Author: John Gold
Date: 2018-01-02 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Fantasy; Science Fiction
Description: To face Death itself, to hide from deadly guards, to conduct dark rituals and to use forbidden death magic? Being sent to Hell is definitely not what 12-year-old Anji would have ever expected from a government orphanage program. Chrysalis — the project of the century. It is a hyper-realistic fantasy RPG game, set in the Middle Ages. Leveling up, distributing attribute points, and choosing your way of life are only a few ways the players play the game. Chrysalis is the perfect virtual space where every orphan under the care of the government is placed in an in-game family to receive all the lov
Publisher: Litworld Ltd.

Project Chrysalis:

#1

Gestation

By John Gold

Translated by Jared Firth

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Gestation:

Chrysalis is the project of the century. It’s a hyper-realistic fantasy RPG set in the Middle Ages. Chrysalis is a perfect virtual reality game where every orphan under governmental care is placed in an in-game family to finally obtain all the love and care from the parents which kids need so desperately.

But for one orphan who took part in this program something went horribly wrong.

Instead of a happy childhood Anji suffers from demonification. Being betrayed for the sake of someone else's master plan he finds himself in the most hopeless place of Chrysalis: Hell which is full of bloodthirsty demons, agony, and despair.

Sagie (Anji’s in-game username), empowered by homesickness and revenge, will go through Hell to face those who’ve taken everything from him. Cruel gods, bloody demons and game officers whose purpose is to keep order and safe balance, who will do their best to stop him on his crusade. The road will be long and gruesome. Blessed are those who struggle.

Gestation

Contents:

Part One

Sword and Shield

Part Two

Prelude to War

From the Author

Book Recommendations

Project Chrysalis 2 Sample

About John Gold

Part One

Sword and Shield

What could a twelve-year-old child understand about life? Family and the colony leadership are there to pick you up when you fall; they give you food when you’re hungry and they offer you an education. What does a twelve-year-old child living in an orphanage understand about life? It’s a struggle. You have to fight for your place in the sun, and you have to take out your enemies, no matter whether you’re a boy or a girl. Nobody will ever help you out of the goodness of their heart. That’s all they know, even if it hasn’t yet formed into a worldview or hashed itself out into a clear set of beliefs.

Eliza Donovan, psychologist at the Psychological Development Center for Children, sat in her office thinking about what to do with the children who found themselves in an orphanage at that age. She was in the middle of an internship focused on her specialty, correcting the behavior of problematic orphans, and was looking at a permanent position with her own project when she finished.

There are ways of guiding and molding the worldview children have, but only if you get to them before they turn twelve. From then on, the only way specialists can help is if the child recognizes their problems and seeks out psychiatric help.

Eliza, as an inveterate optimist, and an open and cheerful kind of person, was very different from her colleagues. Her sunny disposition made her a joy for anyone to talk to, and her youth and beauty only made things easier for her. In the harsh space age, with colonies ploughing the expanses of the universe, men saw in her an angel from the ancient myths.

Weighing on her mind was a group of kids from an orphanage in the sixth circle. Well, not exactly a group. They were loners, children who hadn’t acclimated in other orphanages, and who were constantly in open or secret conflict with their peers. Eliza worried that failing to find their place in the community would turn their need for communication, belonging, and recognition ugly: sociopathy, manic disorders, bad company. On the other hand, guiding them onto the straight and narrow would leave them specialists, scientists, and even the misanthropes of new modernity. They were used to depending on no one but themselves, the rest of the world divided into enemies and irrelevants. “Friend” was a meaningless word replaced in their vocabulary by “partner.” But turning loners into potential specialists was a task for a psychologist who could apply both direct and indirect methods to correct their behavior.

Eliza had an interesting case on her hands. Anji Ganet was a twelve-year-old boy who’d already seen three psychiatrists and two psychopathologists. To a man, they’d pronounced him in good health, knowingly refusing to talk with either peers or doctors. There were no behavioral patterns deviating from the norm, though nobody knew how he spent his free time. He took down everything that could have been used to track him in the free zone.

Over the previous thirty years, the government had employed a drastic and somewhat harsh solution to the orphan problem. Children older than six were all given a full-immersion game capsule that doubled as their bed. Before that age, they used contact lenses or nanobots in their eyeballs. The devices in both cases dropped them into a virtual reality that gradually taught them how to use the infonet. At twelve, with the permission of their caregiver, they were given their own higher-level gaming account. Permission was no longer needed once they turned fourteen, and mature content was unlocked when they turned eighteen. Throughout the spectrum, children selected a race and name, after which they were placed in an in-game family, often with brothers and sisters. Everyone else in their families were NPCs. It was a humane solution—the children needed the love and care of parents, and the government couldn’t give that to them directly, so it offered access to a world that could. Orphanage life meant eight hours asleep, twelve hours free time, and four hours required schooling.

Project Chrysalis, a Lunar government program, was scheduled to start that month. The UN and a committee of independent experts had titled it the project of the century.

Lunar was an independent nation formed sixty years prior on the dark side of the moon. It was unaffiliated with any of the coalitions or alliances; its borders were closed, and it was only sparsely populated.

Back then, sixty years before, Armadillo Industries had declared its independence, taking up just part of the moon’s surface area. Three short wars followed in quick succession, along with seven other attempts to take Lunar by force but nobody could defeat the dwarf nation. Even nuclear and bacterial weapons proved unequal to the task, and not a single person in Lunar died throughout the entire turbulent period. In fact, it was a fully autonomous and robotized defense system that held the enemy ships at bay and repelled their marines as if they were nothing more than a group of naughty children. Lunar was heaven for scientists, and it even began limiting its invitations to the cream of the crop. Technical advancement was the order of the day, with the rest of the nations left in the dust.

The previous year, Lunar announced Project Chrysalis. Six months later, the entire gaming community received free access to the project for one day. It was a culture shock. The game was atraditional—it was a fantasy RPG set in the Middle Ages, but it was the realism that left players stunned. The laws of physics, the sensations, the magic, the skills, the professions, everything made you feel like you’d just found yourself in another world.

Eliza was right to be worried. That day, the final week of beta testing was set to begin, and Anji Ganet, her ward, had received an invitation. He’d turned twelve the day before, which meant that he was entitled by law to a new game capsule. He would be taken to the block that housed his new home. He would meet his family.

***

I am just a normal kid from the orphanage, and just like everyone else, I realized from a young age that you have to fight for your spot in the world. If you want a normal life, you have to stand up for yourself. But soon, I can start playing! It’s an old tradition: to make sure the kids aren’t traumatized, we all get one game and one family. And the invitation I got is a great opportunity—Project Chrysalis is promising, and soon there will be tons of players. Those of us who get started during the beta test will have an advantage over the new players.

The kids in all the games sell information, everybody knows that. They can’t level-up, though they can travel the world. Adult players can’t touch us without some serious penalties, after all. Your age is the same in the virtual world until you turn eighteen out here—then, you can decide how you want to look. Even if you’re a goblin child, your body will still grow slowly to reflect your actual age. You get a baby pacifier icon next to your name, too, to make sure nobody takes you for an adult.

My stretches are done and I’m ready to run if the balance of power in the upcoming battle for my place under the sun turns against me. Always control the situation. That’s my rule. The abuse you get teaches you one simple truth: hit whoever tries to stick you under their foot. Hit them until they leave you alone. Three older kids are on their way to my capsule. The oldest one looks to be about fifteen, a redhead with blue eyes who looks like he’s in charge.

“Hey, look, it’s the new kid.”

“Pissed yourself yet, tiny?”

“He’s mute—why even ask? Let’s just clean his mug and tell him what’s up. If he rocks the boat, we’ll be back. He won’t say anything.”

I despise you for your weakness and stupidity. That’s what I would say, but talking isn’t a good move. Mutes don’t attract attention, they’re harder to use in the kid gangs, and they can make plenty of money.

I put a finger to my ear and then point up at the ceiling, letting them know that the adults are out there ready to turn on the sound system they use to suppress the kind of thing they’re looking to get started.

“Don’t worry about that, tiny. We have our people up there, and they’ll give us three minutes.”

“Listen up, tiny. You owe us ten credits a week, and it’s up to you how you come up with them. Sell your body for all we care—that’s popular down at the lower levels. But if you turn us down, you’ll start feeling the pain, and feeling it all the time.”

He was only too happy to say that last bit. Okay, so that’s who’s most dangerous. There are plenty of kids like him in all the orphanages, and talking with them is pointless. I give him, the one in the center, a kick to the balls. My next kick is aimed at the knee of the one on the right. A quick duck, and I’m off running down the corridor.

“Gek, get him! Kill the bastard! That little… Kicking in the balls isn’t fair! I’m going to beat you to a pulp! You’ll never make it out of the lower levels!”

And three on one is fair?

Two hallways later, I jump into a third and grab a durasteel beam. It’s a light, long-lasting metal that doesn’t do that much damage.

When Gek flashes by, I bring the beam down on his neck before starting to kick away at him. The other kid shows up. Seeing his friend lying on the ground screaming, he steps away down the corridor and calls the third member of their posse over. The situation isn’t great—I’m kicking someone three years older than me, and he’s prostrate on the ground.

Just before the two of them jump me, the siren kicks in. We all fall to the floor, hands over our ears. Damn sound system!

Everything else plays out the way it always does. A chat with Vaalsie, the supervisor, a gray-templed character with an ugly personality. The tall, thin old man knows what’s going on in the orphanage, but he skirts the letter of the law and does nothing. Even if that makes things worse for him. The collectors give him a share of the “harvest,” and he gives them cover when they need it.

After we watch the recording, which shows me attacking the three older kids first, Vaalsie gives me the standard punishment: four extra hours of schooling. The three collectors get two each.

“You’re dead, tiny! We’ll have you pissing blood,” their leader says, covering his crotch reflexively.

A radiant smile is my only answer. A long time ago, I figured out that the unknown is scarier than a durasteel pipe. They’re hard to get into the orphanage, though, of course, I’m always happy to get my hands on a new one if I have to.

***

Schooling is easy, so that was fine. Just like the last time, I could’ve passed the exams ahead of time and forgotten about the lessons, leaving me with extra free time to spend however I want. Those are the rules here in the orphanage. When you don’t have anything to do or anyone to do it with, studying is easy.

I just ate and slept, so I’m not tired. The fight was predictable, but now I have more important things on my plate. I walk over to my locker and take off everything that gives away the fact that I belong to the orphanage, hiding my city clothes on the outside. Then, I take off my virtual reality contact lenses. Nobody can find me now unless I want them to. The emergency tracker only kicks in when there’s a mortal threat or the owner activates it.

A year ago, I found a way into an area the kids aren’t supposed to be in. The space port is a separate sector that not even all adults are permitted to visit. Nobody inside is checked, it’s just really hard to get in. First, I stole some goods and sold them on the lower levels, but when the dock workers caught me, they surprised me by not reporting me to security. Sure, I got why they didn’t, though things took a turn I didn’t like in the least. They asked me to work off the losses I’d caused them.

The first few months were tricky, though by now, I’m glad things turned out the way they did. The dock workers are the family I never got to have—strict, hard-working, fair. I’ve learned everything they’ve been willing to teach me, I’ve done every job they’ve asked me to do. All I wanted to do was pay off my debt, since it was an affront to the people I care about, and I just wanted it gone. When I told the dock workers how I felt, they gave me a word to describe that feeling: shame. Thankfully, that’s all in the past. We’ve been even for three months now. When I paid everything off, the dock workers helped me open an anonymous wallet, and now I get a little something for doing the jobs none of the genies want to do. That’s what the dock workers are called.

“Remember, you always need to have an advantage when you’re fighting a stronger opponent. Always. Always control the situation.”

“What if there are several of them?” Far from a rhetorical question for me.

“Split them up, pit them against each other, make sure they can’t come after you at the same time. Create an advantage for yourself.”

“But how?”

“That’s your problem. If you really want to, you’ll find a solution. Remember, it’s always there, and there’s always more than one, no matter how cornered you feel.”

Galboa’s an electric engineer for small space ships, and his advice is always top of the line. I have no intention of ever telling him that I consider him a kind of surrogate father. At least, he’s what the father of my dreams would look like. I don’t have a mother, but I do have a family, and my future is here. The dock hands are who I’ve always looked for.

“...”

“Never give up. There’s always a way.”

We’re talking the way we always do at work. Galboa is a communication electronics specialist, and he was the one who insisted that I pay them back for what I stole. His build is average, he’s swarthy, and he always has that damn prickly, black beard. With his work outfit and bunch of tools, he even looks like a terrorist from one of the old movies. He was from the orphanage, too, and he’s made it all the way to the third citizenship level. Three levels above mine!

Sometimes, the older kids try to follow me, but I always know how to shake them. Nobody is ever going to find the way here, my way home.

Galboa’s son Finx sometimes drops by to see how his dad’s doing, and we quickly became friends. He’s three years older than me. Fifteen! I’ve only ever felt like a kid around him, and he’s the only one I’ve ever played with. He knows how to fight without weapons, so that’s what we spend our time doing. He teaches me new strikes. I memorize them. We spar at half-strength. Finx instilled in me the habit of always doing my exercises every day, slowly building the intensity. For us, it’s fun; for Galboa, it’s a joy for the eyes. I’m not very emotional, but I’m great at sensing what other people are feeling. And Galboa is always happy when we’re playing down at the docks. Finx told me that I’m a good student, that I’m almost perfect. He has no idea, though.

He fights to have fun; for me, it’s survival. Galboa probably gets it, though he’s never said anything. I have to fight back at the orphanage all the time. Whatever Finx teaches me, I’m always working on it. I’m not very talented, and I don’t have access to the infonet, but my memory is excellent.

The day’s work began like it always does except, the somber brigadier came looking for me as soon as I got to the docks. I’ve never liked how serious he is. And as soon as I showed up, the workers all turned sour and fell silent.

“Hi, Anji. Listen up.” His eyes fall. “Galboa was hit by a flame from the nozzle—the whole right side of his body is scorched, and they had to amputate his arm. He won’t be working here anymore. Now, there’s an inspection, so they’re examining everything and looking for something. You should make yourself scarce around here for a while.”

My world collapses.

How could god allow something so unfair to happen? Everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d ever had, everything I’d achieved, all of it was gone. Without bothering to listen to the rest of his speech, I change and head back through the ventilation tunnel. Strangely enough, I’m not crying. When I crawl out in our sector, local security grabs me immediately—they pulled all the tapes from the dock cameras. They haven’t found anything about me working with the dock hands, and I’m not about to say anything, but just the fact that I broke into a closed sector is already a crime. When the inspector stops spitting and trying to scare me, I look him evenly in the eye and say nothing. What do his threats mean to me?

Vaalsie shows up. After a quick conversation with the inspector, he turns to me.

“Half a year with no trips to the city. You’ll stay right here in the orphanage, and any attempt to leave will land you without access to the network until your time’s up.” The supervisor is dry, paying no attention to my indifference.

“...”

“Are you satisfied with the punishment?” Vaalsie asks the inspector.

“Completely. It’ll be a lesson to him.”

“Head into the orphanage,” the supervisor says, turning back to me.

Back in the building, I lie down in my capsule and fall asleep. Sleep is the best medicine.

***

Eliza was reading Anji’s dossier. It turned out that the boy had been fighting off attacks from his peers on a continual basis. He never played, and he ignored the interest other children took in their games. Judging by the recordings, there were points when Anji talked superbly, more on the level of a sixteen- to eighteen-year-old than a twelve-year-old. The other kids were drawn to him. He didn’t push for leadership, but everybody else was only too ready to listen. Complex topics were broken down in a way the other kids could explain, he often used examples, and, in a word, he didn’t behave very childlike. For some reason, after switching groups, he stopped talking. That day, Eliza found out that he’d been heading over to the space port sector for a while. He hadn’t said anything, sticking to habit, and the supervisor didn’t ask him any questions. Eliza figured she needed to dig deeper into the material she’d collected before she could understand the taciturn child. That was the only way she could put together a plan for his social adaptation, and she ignored her cup of coffee as she read.

***

The morning started with a quick fight. Just as I climbed out of my cocoon, the trio from yesterday dashed over and laid into me until the siren went off. Then, it was another conversation with the supervisor. I have another two hours of studies, they have four each. How’s that fair, old man?

As everyone was leaving, I heard yet another round of threats and flashed yet another smile. My whole body hurt, but it was the pain of losing that cut deepest.

The situation demanded a response. After finding the inseparable trio, I spent the next hour following them around and watching them as they demanded payment. On the way, I picked up a polymer rock in the corridor where some work was going on. I wait now for one of the tax collectors to walk out of the bathroom before stepping in behind him.

“Pain for pain.”

I hit him in the back of the head. Then, I kick away at him methodically and deliberately until the siren sounds. That’s a good month of hurt right there.

The supervisor’s in fine form today—you don’t hear that much cursing down at the docks. Still, I’m feeling much better after getting even.

“Why did you hit him in the head? He showed up in the infirmary covered in blood, and he’s going to spend the next month limping. We don’t have full-body regeneration equipment here.”

I say nothing, figuring I’m better off not telling him that was what I was going for.

“Another four hours of studies a day. All next month. Okay, get out of here.”

It’s been a hundred years since there was really such a thing as studies. Now, they just give us access to educational materials and tell us when the exam will be. The better your performance, the more privileges they give you at the orphanage—excursions, sweets, social events, permission to play certain games, and materials with limited access. It all depends on how many points you can score with your studies. The whole thing is set up for a calendar year, and Galboa always says that you have to find the upside and leverage it to get the most you can. That’s what I do.

There’s a whole month of fourteen-hour study days ahead of me. You get tired when there’s that much on your plate, though the constant fighting and additional study time made reading while I have time off a habit. Really, it was Galboa who turned me on to reading. Books don’t teach me; they help me sort through what I already know. On the other hand, if you meet the requirements right away, you’re free—that’s the rule. All Vaalsie can do is give me some game limitations using the external supervisor interface for my cocoon.

I crawl into the capsule and activate the Project Chrysalis invitation. A timer starts ticking away two hours.

Welcome to Project Chrysalis.

New user registration

Select a race

I’m not sure—your choice of race determines what kind of parents you’ll have. Orcs are strong, dwarves already have a beard at twelve, elves look like girls, trolls are ugly, humans don’t have any talents.

“Just like me. Okay, let’s go with human. Oh…that’s the only available option.”

Enter a username

I don’t have any nicknames, just what they call me down at the docks—small fry. They say you have to earn your name.

It feels good to think back to my time there, though it hurts to think about Galboa.

Sagie. That’s the youngest genie. The dockers are called genies sometimes because they pop out and fulfill the wishes of their clients.

Next, there’s a page detailing natural predispositions to weapons or magic that give you additional damage bonuses. The bonus, as well as your chances of getting it, are displayed in percentages. You can even pay to boost your chances of getting the character you want.

A whole page of paid services—getting born into a family of mages or becoming the heir to a long line of swordsmen; inheritable skills, mutations, family artifacts… The only problem is that the lowest prices start at thousands of credits.

It’s incredible! Adult players would shell out that much cash for their family? I don’t have the money, but I wouldn’t spend it even if I did.

***

It’s a clear day outside, and the air inside smells like smoke and food. A village hut made of clay and twigs. In the sunlight, the walls appear a dark red, and the sounds and aromas of village life pull me back into the old books. A wooden bed with a straw mattress.

“Sa-a-agie, time to get up. Get something to eat and go help your father,” calls a pleasant feminine voice from behind a curtain, pulling me away from my inspection of the room.

My heart stops. Suddenly, I want to just go do exactly what she’s asking me.

In the next room, there’s a kitchen, with a bowl of porridge on the table. My stomach gurgles but that’s not important.

Mama, Camelia, Level 130

“Mama?!” I look at her in disbelief.

She turns to me, sticks her fists in her sides, and smiles. “Yes, for the last twelve years. Go ahead and eat. Your father’s been up for a while, and he has the tackle waiting for you.”

New quest: Help Father

Description: Find father on the pier and help him catch some fish.

Reward: Mom’s fish pie and/or a walk with father.

Refusal: A beating.

“...”

“Eat!” Mom shakes out her towel, turns away, and goes back to washing the dishes.

Just seeing her makes me happy. Tears well up in my eyes, but I don’t whimper. Instead, I sit down quietly and start eating, my eyes never leaving her. She’s there. Mama! She looks about thirty, she’s slender, and she’s wearing around-the-house clothes. Her hair is long and pulled back in a ponytail that reaches her shoulder blades. Long done eating, I just sit there gazing at her.

“Get out of here before you bore a hole in me with your eyes. Go help your father.”

I get up and am about ready to leave when I hear her call after me.

“Who do you think is going to clear your plate away?”

I go back and hand her the empty dish.

Running out of the house, I sit down on the doorstep and wipe away tears. Then, I pull up the interface and turn on the mini map. I find the attribute panel.

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 1

Agility: 1

Stamina: 1

Intellect: 1

Wisdom: 1

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 1

Athleticism: 1

Morale: 1

Survivability: 1

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 1 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 2.5 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 10 (wisdom*10)

Health: 10 (stamina*10)

Strength: 10 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 10/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 10/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 10/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 4 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance: 0

Skills

-

Professions

-

Father… What a word. How I’ve thought about him over and over. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have a father—I’ll help you, learn from you, be happy. Galboa…

I live in a small village called Orany, which is next to Imir, the big city.

Dad’s sitting on the pier going through his fishing tackle.

Father, Arman, Level 154

“Oh, Sagie, you’re finally awake. Did you wake up by yourself? Or did mom have to douse you with water from the pitcher?”

“Yeah, right! I’m grown up, and I can wake up when I need to by myself.”

I’m floating, soaring. That man is my father! He’s wearing a fisherman’s coat and old, dirty pants with holes in them, and there’s a broad smile on his face.

A light breeze plays with the waves and wafts in off the morning lake with a pleasant aroma. I squint as I look out at the glistening water. This moment, this is something I’ll never forget.

Father dumps the tackle in the boat, climbs in after it, and helps me clamber aboard. Taking the oars, he starts rowing toward the middle of the lake. This feeling, I think it’s happiness.

When we are maybe three hundred meters away from the bank, father drops the anchor and starts working on the fishing rods.

“I’ve heard the mages from the city come fishing sometimes, only, they cast lightning into the water, and the fish swim to the top by themselves,” he says with a faint smile as he casts the first line. “Here, take this. I’ll get the next one ready for me.”

“Why don’t we fish like that?”

“Which one of us knows magic? All I know is how to start a fire and stun someone—no money to learn anything else. And what does a simple fisherman need with magic, anyway?”

“Could I learn?”

Father looks at me sadly.

“You can become anyone you want, but we have barely anything to pay with. Everything else, you’re going to have to get yourself, son. You’re young, so pick up skills, learn professions, and boost your attributes. When the time comes, you’ll pick the way you want to live your life. Maybe, you’ll be a mage. Maybe, you’ll be a warrior. Maybe, you’ll decide to be a trader or a blacksmith. Hey, you could even be a fisherman like me.”

“But how am I supposed to decide who I’m going to be?”

“Sagie, you’re just a kid. You have time to try things out and see what you like. Learn, experiment, play, enjoy life. This is your life. Do whatever you want to do. You get to decide who you’re going to be. Just don’t forget to help your parents out.” Father smiles again as he casts his line.

He sits there looking out at the bobber riding the waves, and I just enjoy the moment of which I’ve always dreamed. Papa doesn’t move until he looks at me slyly and asks a question.

“Want me to teach you how to fish?”

You have a new profession offer: Fisherman

“…yes, of course.”

You learned a profession: Fisherman

Fisherman +1

“Ah-ha, now I have a helper!” Dad looks happy. “Mom never let me take you out before. She was afraid you’d drown. It’s deep here, and there are all kinds of different fish.”

We spend the whole morning, all the way to lunch, sitting in the boat. There’s almost no talking, just fishing. Father praises me, tells me I’m a real fisherman’s kid, that I picked it up right away. We enjoy the silence and have fun catching fish. Maybe, I just enjoy not being alone. There’s a new, unbelievably dear person sitting next to me and smiling.

“This is a good catch—we can head back home. Camelia promised a fish pie, but first I need to teach you how to swim!”

Before I have time to blink, he tosses me overboard. How could a kid who’s never seen water deeper than the tubs in the personal compartments on the ships being repaired know how to swim? Swimming? More like floundering.

“Use your legs and arms. Push through the water.” Dad just keeps smiling.

I start getting the hang of it once I’ve swallowed a stomachful of water.

Ability learned: Swimming

Swimming +1

“There you go… Now, swim to the shore.”

“It’s so far!” I call back, sinking and gulping down another mouthful of water.

“Swim, swim. Your eyes are afraid, but your arms know what to do.”

Once I pull myself up onto the shore, I vomit up all the water. Father just laughs. My strength is down to nothing, my health is halfway gone.

Strength +1

Stamina +1

“We’ll go for a walk tomorrow in the forest. That’ll be a nice reward for being so brave.”

“What do you mean, brave? I would’ve drowned if I’d stopped.”

“You could’ve climbed back into the boat.”

Father practically glows with innocence.

“Yeah, right! You would’ve just pushed me back in.” That’s easy enough to predict. “You just want me to get stronger?”

I laugh nervously. Father straightens up instantly, his reply serious.

“Exactly! Train, and even a child can do so much. You can get new skills, professions, protection…you can boost your attributes and improve your reputation. Play with other kids and do what people ask you to do. Childhood is the school of life. People will forgive your mistakes, they’ll be more open, and you don’t have to worry about keeping a roof over your head.”

My father turns out to be strong and wise. I know what he was saying, but I just haven’t been able to phrase it in my head.

“We’re going to fish every morning. The rest of the time, you can walk or help your mother,” father says softly, though still with the same gravity in his voice.

I check the time—there are only ten minutes left. That little? Switching the capsule over to sleep mode, I decide to catch up on sleep during studies. For now, I’m going to play. The game doesn’t completely replace sleep, but you don’t need as much of it to catch up later.

The whole next week is heaven. There are friends for me, with 15-year-old Rachel on the next street over and Grunt and Ownie there, too. I haven’t seen their families yet, though. Rachel is the daughter of a blacksmith, also an orphan in real life. Grunt and Ownie are from the same orphanage. Lucky. Playing is much easier that way.

Father is a great hunter. He has taught me how to shoot a bow, how to hide, how to set and disarm traps, even taught me the herbalist profession. In the morning, we set traps; in the evening, we picked them up and collected our trophies. And the whole week led up to Sunday, market day.

Rachel and I beat a quest and learned stealth. Then, when we were swimming in the lake, we picked up the ability to hold our breath. She may not be the most beautiful girl, she talks endlessly, and she teases me sometimes, but she’s my best and only friend. Sometimes, she says something, and then she pauses and looks at me sadly, almost as though she pities me. Why? She makes a lot of mistakes. She talks about her parents like they’re alive, too. It sounds like they just recently died, and she hasn’t got used to it, yet. She didn’t like her dad, though—she always frowns when she mentions him. The dad in her Project Chrysalis family isn’t her cup of tea.

One evening, I had dinner at Rachel’s house. Her dad taught me the blacksmith profession after he gave me a quest for hauling wood and coal. Rachel’s father is a stocky dwarf. He’s always covered in soot, his beard is all the way down to his chest, and he almost never takes off his blacksmith’s apron. After four hours of hard work, I picked up +2 to my strength and +3 to my stamina. Then, he found out that I was Arman’s son and offered to teach me carpentry. How do you turn that down? But he was a clever guy. He told me he’d do it if I brought him three walk-tree branches to make into bows.

When I got home, my mom was really worried. I’d forgotten that it was late. My father glowered when he found out that I had the chance to learn carpentry in exchange for the three branches, too. The next morning, he handed them to me, and I took them over to the blacksmith. Rachel’s dad just grunted triumphantly and taught me carpentry, even throwing in the ability to make a simple bow, before showing me the door. When I got home, father wanted to have a word with me. “Walk-tree is a local Level 75 boss that does what the forest keeper tells him to do. You wouldn’t have been able to get his branches, though you could very easily have died trying. The blacksmith knew that, just like he knew that you wouldn’t be able to get them yourself. I’ve had them for years. This is the last one—take it. Hopefully, I’ll see the bow you made from it one day.”

Then, father relaxed, smelling of tobacco. I’d already noticed that he grabs his pipe and heads out back when he’s nervous.

Suddenly, I realized what had been bothering me. It was a rare material. That blacksmith was a cunning bastard, too. I’m never talking to him again. I’m better off walking to the city and learning what I need to know there.

Mama taught me how to sew and cook. Her culinary skill was well above Level 100, and even the simple porridge she makes gives you stamina and strength bonuses. Father knows and can do far more than he lets on, too, and I’ve been starting to realize that things aren’t as simple with him as they seem. How could a simple fisherman reach Level 154? A sewing housewife is equally as unlikely to get to Level 130. I’ve been afraid to ask questions, and neither of them have said anything.

But finally, it’s Sunday. We set off for the city—the city walls, at least. That’s where the market is. Father grabbed a tray, and mama packed it full of everything we collected this week in the forest.

“Go have fun with the kids. That’s Rachel’s father’s stand over there. We’ll be here selling in the meantime.”

The blacksmith’s stand is three down from ours on the other side of the road. He’s laying out goods, and Rachel is arguing about something with Ownie and Grunt. Father misunderstands my silence, but I’m certainly happy with the result.

“Oh, you want money for some candy?”

“Yup.”

What a great turn of events. The sweets they have in the orphanage aren’t anything like what they have here in Project Chrysalis.

“Here you go.”

Arman gave you: 10 silver coins

“Thanks.”

It’s a lot more money than I was expecting. There will even be some left over after I share with Rachel and treat the guys to something.

“Two conditions. First, you have to haggle for everything you buy and cut the price down by at least half. Second, you have to spend at least half the money on your education. There are a lot of teachers and masters here, so decide what you want to learn.”

“Thanks.”

Father spent the whole week making me swim, run, jump, and do push-ups. The pain I was in when I dropped below ten percent felt very real. Even my muscles were sore. Once, I even caught my hand in a trap. Father quickly depressed the spring, of course, but the sensation was enough to make me squeal. I could hear the dull crunch of a bone breaking, and I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. The wounds healed, but I still have debuffs that keep me from full recovery. Every time I log out of the game, I sleep for two or three hours before heading to my studies.

My strength, agility, and stamina are all up to 20. My speed is 6, my athleticism is 3. I’m even looking different, not the same kid who couldn’t swim fifty meters. My neck is thicker, my entire body visibly stronger and more muscular. I even have a six-pack! Rachel always laughs when I flex and show them off.

Father told me that you can tell what someone’s developing just by looking at them. Intellect effects your facial features, wisdom turns your hair gray, agility makes you look wirier, stamina shows through in how balanced your muscles are in general. You can tell someone’s approximate level by the way they look, too. Just hearing everything father knows is painting a very strange picture of his past.

My intellect and wisdom haven’t grown at all. I don’t know how to make that happen. For the same reason, my morale has stayed the same, too. When father explained how you boost your survivability, I declined. Watching blood drip from a huge cut on your arm without a single healer nearby? No, thank you. The farther you go, the more wounds you have to get for your resilience to grow. Once you’re at 15, you have to stab yourself with a knife. Unbelievable…

Now, I’m proud I made it through all that.

Name: Sage

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 20

Agility: 20

Stamina: 20

Intellect: 1

Wisdom: 1

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 6

Athleticism: 3

Morale: 1

Survivability: 1

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 10 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 50 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 10 (wisdom*10)

Health: 200 (stamina*10)

Strength: 20 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 200/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 10/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 30/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 6 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance: 0

Skills

Cooking: 3

Trap setting and disarming: 8

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-holding 5

Stealth: 3

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 2

Blacksmith: 1

Carpenter: 1

I stop and sit down on a bench. There’s no point running, since even the kids could rob me. First, I need to figure out why father gave me almost all of what he expects to earn. He taught me the skills I didn’t need a class for. But there are more I can get before I pick my class, and I have at least a couple more years to play with my kid account. I can’t ride horses, though the ability to tame animals might come in handy. I could pick up some recipes for the professions I know or learn new ones. Alternatively, I could buy some clothes that would boost my main attributes. That’s the only way to get past the 20-point limit you get for natural development. Father’s smart—he said I need to invest at least half the money in new skills. That means I could invest it all! Okay, the treats can wait. I’ll find money for them later, when it’s less important to make father proud. He’s a clever guy! That was a hint he gave me for a big trick I can pull. He’s a fisherman, but he knows a little magic, so that means I can learn some spells without being a mage.

The next two hours are spent looking for the local mage stand. As it turns out, there’s no such thing—they’re prohibited by the city council. You have to go to a special school if you want to learn magic, since that’s where the masters are. A trader with enchanted goods sang like a nightingale in praise of his goods, and I was able to pick up a lot from him without him even knowing.

“The mages all live in the city, in the local branch of the Academy of Magic. That’s where my supplies are all enchanted. I saw this one venerable mage today. He scornfully declined to buy anything I have! Can you believe what a fool he was?”

That was more than enough. There was a tiny chance I could pick up some spells, but how do you find a mage in a crowd of craftsmen? It’s simple. He was wearing a blue coat marked on the back with the glistening sun, and he was standing by an empty enclosure. There was no staff in his hand, though his gray hair and intelligent face told me that I was looking at a mage. Before I had the chance to get close to him, I realized that he was already staring at me.

“Hello there! I’m sorry to bother you, but it looks like you’re a mage. I’d like to learn some spells, and I’m prepared to pay.”

The mage doesn’t laugh; he snorts like a horse. Soon, nobody’s left around us. They’re afraid to even look in our direction.

“What an uppity little kid! You’re just going to traipse over and bother me while I’m busy? How did you even know that I’m a mage? And why aren’t you scared?” He’s standing just a meter and a half away from me.

“What’s there to be afraid of? You aren’t being aggressive, and the guards are right over there. I recognized your gray hair and the way your face looks.”

The mage is perking up. “Hm, you had a good teacher. Or are you from a family of assassins?”

“Neither. My father is a fisherman, and everything else comes with experience.”

“You don’t speak like a child.”

Suddenly, some hidden aggression does appear in the mage’s voice.

“You aren’t a normal mage.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You talk and react differently.”

“Again, very adult-like of you.” The mage takes a step back and holds his hands at his belt, almost as though there are two pistols there that he’s ready to draw. He’s on his guard.

“My age is just a number. Consciousness develops in step with life experience and your body only has a little to do with it.”

“Are you an illusion? Are you using longspeech, maybe?”

“If I kick you, will you believe that I’m a normal kid?” I flash an easy, child-like smile, and the mage relaxes.

“I believe you, no need for that. What do you want?”

“I want to learn magic. I mean, spells.”

“You’re no mage. They’ll only let you be one in…” He takes a closer look at me. “It’ll be at least a couple of years. If you were from a family of mages, they’d have taught you from when you were little. You really must be the son of a fisherman if you don’t know that—everybody knows that.”

I’m embarrassed by my stupidity and by the way he’s treating me like dirt.

“You’re right, I’m from a village, but that doesn’t change the fact that I can learn spells now. My father is a fisherman, and he knows two!”

“Your father is an exception. A ve-e-ery rare exception—mages don’t teach spells to other classes. I’d imagine your old man helped somebody high up out and asked for them as a reward. He didn’t become a mage, and they couldn’t have taught him much without a class and skills anyway. Maybe arrow of fire, air fist, or something like that. Something easy. And that’s it.”

“I want to learn them. Could you help me? I can pay!”

“You little snot!” Suddenly, he looks threatening, his fingers covered in sparks. The air grows thick, and a wave of fear rushes through me. “Do you know how much it costs to teach a non-mage spells? You don’t see magic; you don’t know anything about it. At your level, they’re just teaching you how to use the power you have. You non-mages can’t even pour your mana into the spark to boost your damage. Take your ordinary wizard—they have no idea what they’re working with. And you don’t even know what spells look like! You want me to teach you?!” The mage’s eyes narrow, he peers at me. “Although, there is one way, and I’m prepared to use it, but I don’t care about your money.”

The mage looks over at the enclosure, where warriors are gathering.

“My name’s Bernard.”

The same appears above his head. Cool! Level 500.

“I came here to bet on the battle. It’s a folk fair, so they’re only allowed to use their fists. When you’ve lived as many centuries as I have, you start looking around for new ways to amuse yourself. Here are my conditions: for every battle you win, I’ll teach you a spell. If I have a good time watching, I’ll even tell you a few things about the life of a mage. You won’t get anything that complex, just easy things.”

“Agreed.”

Bernard sure can inspire terror. When you feel power so far beyond your own, fear courses through you and paralyseis your reason. I’ve only felt this once before, back when I came across a bloody man in the lower levels wielding a plasma knife. Bernard is a lot like that guy.

I don’t even remember how I got back to the orphanage. It was only a month later that I could overcome my fear and go back down there. “Warriors up to Level 20 participate in the tournament. There’s one Level 16 friar, too, a wanderer like you.” The mage notices my wide eyes. “Oh, I know about your kind. There have been a lot of you this week, though that’s nothing new.”

“Are there a lot like me in the tournament?”

You need to know who your enemy is.

“There are three of you. One is a fifteen-year-old kid, the second is a friar, and you’re the third. There’s a total of sixty-four warriors,” he continues with a sly glance. “Why? Scared?”

“Nope.”

Okay, so I’m not going to get a second chance. I don’t know how father learned his spells, but I need them, too.

“I have a small request for you.”

“What? Scrolls, maybe, or mithril boots?”

Bernard’s joking, but his voice is still serious.

“Bet my ten silver coins on me.” I hand him the money. “Before every battle, I’ll tell you if you should bet on me or my opponent. I know my skills better than you do.”

“Okay. Go ahead, get over there and let them know you want to join.”

I sign up for the tournament and head over to my first battle, where my opponent turns out to be Grunt. Even though he’s taller, I’m stronger. Father’s been pushing me hard. I’ve been in a lot more fights back at the orphanage, too. It isn’t worth showing my whole hand, however, so I just shove him back onto the ground and beat away with my fists. Grunt breaks into tears and leaves the tournament.

The second battle goes much the same way as the first. My opponent is an eighteen-year-old at Level 15, and he tries to kick at me. All I have to do is pull out a trick—kicks to the knee hurt like hell. In his case, my strike turns out to be critical. The game is realistic, and he’s too badly hurt to walk away. I watch the healer patch him up as the argument turns in my favor. I didn’t break the rules.

Bernard bet on me both times, though my next opponent is a tough one: the very same Level 16 friar. There’s the height difference, not to mention his class skills and equipment. If you add up my attributes, I’m about Level 12, meaning that he has more stamina and strength, too.

“Only bet my money on me.”

Bernard is an inveterate gambler. He puts his money on me, too. Really, it’s the intrigue that gets him going more than the winnings.

“What are you going to use on him?”

“Some things only adult wanderers know.”

There’s no point telling him ahead of time.

Galboa told me that I always need to have an advantage. And if I don’t have one, I need to create one. The guy uses all his class skills, unleashing a barrage of blows in my direction. But what he forgot is that his class skills burn strength, and that I can dodge or parry them. Only a psychopath would try to block his blows. Finx showed me how to do that, though I haven’t been able to practice what he taught me on my own, just with him down at the docks. It’s tough to use things like that in a fight.

Settling into a defensive stance, I start ducking away from everything he throws at me. It’s a good thing he doesn’t use his legs—I wouldn’t be able to dodge them. In the end, he expends all his stamina, giving me an opening to rush in and start laying into his head.

The difference in levels comes into play, though. Even in his condition, he’s strong enough to get my health into the red sector. This time, the judges check to see if I have any buffs. I don’t, of course—I don’t even know how to get them. The friar, on the other hand, is compromised: he used a potion and the blessing of a goddess, so his reputation drops precipitously, and the guards lead him away.

“Sagie, you surprise me! What else don’t I know about you?”

Bernard is practically dancing for joy.

“Quite a bit, but why spoil the prize?”

“Because your opponent took second place last year. I remember him. He’s fast and strong. The last champion isn’t here today since he’s fighting in the next tournament, the one for Levels 20 to 40.”

Bernard suddenly calms back down, a turn of events that unnerves me. Either he’s good at controlling his emotions or he’s a sociopath.

“Got it. Bet my money on me.”

“Once again, strange behavior for a kid.”

“Just imagine what I’d be like if I grew up in a family of bandits. A family where everyone wants to kill you…just because. Would I have grown up to be a normal kid? Nope.”

There’s no point waiting for an answer. The battle is already beginning. My opponent is definitely a robber or an assassin. It’s the way he fights: he wants to finish this with just a few quick strikes, so he’s going to unleash and back off. I know what to do with that. When your opponent has longer arms, you use that against him. Finx was all about that, using your opponent’s strengths against him. And that’s what I’m going to do right now.

I turn slightly, my left arm for defense and my right arm poised to attack. My legs are a bit apart to make sure I can hurl my center of gravity forward when needed. And that’s how it happens: my opponent quickly closes the distance. I cock my right arm as he moves, the fact that I’m left-handed turning out to be one more advantage for me. I dodge his swing, move forward, and level a jab at his chin, putting everything I have into it. My opponent is stunned, leaving him open for a quick succession of blows aimed at the same spot. His health hovers right at 1.

Then, other battles begin. Bernard walks over to me.

“You aren’t from a bandit family; your father really is a fisherman.”

As soon as I turn to him, he continues.

“He’s standing over there with your mother. It looks like they’re very worried.”

It’s true. Father is holding mama close, and she’s crying. I wasn’t trying to upset her! Without listening to anything else Bernard says, I run over. Father frowns.

“Why’s mama crying?” They can see my childlike look and sincere wish to share her pain.

“What do you think? How did you think she was going to feel when she saw her son getting beaten up by some people trying to kill him?”

Mama sobs even harder. Tears well up in my eyes, too.

“Sagie, when you’re done, you’re getting a whipping and another punishment. Don’t say another word. I imagine, you blew all your money on treats, and now you’re trying to win it back in the tournament?”

“What money?”

“Yup… We’ll be waiting for you at the stand—your mother shouldn’t have to see this. I’m going to double the whipping, and you’re going to get thrashed every day this week.”

It doesn’t look like the surprise on my face means anything to him. He takes my crying mother by the shoulders and walks away.

When I get back, Bernard gives me such a cuff that I see stars. My health drops into the red zone.

“Pull yourself together—you have a battle coming up. The odds are twenty to one against you.”

I go over to the healer, Bernard calling after me.

“Nobody’s been able to touch your opponent yet. They’re already calling him the champion.”

“I’m betting on myself.”

The battle is just as serious as the previous two. All anyone’s been able to see is the height difference, which is why they’ve tried to kick me or finish me off with a quick attack. The only problem is that this last opponent really is strong. He’s a friar, too, with the benefit of experience, but he also knows how to counter what I have. I end up having to use everything I know: I parry his blows, aim for his vulnerabilities, stay aware of my surroundings, use his strength against him. For a friar, he has as much health as a tank, and his defense is so good that my hits barely do anything. After the battle, I realize that that was the best experience I could have had. Where did he pick up his skills? I certainly wouldn’t mind having his health. We bow to each other, signaling our mutual respect, and a wave of applause breaks over us.

***

Rachel watched Ownie trying to calm Grunt down, the latter still having a hard time getting over his loss to a younger kid. Just then, applause broke out. Everything was going according to plan. Some people were out looking for information about the ritual; others were collecting money. Her father wasn’t about to give them a second chance. The clan didn’t forgive mistakes! She needed to get everything else ready, though her helper’s whining was starting to really get to her. What did they know about being weak?

“Stop your sniffling already! He just beat a Level 20 friar who was leveled-up like a tank. Do you hear the crowd?”

“Screw you. You’re a girl, you’re used to being weak, but I’m the strongest in my group! The strongest at the academy, and some shrimp just took me out.”

“Shut up.”

Rachel could have said a lot more, but nothing that came to mind sufficed for what she was thinking. How do you explain something a person can’t understand because they don’t have the experience yet? How do you read a word without knowing the letters? Grunt was nothing, used to his soft, cushy life.

In a month, Rachel would be turning eighteen, and she’d be able to do whatever she wanted. First, however, she had to take care of the deal with her father.

***

Just like he promised, father thrashed me thoroughly. His punishment was for me to learn how to stay hidden in an urban environment and get my stealth up to 25. For every day I wasn’t able to do that, he said I’d be getting another round.

Survivability +2

My butt stings so bad! I even got a debuff: I haven’t been able to sit down for twelve hours. Whenever I try, I get this unbearable pain. Father is smart though. Even his punishments are designed to make me stronger. I’m not going to be able to do what he asked me to do today. First, I need to head into the city to meet with Bernard.

After the tournament, the mage told me to stop by the city library the next day.

Murokami, Level 292, is the librarian. He’s enormous for a human, looks more like a bookshelf. His light, radiant clothing isn’t enough to hide the knotted muscles covering his arms. One eye is missing, and there’s an ugly scar meandering across his face in place of it. The contrast just makes the remaining eye seem that much more alive as he scans the lines of the book he’s reading. It’s an odd scene that doesn’t really fit. He’s the kind of librarian you don’t need a guard for. The worst part is that he isn’t letting me in without an adult. I could, apparently, ruin or steal the books. I’m forced to use my stealth, though Murokami may have just let me in unofficially.

Bernard turned out to be right where he promised he’d be: on the second floor in the northern wing’s farthest reading room. Sunlight flooded the space.

“Oh, finally, there you are.”

Bernard is dressed in a mage’s mantle this time, though it has the same picture of the sun. Rather than sitting with a book, he’s polishing his staff with a cloth.

“So you didn’t pay the librarian to let me in?”

“Of course, I did. That’s your second lesson. The first is to never do anything without getting the quest and checking all the terms and conditions.”

Suddenly, it hit me.

“Ah, so you’re thinking back to our conversation and remembering that I didn’t give you a quest,” the mage says with a loud, obnoxious laugh. “How does it feel to be powerless? I even took your winnings.”

“I thought you could trust mages to keep their word.”

You can’t let your opponents push their advantage.

“No, today I’m kind, so I’ll go through with my part of the deal. You won eight battles and showed me a fantastic time. I made two bets: one on you winning and the other on the outcome of each battle, where I bet on you at the last moment every time. Everything I won, I dumped back into the next bet, so I won a fortune in local terms.”

“Nice!”

“Absolutely. Now listen up. There are officially nine magical primary elements, or nine paths of magic. There are the elementals—Earth, Water, Fire, and Air. Life is generally used by healers and elves, though the latter is a separate conversation. Mind is mental magic, which impacts the way people think. Space is both the simplest and the most complex primary element. The final two are Light and Dark. Magic can also take a variety of forms: Light, Fire, Water, Earth Shield, and emanations of Death.”

“What about magic schools? Or specialties?”

“At Level 50. You pick a specialty and start developing in that direction. For that, you have to have the magic skill boosted to 50. There are Fire, Earth, and Life mages, as well as mentalists, wizards, artifactors…the list is endless. Then, there are hidden battle specialties that mix the paths of the sword and magic, or secret killers, astral attacks, magic sieges. That list is long, too. But those specialties are generally offered to the best students or to those whose achievements have earned them that right. Some specialties aren’t taught by any of the mages in the academy—blood magic, ritual magic, demonology, chimerology, malefism, necromancy, and all of those, everything having to do with black or dark magic. There’s just a general course at the academy that teaches students how to fight back against them.”

Some are born with a predisposition to one of the elements as a bonus to the damage they do. There’s also a family bonus for kids from mage families, not to mention hereditary mutations, family skills, and heirlooms. Your specialty is the choice you make for how you want to develop your magic. It boosts your magic in that area by 50%.

“Can you find a teacher or learn by yourself?”

He just waves me off like a pesky fly.

“So, what do you choose?”

Once again, Bernard’s mood changes.

“The dark side is intriguing, though I’m not a mage, and that would be worthless for me. On the other hand, as a way of going forward, I really like it. All I can do for now is learn simple spells.”

Bernard doesn’t even nod. He just stares at me like I mean nothing, his eyes practically shouting, non-mage.

“Okay, then it’ll be Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Space, Light, Mind, Life, and Dark. That’s all I can do…or is it? Could I get one more little spell?”

“A hundred gold, and you’ll have your little spell. Your winnings are enough to cover that.”

“Deal.”

I don’t know how father got what he knows, but I doubt I’ll have another chance. There’s a difference between money now and money later.

Bernard gestures me to sit across from him. Placing his hand on my head, he looks me in the eye. Suddenly, there’s a sharp pain, and I black out.

Spell learned: Weaker Healing

Description: Heals the wounds of whoever it’s directed toward. The effectiveness depends on your intellect.

Effect: Restores 100 health

Mana: 10

Life Magic: +1

Life spell effectiveness: +1%

Survivability +2

There’s the first bit of good news. I’m lying on the table in a pool of blood, an unpleasant fog just about all I can see. Bernard sits there happily, even singing.

“Use the spell, and we’ll continue. We have eight more to go,” he says, his malicious laugh echoing around the room. “Get rid of the blood, otherwise someone might find it and try to use it as part of some dark deed.”

The next few hours were hell—pain broken up by lost consciousness. Just by learning magic, I picked up another 12 survivability points. And then there was my shirt, which was sopping wet with my blood after using it to mop up the table so many times. Father’s going to beat me until sunrise. But that’s okay, I can heal myself now. I’m probably looking something like that guy with the plasma knife on the lower levels, just without the crazy look in my eyes.

“Oh, you survived. Nice. The experiment was a success, so let me teach you one more thing as the bonus for putting on a show: meditation.”

“What?” I can barely think, the bloody film covering my eyes unwilling to recede. “Why?”

“A mage’s most valuable resource is his mana. During meditation, you can restore it much faster than usual, the same way sword masters use battle trances. They can restore their supply of stamina right there in the battle. For archers, it’s concentration and a little added strength. They shoot more accurately and do more damage. So… Okay, sit down on the floor like me, relax, and let your thoughts just flow.” Bernard sits down in the lotus pose.

I follow suit and start to think about what to do. On the one hand, I picked up a huge advantage, since I can use my nine spells to develop my intellect, wisdom, and morale. Still, there’s that limit I can’t get past. I’m going to have to pick up more advantages over the next two years. For now, I’ll just get by on the fact that nobody else knows how I fight.

Skill learned: meditation

Meditation: +1

Mana restoration speed: +1%

Bernard somehow knows that I just finished, reacting instantaneously.

“Your meditation skill will grow as long as you don’t run out of mana, which you get faster in places of power. You’ll figure out what those are. Okay, get out of here.”

“Hey, what about my money? My winnings!”

“Oh, right, here you go.”

Still in his meditation pose, he opens his exchange window.

Bernard gives you: 130 gold coins, 17 silver coins

“Thanks.”

Now, it’s time to dash off home, first, because I have a bunch of money on me and second, because it’s already getting late. I have to take my shirt off and stick it in my inventory, running naked from the waist up. I heal my butt to get rid of the debuff. Probably not for long.

Exactly right. As soon as I get home, I see father already standing outside with his belt in his hands.

“Where’s your shirt?”

“In my bag.”

“Put it on. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

I don’t have much of a choice, and father pulls me into the house. When he hears about my deal with Bernard and about how I learned the spells, he starts by laughing long and nervously. Then, he beats me until morning. It’s a tough battle between his belt and my weak healing. Mama cries, father swings away, and I can’t see his face. That’s probably for the better.

When morning breaks, the beating stops and I get a new message.

Resistance to physical damage +0.03%

Physical damage ignored up to 2/second

Life Magic +8

Life spell effectiveness +9%

Survivability +3

Morale +6

Intellect +8

Wisdom +5

After glancing at that, I quickly pull up my attribute window.

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 20

Agility: 20

Stamina: 20

Intellect: 9

Wisdom: 6

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 6

Athleticism: 3

Morale: 7

Survivability: 19

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 10 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 50 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 60 (wisdom*10)

Health: 200 (stamina*10)

Strength: 200 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 190/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 70/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 30/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 6 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 0.03% (Damage ignored: up to 2/second)

Skills

Cooking: 3

Trap setting and disarming: 8

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-holding 5

Stealth: 3

Life Magic: 9

Mind Magic: 1

Space Magic: 1

Earth Magic: 1

Water Magic:1

Fire Magic: 1

Air Magic:1

Light Magic:1

Dark Magic: 1

Meditation: 1

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 2

Blacksmith: 1

Carpenter: 1

I guess my happy face says more than I’d like to show, because father’s smiling at me.

“Get some breakfast, and then tell us more about your deal with the mage.”

As we eat, father tells me how he saved the lives of two mages. Both times, they taught him a spell as a reward. They say you can pay to learn more, but he hasn’t been able to do that.

A hundred of my gold coins are for winning the tournament; the rest is from the bets I placed. When I mention how much I won, including the amount I paid Bernard, father starts coughing and mama breaks a plate. I silently hand father a hundred gold coins.

“You should keep these. I might waste them on something.”

Suddenly, they both burst out laughing, and I realize how silly that sounded.

Once he catches his breath, father continues.

“Mages don’t just teach spells to anyone. I wonder how much that Bernard won to make him so generous. He probably just gave you this hundred gold out of principle. You have to pay for everything. That’s exactly how I got my spells.”

“What, did I win him nine lives?!”

Father and mama smile lightly. The nerves are gone, they’ve calmed down.

“Maybe even ten.”

Then, they glance back at me seriously.

“So, he gave you another spell?”

“No, he taught me how to meditate. He said it works best in places of strength, though I don’t know what they are yet.”

“Meditation…” Father looks blankly at the table. “Sagie, do you want to be a mage when you grow up?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I don’t know much about the other classes. There are robbers, assassins, archers, swordsmen, warriors, paladins, friars, and craftsmen. But it’s almost impossible to get skills from other classes. When I found out that you know some spells, I realized that I could get them, too, and everything just worked out.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask you about the tournament. Sometimes, you fought haphazardly, though you used your opponent’s weaknesses or aimed for their vulnerable spots other times. You used fighting stances, planned your strategy, studied your opponents. Your mother and I know you’re a traveler from another world.”

That much was easy enough to guess by my long absences.

“Then, why were you worried? We can’t die; we’re just resurrected at the last respawn point.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen? We don’t even want to find out.”

Father wasn’t lying. As soon as we’re done eating, he goes back to beating me, this time with double the force. I practice weak healing all the way to dinner.

Resistance to physical damage +0.05%

Physical damage ignored up to 12/second

Life Magic +6

Life spell effectiveness +15%

Survivability +1

Morale +6

Intellect +5

Wisdom +8

Boosting my abilities and attributes is great, but getting beaten for practically 24 hours straight is exhausting… Hard to describe the feeling.

Time to log out.

***

The office windows offered a spectacular view of the sunrise on Jupiter, a great event for the colony. The sight was impressive, making you just want to stop and pause time for a while. On the other hand, the office’s owner paid little attention to the beauty on display. Her internship had been going well until she was handed Anji Ganet. She’d spent the last week digging through text recordings of conversations with doctors, and the notes left by medics. Eliza loved a challenge, and the case was an intriguing one that didn’t fit into the overall picture. A flight took her down to the space port, where she promised the brigadier that the conversation would remain between them. He told her everything he knew about the previous year.

Back when Anji had first appeared in the port, nobody paid him any attention. Then, they’d noticed that some things were missing, they caught the boy, and he quickly confessed to everything. He was required to work off his debt, after which he asked to stay. There were some jobs nobody wanted and he took them. Then, he developed a close relationship with one of the engineers, though he’d disappeared after Galboa’s accident. Nobody had seen him since. The most interesting part was that the description the space port staff gave her couldn’t have been more different from what the doctors and orphanage personnel had written. He was a smart, serious, and talkative child—talkative! Sometimes, he dickered with the workers. With others, he laid out arguments well beyond his years. He didn’t cry; he didn’t whine. The brigadier said that he was even severe, more with himself than with anyone else.

“He’d scare anyone for a laugh, though he was fearless and wouldn’t tolerate anyone making fun of him. All his jobs were done on time. If he were older, I’d offer him a job.”

“What do you think about his behavior in general?”

“He didn’t let anyone close to him. Even when he talked with people, he’d stay a meter or a meter and a half away from them. He was formal with everyone except Galboa and his son.”

Eliza jotted down some notes. The way people behave in society reflects their inner world, which meant that Anji perceived his surroundings as a threat. There were only two people he trusted inside his defenses. Personal space extends out about 80 centimeters from the body, the distance at which we’re comfortable talking, though Anji pushed that out to a good 120 centimeters. Unfortunately, she wasn’t permitted to chat with Galboa—the medical staff weren’t letting anyone in. The doctors were working to restore his body, and he was unconscious.

Eliza had enough material for a conversation with the boy. She expected Anji to meet her halfway, and at that point she’d be able to start behavioral correction. Her strategy and arguments were ready. She knew all of Anji’s weaknesses.

Vaalsie refused to let Ganet visit her in her city office, so she was going to have to visit him in the orphanage. Just two days remained before she’d finally see the subject of all her work.

All she could do was wonder how he’d react.

***

Vaalsie sat in his chair and thought hard, trying to figure out what the psychologist could want with his ward. Anji was no fool, and there was a lot he knew about what went on in the orphanage. Then, there was that incident with the space port. In two days, Vaalsie was going to find out—the room where Eliza would be chatting with the boy was well wired. For the time being, he’d bought time he could use to clear his tracks and talk with Eliza’s potential informants.

***

Logging into the game, I find myself in my room.

It’s morning.

As I eat, father looks at me with some trepidation. It looks like the battle between the belt and weak healing isn’t over yet.

But I’m wrong. Today, I’m running around the village trying to escape a pack of dogs. Thanks to my stamina and health restoration speed, I’m able to keep running without taking a break, but it’s hard to get away from the dogs without killing them. They’re fed lunch; I’m told to keep running. The animals find their second wind, and I notice Rachel, Grunt, and Ownie sitting by the pond and cheering me on.

“Run, Forrest, run!”

The evening turns out to be action-packed. Finally, sometime during the night, I’m allowed to stop. It hurts, but it’s a lot of fun.

Resistance to physical damage: +0.02%

Physical damage ignored: up to 16/second

Speed: +8

Athleticism: +9

It turns out, the dogs were bought as hunters with the very same money I gave father. Four of them, each costing 25 gold coins. Father’s happy, so he tells me about the deal.

“In a week, they’ll be worth 100 gold each.”

“Why?”

“Because they’re going to have attributes good enough for Level 12, and still be just Level 1. They’ll be hearty, fast, and tough, too. They even have class attack skills! We’ll have them nice and well developed in a week.”

“Wa-a-ait… Father… They’re going to train using me?”

The dogs drool as they eye me, and I can’t help feeling awfully nervous.

“Your weak healing, your survivability, and the blissful look you get on your face after I beat you make me the happiest father in the world.” He looks up at the starry sky with a smile and an innocent expression.

“What’s the point?”

“Your own good,” he replied, turning serious again. “The dogs will have a surprise for you tomorrow.”

One eye starts twitching, and I laugh hysterically. My dad is something...

What’s there to say about dogs with green saliva? As it turns out, I’m both running faster and getting poisoned every time they bite me.

You were poisoned by basilisk saliva.

Damage: 8.6/second

Duration: 30 seconds… 29… 28… 27…

Father, what about paralysis? That would have been a real surprise—this is nothing. In 25 seconds, I’ll be dead.

Now, I have to get away from the dogs, heal myself, dodge them, and everything else, and all on the run. Rachel found a bookmaker, so the locals are betting on which circle the dogs will latch into me on. Her father set up a stand by the lake. What kind of a family is that?

There’s yet another surprise waiting for me at dinner. Mama gave the dogs something, so they’re running faster than me now. There are two whole rows of stands by the lake.

Father bets my own thirty gold on me. “Now you have an incentive!”

Right!

Nobody offers me dinner, though the dogs get something like a berserker potion. They don’t feel pain, and I can’t get them off me. I have to run, healing myself constantly, with two dogs hanging onto my shoulders. Their jaws grow stronger. Blood gushes from my wounds.

It’s only when night falls that father lets me go.

Resistance to physical damage: +0.1%

Physical damage ignored: up to 45/seconds

Resistance to poison: +0.1%

Poison damage ignored: 16/second

Speed: +6

Athleticism: +8

Intellect: +6

Wisdom: +6

Life Magic: +8

Life spell effectiveness: +23%

That message is a delight to the eyes. I did what I’ve been trying to do all day.

“Attribute window.”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 20

Agility: 20

Stamina: 20

Intellect: 20

Wisdom: 20

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 20

Athleticism: 20

Morale: 20

Survivability: 20

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 10 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 50 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 200 (wisdom*10)

Health: 200 (stamina*10)

Strength: 200 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 200/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 200/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 200/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 12 km/s (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance:

Physical damage: 0.2% (damage ignored: up to 45/second)

Poison: 0.1% (damage ignored: up to 16/second)

Skills

Cooking: 3

Trap setting and disarming: 8

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-holding: 5

Stealth: 3

Life Magic: 23

Mind Magic: 1

Space Magic: 1

Earth Magic: 1

Water Magic: 1

Fire Magic: 1

Air Magic: 1

Light Magic: 1

Dark Magic: 1

Meditation: 1

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 2

Blacksmith: 1

Carpenter: 1

So many liters of blood in the name of progress! Even the track where I was running is red. On the other hand, it’s all for the best—my winnings turn out to be 80 gold. Time to sleep.

The morning begins oddly. Today, practically everyone in the orphanage stopped their other games to switch over to Project Chrysalis. It’s weird seeing so many happy faces. I kind of feel like I’m in one of those health resorts on Earth or in a Venusian colony.

I log into the game, again finding myself in my room. It looks like that’s my spawn point. Is it my respawn point, too? I’m afraid to find out.

The dogs are sleeping in the kitchen, so I see them as soon as I walk in. I leap into a stance, prepared to fight them off, a reaction father notices.

“We didn’t finish our conversation about who taught you how to fight. You don’t have an ability, but I can teach it to you.”

Mama looks darkly at father. From what I can tell, she doesn’t like his idea of using me to train the dogs.

You can learn a skill: Hand-to-hand combat

I agree without a second thought.

You learned a skill: hand-to-hand combat

Hand-to-hand combat: +1

Barehanded damage done: +1%

“Once you eat, we’ll head out into the yard and get started.”

I don’t have the faintest chance of winning. The difference of a hundred and fifty levels, the experience, the skills… Two hours later, I’ve been hit with twenty debuffs, and I’ve only been able to get rid of sixteen of them. From what father says, people are one big mess of pain points and weak spots: the crown of the head, the bridge of the nose, the chin, the jugular depression, arteries, the solar plexus, the crotch. When you land a strike right, you get a critical hit. You can screw up your opponent’s attack by knocking their coordination off, or land pinpoint blows to different joints. One of the worst hits I took was an open-palm strike to the heart. I lost health, I was paralyzed for a couple seconds, and I had internal bleeding. The second-worst was an open-palm strike to the lower part of my stomach. There, I had to deal with internal bleeding again, not to mention being stunned and taking huge damage. Even with the difference in skills, I realized that I know nothing about hand-to-hand fighting.

And father showed me so many different strikes! You can break the bone in the upper arm, you can shatter knees, and you can destroy elbows. Happily, father didn’t demonstrate all of them on me—he just showed me how to stand and what to do. Then, there’s tearing out the Adam’s apple, using your palm to cut an artery with a rib, bringing your elbow down on the crown of the head, the temple, internal organs, driving the bridge of the nose back into the brain.

“Humans are weak and defenseless. Predators know that, which is why they try to go after your weak points. Even armor has a lot of weaknesses. If you know them, you can do critical damage to your opponents. Those who take the path of the fist turn their whole body into a weapon,” father says, showing me that he doesn’t have anything else. “They can cut a man’s head off with their bare hands or break bones without even disturbing the skin. People like that are rare, but they do exist. Friars fit that mold, though they’re far from the most effective. Their mastery of battle and class skills is just one side of the equation.”

“But humans aren’t the only race.”

“Correct, but most living organisms share the same general body structure. Even the undead have weak points.” Father falls silent before continuing. “Today, your job will be to find the dogs’ weak points during battle.”

Fighting the dogs means constantly healing the poison damage. At this point, I use weak healing without even thinking about it—dodge, parry, attack. Move around. Throw a dog off my neck, heal, block. The dogs use skills like flesh laceration, scratching, and death grip. But it turns out that they aren’t that bad, as biting for them means opening up their throat, neck, eyes, and…stomach. Dogs don’t have abs. Almost every blow I aim in that direction comes up critical, and the dogs whine as I do my damage. When the dogs are all hurt, father calls them away and makes me heal them. I stop noticing their poison, and only now see the log message.

Resistance to poison: +0.05%

Poison damage ignored: 25/second

Resistance to physical damage: +0.04%

Physical damage ignored: up to 40/second

Life Magic: +2

Life spell effectiveness: +25%

Forced disconnection in 3… 2… 1…

Vaalsie is standing next to my capsule, and there’s a woman I’ve never seen standing next to him in a white suit. Both of them radiate confidence in their superiority. They’re going to yell at me over nothing, and then I’ll see what they offer.

***

The boy seemed neither fearful nor jumpy. All he did was sit there quietly waiting for the visitors, his eyes fixed on them.

“Anji, Miss Elizabeth would like to talk with you. You can chat in the cafeteria,” Vaalsie said, gesturing toward the door. “Anji will walk you there, miss. You’ll have the room for another hour.”

“Thank you.”

After settling in at a long table and spreading some papers out in front of the boy, Elizabeth started talking, aiming to take the conversation in the direction she needed.

“Hi, Anji. My name is Eliza Donovan. I’m a psychologist, which means that I help kids fit in better at their orphanages. You’re on our list of kids who don’t fit in with the group. You don’t talk with anyone else, and you’re constantly fighting.”

The boy listened indifferently, his manner relaxed. He wasn’t nervous, and he didn’t respond. The psychologist’s trained eye caught all those little details.

“You used to talk, but then you stopped. Why is that?”

Anji sat there quietly just like any other kid who doesn’t want to say anything. His arms were crossed, as were his legs.

“I went to the space port.” The boy’s expression changed to one of interest. “While I was there, I talked with the brigadier, who told me you spent all your free time for the past year there. You worked with an engineer named Galboa, and you had a great time talking with everyone there. It’s only here in the orphanage that you don’t say anything to anyone.”

It looked like Anji tensed up, expecting a blow. He glanced over at the cameras, which were turned off, and what looked like places where there was nothing.

When the patient is closed off or doesn’t want to talk, the psychologist’s job is to pull them out of their comfort zone and get them riled up.

“Open your mouth! I’m talking to you!” Eliza suddenly raised her voice, trying to take the boy off guard. He was obviously on the edge and terrified. The whole time, he kept looking around and glancing toward the exit. “If you don’t answer me right now, I’ll tell the other kids that you aren’t mute and spill the beans about your deal with the supervisor.”

Anji calmed down instantly, a single look of rage and disgust flashing quickly over his face. He stood up and went over to the exit. Once there, he stopped in front of the force field keeping him from going any further.

Eliza decided to press her advantage while the boy was scared.

“You’ll leave this room when I say you can. And if you don’t sit right down, I’ll give orders to cut Galboa’s hospital payments.”

Anji looked at the girl with undisguised anger, the veins in his temples throbbing. Still, he stayed silent. All he did was give the top of the control panel a smack and release the force field with two motions.

Eliza stayed sitting at the table as she thought through what had just happened. The boy wasn’t letting her in. She hadn’t got him to trust her. That was clear from before the conversation started, though. You have to use strength when you’re talking with kids from the orphanages, otherwise they’ll take your affection and concern as weakness. But her attempt to press him had been an abject failure. His peers didn’t scare him, and her mention of Galboa had engendered more rage than fear.

***

Vaalsie was livid! The sedatives were all that helped him calm down. As soon as Eliza left, he started analyzing the information he had got from her “conversation.” Anji, the little brat, knew about the cameras, and could even tell that the main ones were off and the hidden ones were still working. If he started talking, he could say what was actually happening in the orphanage, that the older kids were taking protection money, and that Vaalsie got a share. Anji’d looked mute, so Vaalsie hadn’t been afraid of telling anyone, but it turned out that he’d spent a whole year chattering away in the space port. How could he have done that? The little sniveler apparently had a good head on his shoulders. He’d finished the previous school year by passing all his tests ahead of time.

Slowly, the supervisor hatched a plan. If he couldn’t make the boy stay quiet, he could at least make sure that he didn’t want to talk about all that. For example, he could give Anji one of the younger kids to start getting kickbacks from. Alternatively, he could scare him into joining the collection team as a junior member. The goal was clear—all that remained was to figure out how to reach it. In the meantime, he had to push back on Anji, and he knew how he was going to do that. The kid had broken the control panel for the force field in the cafeteria and left his meeting with the psychologist. Vaalsie figured he could use Eliza’s words against Anji.

***

I logged into the game in a lousy mood, determined to take my anger out on someone. When I walk into the back yard, I see father washing the dogs.

“Continue!” He releases them, the smile never leaving his face. It looks permanent.

Without thinking, I let the creatures have it. They go flying away, whimpering as they hit the ground. Father’s smack to the forehead brings me to my senses, and his furrowed brow tells me how serious he is.

“Feel better?”

“Yes, thanks.”

“Did something happen? Why are you so mad?” Father calls the dogs over so I can heal them.

“In my world, someone tried to use my…the love I have for the people close to me. They threatened to hurt me, too. I could kill her!”

“Why didn’t you?”

“The consequences would be worse than staying in control and suffering through it.”

“In that case, accept the decision you made and calm down. The dogs didn’t do anything to you.”

“Sorry, father.”

You got a debuff: Astral anchor

Effect: You can no longer go farther than 30 meters away from where you currently are.

Duration: 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds… 58… 57…

Looks like the supervisor is up to his tricks. I’m not even going to ask—he wouldn’t tell me the truth anyway. Father, apparently, can see my panel of effects.

“What’s that for? Did you do something else?”

“That’s what I get for refusing.”

“Well, at least you’ll be sleeping at home.”

I sit on the ground, healing myself after the hit father gave me, and think. The worst part is that Vaalsie found out I can talk. Also, that I was working at the space port. He’s losing money by not having me in his collection crew. I told Galboa about the cameras and where they usually were, as we often repaired the electric systems on ships, including video surveillance systems. Anyway, I’m going to have a problem with the collectors. And if Eliza tells them I can talk, they’re really going to come after me. She could hurt Galboa, too!

My heart clenches with pain and anger. He could suffer because of me. I need to send him my savings from the anonymous account. If there’s a problem, that will help a little. I can’t use the money officially anyway.

Vaalsie did a good job—I can’t get rid of the debuff. It’s the kind you can only give to the people under you, and it means that I won’t be playing or using the time as effectively as possible. A quick pang tugs at my heart as that word reminds me of Galboa.

“Sagie, I get that you’re hurting right now.” Father can read me like an open book. “Still, you need to realize that the situation isn’t hopeless. Mama can teach you cooking, and that’s a skill you can use to make simple potions. We have other professions, too: tailor, blacksmith, carpenter, mage. And thirty meters…well, that takes us right down to the lake. We’ll fish from the shore.”

“Thank you.”

Galboa said that solving problems gives you experience and makes solving the next one even easier. The opposite is true, too: run away, and you’ll be weaker the next time. For some reason, the most valuable lessons people can learn are the ones that hurt the most. Pain… Hey, there’s an idea!

“We have the dogs, too,” I say with a smile. Father realizes what I mean.

“That we do.”

Meditation: +1

Mana restoration speed: +2%

Oh, and meditation.

You got a debuff: Vow of silence

Effect: You can’t speak or use the internal chat.

Duration: 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

Father reads the description of the debuff and simply grins. So, he really can read my effect panel.

Then, he comes at me with a horrific combination of blows. The finishing touch is held back at the last moment, but I can tell the difference in everything. What I know about hand-to-hand combat is how to win or defend myself without killing anyone. What father knows is the art of killing. It’s the same ability, just different ways of using it.

Rachel… She comes by twice a day and teases me, telling me that I have put down roots. I like listening to her chatter on about life in the city. I like how she laughs as father tosses me around like a windmill. In the morning, while we’re fishing, she swims in the lake with the guys. It’s nice to know that she’s nearby. Her red, disheveled hair is down to her shoulder blades, and the dress she bought at the fair looks great on her. She’s so beautiful.

Real life is nothing but a series of fights. The collectors tell me I’m disrespecting them by ignoring them when they talk to me.

“What, tiny, you couldn’t stop blathering and kissing ass over at the space port, but talking with us is too much? What if–”

A punch to the Adam’s apple stops that nonsense. The psychologist kept her word; they know I was over in the space port and that I can talk. I’m going to have to cooperate or double down.

The whole week, as soon as I pull myself out of the capsule, I have company looking to “chat.” And every time, the sound system goes off with a significant delay. Vaalsie is purposely ignoring the whole thing. My body is slowly turning into one big bruise, but I always hit back in reply. Now, my attackers walk around with polished faces, and by the end of the week, they’re leaving me alone. All I have to deal with is two more weeks of extended studies.

Five days with your family means a lot to an orphan. In the morning, father goes off to fish, while mama and I walk him out. There’s just a little more than two more days left until astral anchor is lifted. Mama taught me how to cook and sew, and it turns out that sewing with enchanted thread gives the clothes a better bonus. You can make regular clothes more durable that way, too.

Mama watches me cook, correcting me when I make mistakes. When father comes home, we train the dogs or make traps for wild beasts. Then, in the evening, we sit around the fire, and he shows me his carpentry skills.

“Sagie, look. This is a wolf call. It howls when you blow into it, calling the wolves to the hunt. Craftsmen all have a skill, something that makes the items they produce even better. If you got one of these from a master carpenter, you’d be able to summon everything living within five hundred meters of where you are. Masters are better at working with the material. More effective, really. This material is low quality, so this call is only good for one use.”

I look at the tool in his hand with surprise. Father stares into the fire thoughtfully, and then he takes a drink of the thick berry juice in his cup before continuing.

“There’s always a balance between how durable something is and how many times you can use it. To make the right sound, you need to have a lot of stamina, too. Blowing into the wolf call makes it lose half its durability. Of course, that makes sense. What else would you expect from normal wood? It’s a wolf call made out of yew wood. Masters use better-quality materials, and they can even fortify them with magic. They try not to do that though, since you can’t enchant the material once you do.”

Father tells and shows me so much. It turns out that ice takes years to melt on the sun, bones bend, and wood can become stone. He uses a large bone to show me. After washing a special solution off it, he straightens it out, cuts off the end, and makes a stool leg. Out of bone!

“When it dries, it will become hard enough that you can carve something into the surface.”

The craftsman skill gives you big bonuses. To compare, I carved wooden knives, my 1-2 damage against my father’s 20-25. That doesn’t even take into account the +4 bonuses for strength and stamina.

“Here, take this knife. It’ll remind you of your first time working with wood.”

Wooden knife

Knife carved out of a block of yew wood by a skilled master.

Physical damage: 20-25

Durability: 400/400

Strength: +4

Stamina: +4

I don’t have a class, not to mention another level. The knife could as well be legendary! It looks great in my hand, something like a short, one-handed sword. On the other hand, I’m not a warrior, so I don’t get any additional damage for my fighting skills. I do more with my fists.

It’s the final day of my punishment, and we’re training the dogs - using me. Not being afraid of pain is an odd sensation, and you feel much more confident when you know that you can heal up any cuts the dogs’ teeth make.

Rachel stops by in the evening. She stops by a lot, always asking me to tell her how I learned my spells. She’s wearing a dress with a corset and a short, light-green skirt with matching tall boots. When she comes, I just look at her and smile. Father shouting at me and the dog latching onto my arm bring me to my senses pretty quickly, though I almost die before I’ve had my fill of looking at her.

“You’re too young to be staring at girls.”

Rachel turns bright red and spins around. Grunt and Ownie, who popped out from behind her, practically double over laughing.

As soon as night falls, father tells me that we’re done for the day.

“Hey, Sagie, sweetie, help me out…” When Rachel uses that voice, I can’t help but say yes. “I want to learn magic, too. The problem is that mages won’t listen to me, though they might think twice or give me some terms if you asked. I definitely can’t fight, and paying a hundred gold for a spell… I don’t have that kind of money. When father found out, he started looking at me funny.”

Why does she have to look at me like that?

“My punishment is over tomorrow, so we’ll go together. I’ve been wanting to go to the library anyway. I was there, but I didn’t get to read anything.”

“You know how to read? But you’re so little! Or do you need picture books?” Rachel, feeling cheered up, goes back to laughing at me.

I’m not five; I’m twelve! She has such a biting tongue.

“I’m not little!” Everyone who sees me laughs at my tone and the expression on my face.

When everyone leaves, I sit down and start to think about other skills I could pick up. I’m almost maxed out with the ones I have, which means it’s time to learn new ones. Also, I’d like to pick up a pet for myself at the fair. When I told father, he recommended that I find something useful. It’s been more than a week since the game officially opened, and I’ve noticed a lot of new players. There are more kids in our village, though I don’t talk with them much. I’m still stuck to my house with astral anchor.

I want to be a wizard! I make up my mind to start working in that direction. I’ll need information about magic and mages as well as the class.

Also, I need to find a way out of the orphanage. Project Chrysalis could help with that, though nothing’s coming to mind.

You can read about mages at the library or ask at the magic stand, and I’d like to visit the Academy of Magic, too. If the training there is similar to what I do in real life, I can start preparing even now. I need to find everything out. It’s almost an hour to run to the city, three if you’re walking. I can’t run every day, so tomorrow will be all about looking for information.

It’s a long walk, and Rachel talks the whole way. I think she spends all her free time in the city. But she came to visit me every morning and evening, right? Her athleticism is only up to 3, so we have to walk to the city.

Bernard teaches me a Space spell.

Spell: Telekinesis

Description: Lets you move things with your mind. The maximum weight and distance is equal to your intellect.

Effect: Move items weighing up to 20.4 kg

Distance: 20.4 meters

Mana: 1/kg

I practice the whole way. While I wait for Rachel, I find a good-sized stone and get to work. First, I send it spinning around in a circle, then I send it hovering above my head. That turns out to be a valuable lesson: when I relax, it falls and hits me right on the top of my skull. Rachel howls when things like that happen, making wisecracks about the level of my intellect. I’ve never heard anything like it at the orphanage or even at the space port—we have plenty of direct insults there, but not so many round-about hints.

Rachel doesn’t ask about my attributes, and I hid them at father’s recommendation. “Never show your attribute window to anyone—that would show them your weaknesses.” Because of that, Rachel can’t tell that none of the stones do me any damage. I can’t work two spells at once though. When I activate the second, the first one goes inactive. On the other hand, I can control several rocks along the same plane, though keeping even two going separately is beyond me. I need something more for that. I have the feeling that I need to do two different things at once, and my consciousness just isn’t ready yet. The same is true for my other spells.

As we walk into the city, Rachel tells me that she’s going to look for Bernard, and I set off for the library. Murokami is still sitting there at his desk.

“Hi, Murokami. I need to get in, but I can’t ask my father to come. I can leave you money as security for the books though.”

“You can go in. Here’s my card. Use it if you want to check some books out.” I wasn’t expecting that at all. The one-eyed monster grunts. “I saw the battle at the fair. You beat my nephew in the final, and I trained him myself.”

“Thanks,” I say as I take the card from him. “Hey, what class are you? That friar was really strong.”

“Not telling you. Why do you ask?”

That didn’t go well—learning that would have told me about his weaknesses, too.

“I’m sorry. What I’m looking for is information about mage training and the academy.”

My answer elicits a barrage of laughter. Murokami even falls off the chair, though he continues his horse-like whinnying.

“Kid, do you want to go to jail for high treason, too?” He goes back to laughing. “Their training program, the way they develop skills, and everything about magic potential are academy secrets, and considered state secrets. You can find information about the academy on the second floor. Everything about the magic arts is up there.”

“I don’t need your secrets! I just want to know what they teach there and what the academy is.”

“Ah, that’s okay. Second floor, east wing, last row. That’s where we have books about the Academy of Magic for the human nations.”

“Why the human nations?”

“You’d have to be a kid like you not to know that, with some hints but no real knowledge. Nobody really likes humans. Dwarves and elves are immortal, and they think of humans as untalented, shortlived, and disjointed. Orcs despise us for being weak. Trolls and orcs both think of us as something between food and the dirt under their feet, while goblins only like us when we’re fried. Kobolds are wild, without a single city—just villages. Anyway, that’s why humans set up the Academy of Magic. The races all protect their knowledge, and here you are just asking about how people study at the academy.”

“It’s so complicated! Does everyone talk in different languages?”

“Yep.”

“Crazy! Will I be able to read the books up there?”

“Yes, human children know our language from the time they’re born.”

It really is complicated. All I wanted to do was read about magic, and now this. How do they write? I decide not to ask. I can just read about it.

“Do mages speak the normal language?”

“Each race has its own language. I’ve heard that mages all use one alphabet—the true mage alphabet. The academy itself is in the capital, so go read and see what you can find. Bernard sometimes hangs around here, and he’s up on the second floor now. You can ask him.”

“Thanks. Do you know where I can learn the animal taming or cartography skills?”

“Those are class skills, so you won’t get them if you become a mage. But I’m not some stranger you can just ask everything. Go in, though first, leave ten gold here.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.”

“The right to use the library costs five gold a month. You get to use it for free, so stop whining.”

Murokami wasn’t lying. The books about the Academy of Magic make up a whole wall, and I read the spines until I find what I’m looking for: A Description of the Academy of Magic for Visitors and Future Students. It isn’t your usual academy. It’s more a library, a training range, and a testing center all at once. Graduates can get the mage class and a specialty, learn class skills, and study the magical arts. There are ten steps to the program, after which you get the rank of apprentice. Then, there’s master, followed by grand master. Each course and test gives you an additional 5% bonus to the damage you do within your specialty. Each new rank adds 12.5%.

Students at the academy have to wear a mage’s ring. For battle mages, tests are a duel with their teacher, first, with a Level 75 teacher who has the same level skill, second, with a Level 100 teacher. For the tenth step, the teacher is all the way up at Level 300. Knowledge tests are harder though: the apprentice test is given by a Level 350 teacher, who’s both a master swordsman and a mage. From what the book says, in all the time the Academy of Magic has been around, only 27 people have reached the rank of grand master in their specialty. There’s nothing about archmages. And why did Bernard say that your specialty gives you a 50% bonus? It’s actually up to 100%. Mages at the third step and higher can work with their own mental body. That’s the focus of half the fourth step, though there isn’t anything about skills. With that in mind, I go off looking for a book about them. I also want to find out what mages learn after the fifth circle, though I can’t find so much as a hint.

Bernard told me a lot last time that isn’t in the books. I have everything stored in the logs, so cutting out the best parts leaves me with what I need to know. “The mental body and the ability to work with it; enchanting; creating artifacts; the path of the sword in magic; assassination methods; working with the astral; magic sieges; a general course on blood magic, ritual magic, demonology, chemerology, malefism, mysticism, necromancy; and part of how to fight them.” At the fair, he said that they teach kids born into mage families from the time they’re born. Let’s just say I’m that kind of kid. Thanks to father, I’ll teach myself.

I walk away from the shelves with a bag full of books—just a few more, and I won’t be able to run. Bernard gave me the most valuable information I have without even knowing it. Now, I have a few reasons to talk with him.

He’s sitting in the same spot as the first time I met him here. Rachel is hovering around in the corner, not able to make up her mind whether to bother him or not. She has already written in chat that she found him, though I was busy reading. Just like last time, he isn’t surprised to see me.

“Get out of here. I’m not going to play your games.”

“Hi, Bernard. I’m actually not here to ask about me; there’s a girl that really wants to become a mage, so maybe–”

“If you leave now, they won’t find your body in a gutter somewhere.” Bernard is in a lousy mood.

“Is there something I can help you with so you’ll help the girl?”

“Hm, a child…” Bernard looks at me closely. “Okay, but you should know that this isn’t exactly legal. I need a book…a forbidden book. It’s in the basement of the main Temple of Teurus, the god of moderation. The author is Gunther Moro, Belief and Its Meaning in Our World. I’m positive that it’s there.”

I figured that Bernard was a turncoat mage when he first agreed to teach me magic. He obviously wants more than the Academy of Magic can give him.

“If you bring me the book, I’ll teach the girl the same spells I taught you.”

New quest: Find the forbidden book

Bernard is looking for a way to get a book hidden in the basement under the main Temple of Teurus.

Reward: Bernard will teach Rachel nine first element spells.

I stop to think. I’m no master of stealth, I don’t know how to pick locks, and I can’t see traps in the dark. On the other hand, anyone who’s lived in an orphanage knows how to steal. You have to have someone to stand watch. Also, you need someone to attract attention if you’re discovered, someone to cover your escape. That’s just the usual. But if they catch us…

“Anji, sweetie, please help. I’ve never asked you for anything! Nobody’s willing to teach me spells, so this is such a good chance. I’ll get the guys to join us, too. He won’t even talk to me.” Bernard just grunts and turns toward the window. “See? He doesn’t even want to look at me!”

How do you turn down a girl who’s looking at you so trustingly and piercingly with her light-blue eyes? She’s so close I can smell her perfume, see every thread in her dress. She’s so beautiful! I blush and look down.

“Okay, I’ll help you.”

Bernard turns back, taking that as my answer.

“I don’t care how you get the book.”

You accepted a quest: Find the forbidden book

Rachel’s eyes flash, she jumps for joy, and runs out of the reading room with a shriek. That’s perfect. I need to ask Bernard something.

“Last time, when we were talking about mages and their specialties, you mentioned a 50% damage bonus. Today, I read that you can get 100%.”

“There wasn’t anything about how you can get a 200% bonus? Weird. Ah, yes, there just aren’t many of those nutcases! There really aren’t any mages who go beyond the tenth step. Do you even know what a master swordsman is? They’re mage-killers! They even have mastery levels, and they have class amulets that suppress magic damage. But someone who’s a mage and a master swordsman at once? They’re death machines! Regular mages can’t do anything against them. Your only shot is going in with an epic set of equipment with divine enchantments. That way, you’d have a chance. But even winning your apprenticeship is practically impossible. There are tens of thousands of mages, but only hundreds with a rank. Even fewer give tests, since a third serve the crown. Another third are in security, the rest are in the army.”

“But what about that 200%? Were you joking?”

Bernard starts laughing quietly, then bursts out, practically in tears.

“Almost. You have to beat the academy’s archmage, a Level 750 universal mage. Nobody even knows what his true skills are. If you beat him, you become an archmage, and there have only been two over the past two thousand years. One is our venerable Tiberius Sen, the Academy of Magic’s archmage. The second was Kent, a wanderer like you. He beat Tiberius. There’s even a book about it.”

“What do you mean, a wanderer? We just started showing up two weeks ago. Although…wait, at the fair, you said that you’ve already met some wanderers. How? When?”

“Read the books. All I’ll tell you is that the last time they were here was 1500 years ago. Sometimes, they’re alone, and nobody pays you any attention. Why do you ask?”

I quickly gather my thoughts.

“Three questions. Magic seals: why isn’t there anything about them in the books? What do mages study starting in their fifth year? How will I find the book if it’s in a hiding place?”

“Seals are only used for stationary protection or summoning. In either case, that’s class knowledge. Second, you get a practice assignment. I mean, you do whatever you want or just improve your skills by completing quests. Mage ranks demonstrate mastery, experience, and strength. There aren’t many of them, but they’re a big honor. Third, learn this.”

You have a new skill offer: Perception

Perception lets you find things that are hidden: hiding places, treasure, traps, levers. It also helps you discover those who are using the stealth skill or camouflage. If the level of your skill is higher than the level of theirs, you will spot a trap, or something hidden.

“Thanks.”

Ability learned: Perception

Perception: +1

In one of the taverns in the lower city, I find teachers for bandits, thieves, and assassins. They all teach stealth, so I head over into the far corner and crouch down, having entered in stealth mode. Newcomers activate their newly received skill on the spot, meaning that I see them and boost my perception. It’s both perception and stealth for me, and the next evening I finally get a message telling me that my skill is maxed.

Stealth keeps you invisible, and anyone can learn it. Bandit invisibility is the strongest mental class skill, and you can only get it at Level 50.

Camouflage isn’t a skill; it’s more an indicator of your ability to blend in with your surroundings.

Mages also have invisibility spells, though I don’t have access to them yet. You have to keep casting them, too.

It’s fun to sit there for two days, watch grown men drink beer and boast about how many rabbits they’ve shot. A few high-level thieves throw apples at me, calling it my punishment for being spotted. That turns out nice though. I don’t take any damage, and I’m going to enjoy the fruit on the way home, but not today.

***

Rachel was on edge. Everyone involved in the plan was in place, and the last member of the team, the one responsible for doing the job, was about to show up. She was betting quite a bit, with Grunt and Ownie, with no idea about the stakes, her insurance. There was a way out if things went south.

***

Rachel, Ownie, and Grunt were waiting near the temple. The guys take up their position, ready to lead the chase off away from us if we’re spotted, while Rachel and I walk in.

“Give me the dagger—I’ll cover you.” Rachel holds out her hand.

“It’s my knife. Father gave it to me!”

“I’ll give it back.”

The guys wait on the street. If something goes wrong, they’ll write to us in the group chat.

We get into the temple through the basement windows, one of them coming right out of its frame. Yesterday, we figured out the guards’ patrol schedule, and we know that the high priest and his two assistants are the only ones left inside.

Finding ourselves in a corridor lined with monastic cells and leading down to the basement, one door catches my attention. There’s a wheel and a sickle carved into it. Of course, it doesn’t open. Bernard did say that the book is in the basement though, so we got busy looking for the key. Rachel found it in the lectern prominently displayed in a prayer hall.

We both use stealth to move through the corridor. While I’m heading down into the basement, Rachel stands guard outside. I don’t know what to expect - treasure chests, guards, guard dogs, or something else. In the end, around a turn, I just see a small room. One of the walls is ajar. Pushing it aside, I find a secret room. Thanks to my skills, I notice a hidden candlestick and an unusual rock in one of the walls. Was the room robbed, and they just forgot to close it? Just to make sure, I check to see if anyone’s inside. It’s the temple’s main storeroom, after all and this is Teurus’ main temple. Will the god be mad at me if I take more than just one book? I didn’t anticipate a second chance.

Everything is there: five books on demonology, a grimoire for superior necromancer, and three tomes on Shegel’s ritual magic. This isn’t a temple storeroom. It’s where they hide everything they confiscate! The book I’m looking for is lying on a separate shelf and looks really nice. I wonder what’s forbidden about it.

There isn’t much time left. I grab all the books I find and start back, weighed down by a 90% overload - 40 kilograms, only five of which are clothes. It doesn’t matter in stealth mode, but I won’t be able to run if the guards find me. Ultimately, I have to leave some things there: Rage of the Sun epic ritual daggers and two complete legendary sets of darkness. They stay there on the shelves, looking awfully intriguing. The daggers smell like blood, a scent I’ve become very accustomed to over the past two weeks.

I don’t see Rachel in the corridor, so I pull up the group chat.

“Rachel, where are you? It’s time to go. I found the book.”

“Come over to the other end of the corridor, the door with the sickle and the wheel. You’ll like what I found here.”

Twenty meters later, I find the door and notice that it isn’t completely closed. A white stone floor glistens in the moonlight. Rachel is sitting on it wearing a light dress and diadem, and she whispers to me.

“Come here. Sit down next to me.”

“What are you doing? They’re going to wake up!”

She giggles. “When else are you going to have the chance to sit in such a cool place? Come on, don’t worry.”

Rachel smiles, practically brimming with happiness. In the silver moon rays, she looks surpassingly beautiful. I sit down next to her. It’s strange - the stone is warm, and the light is somehow surreal and hot. Something’s wrong. Just then, Rachel stands up. I want to stand up, too, but her hand stops me.

“Lie down. I want to show you something.” Rachel looks off to the side.

“Why?”

Girls are weird!

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

“Lie down and close your eyes.”

I lie down and feel the warmth wafting through my body. The light even makes its way through my closed eyelids, and I hear a whisper that makes me want to open my eyes and stand up.

Damage taken: 423 (ignored: 421)

198/200

“Ow, what are you doing?”

I open my eyes to see two grown men holding me down on the floor as Rachel aims my own knife at me. Bernard steps out from behind her back.

“Rachel, come on. Let me give you a few buffs.”

Damage taken: 447 (ignored: 421)

174/200

It takes me just a couple seconds to heal myself, though the situation quickly changes. Rachel starts stabbing me relentlessly. One of the guys holding me asks a question.

“What’s wrong? You have a ritual knife. Why didn’t he die right away?”

“Who the hell knows?” Bernard replies. Rachel slashes away, trying to reach my heart. The knife doesn’t make it very far, as she isn’t that strong.

“Should I help?”

“No, she has to do this herself.” Bernard waves his staff, and Rachel starts striking harder and faster.

“Why-y-y?” I shriek through my tears, more frustrated than in pain. Helpless!

Damage taken: 496 (ignored: 421)

8/200

“Sorry, Sagie. You have to die here.”

Her eyes… Her eyes are decisive. She’s going to kill me. Why am I so afraid?

Bernard waves his staff one more time and says something.

Damage taken: 551 (ignored: 421)

0/200

***

Eliza scrolled back through the recordings of the most recent tests in which Anji had participated. He’d answered all the questions correctly no matter how hard they were, even finished the course early. The previous two weeks had been spent having one fight after another with his peers. They beat him up over and over again, the supervisor turning a blind eye and writing it off as a problem with the sound system. This too had all started after their conversation in the cafeteria. The girl turned to the recording she’d made with her personal 3D camera.

She’d turned it on when she stepped into the private area. There was Anji cringing when she talked, there he was when he turned furious. And there was that odd little bit she’d noticed in person. The boy was afraid, but he wasn’t looking at her; he was looking at the cameras. Then, his gaze fell on an empty area with a small black spot.

“Enlarge that area.”

ArtIn Moro obediently enlarged the wall with the black spot.

“You damn bastard!”

Eliza could curse with the best of the loaders on the lower levels. When she checked the other areas Anji had glanced at, she found other hidden cameras.

“Moro, create a personal virtual space for me and Anji Ganet. I don’t want anyone to have access except for us. You can say it’s because the boy needs a series of consultations for social adaptation.”

“Understood, Miss Elizabeth.”

***

My eyes are awash with tears. Watching your heart getting pierced by a dagger isn’t the most pleasant of sights, especially when it is being pierced by the only friend you have in the world… “You have to die here.” It hurts. My heart hurts, my nose is running, my head is throbbing - a brief moment of despair.

You were sacrificed during a ritual.

Your soul was sent to Hell.

There is no respawn point. If you die in Hell, your soul will be held in a soul crystal belonging to the Lord of the Domain and used as an energy source.

New world structure: 5th level

Demonification: 0.01%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Fifth Sequence Limiter activated

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 421)

121/200

Tears pour from my eyes and drip onto the ashes. Rage, fury, terror, fear. I’m afraid. The betrayal hurts, my whole body hurts.

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 421)

42/200

Weak healing! Weak healing! Weak healing!

Survivability: +1

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 421)

84/200

That’s odd. My survivability is improving, and I was already at the max level. If I don’t heal, I’m going to die in three seconds. Where am I?

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 421)

52/200

Wondering about my survivability distracts me from my mental anguish. Weak healing! Weak healing! I’m in the Fields of Ash, there are rivers and lakes of lava around me, and some trees even scatter the area. Mini map!

Current location: First Circle of Hell. Limbo.

Fields of Ash

“Well, how’s that for a quick trip to grab a book?” I can’t tell if I want to laugh or cry. No people… There aren’t any people here. Exactly what I wanted… Hahaha…

I laugh through the tears.

Forced transfer to personal virtual space

Initiator: Eliza Donovan

Transfer in: 10… 9… 8… 7… 3… 2… 1 second

***

Eliza was waiting for Anji in the virtual space she’d created, though his arrival turned out to be…unexpected. As soon as he arrived, Anji collapsed in a fit of hysterics. He cried, he laughed, he rolled up into the fetal position. There he was, helpless, and any attempt to interact with him would have been taken as open aggression.

The space Eliza created looked like the room she’d lived in when she was little. With the flowers and stuffed animals scattered around, patients felt comfortable and at ease, ready to talk. All she had to do was attract Anji’s attention, and her parents’ piano was perfect for that.

She sat down and started playing a melody. The boy needed to relax, though his reaction, once again, was unexpected.

“I despise you women. I despise you with everything that I am.” The boy stood up and stared daggers at her. “You’re weak, stupid, devious, cruel, ruthless, ready to betray everything to get what you want. I will never work with you, be friends with you, or love you ever again. I despise you.”

“I think there’s been an unfortunate misunderstanding,” Eliza started to reply, though the boy had already turned off the sound and was leaving the virtual space.

How could he spout that and walk away? she thought angrily. But it was fine. She’d created the space, and, as a doctor, she had the right to keep people from leaving it for up to two hours a day (no more than thirty hours a month). At least, the boy had said something to her. That was a start.

When Anji arrived the second time, he turned off the sound immediately and sat down in the corner looking away from her. For two hours, he didn’t respond to anything. He didn’t even get tired. That could only mean that he was online via his capsule interface, so Eliza turned off his access to the infonet.

Eliza knew somebody had been watching them, and she assumed it was Vaalsie with his intrigues.

Anji didn’t react to the infonet being turned off, giving Eliza time to think. The boy had come here from the game, complete with that odd conclusion about women. She hadn’t noticed anything like that from him previously. Could he have been abused? Probably not. Psychological trauma? What was it? With the infonet turned off, she wasn’t able to see what he’d been doing. But the problem definitely lay in Project Chrysalis.

Two hours later, he left the personal room.

“Moro, set another one up with Anji Ganet tomorrow for the same time. You can use the same reason.”

“Got it.”

***

Rachel looked at the sacrificial floor where Anji had been lying just a second before. There were no tears; just a light fear of facing the future. He would delete his character and come back to avenge himself, but she wouldn’t be there.

“Hurry, hurry, everyone into the circle. Rachel, the center. Pour the blood of the high priest over the altar.”

Everyone Bernard had hidden under a canopy of invisibility formed two circles around the altar and took each other’s hands.

“Let’s begin.” Bernard started tracing a complex magical sign in the blood. For an NPC, he wasn’t that talkative and had a nasty personality.

“Rachel, place your hand on the stone. We’re beginning the next part of the plan.”

The girl’s real father stood behind her, the responsibility for executing the next part on his shoulders.

Everyone in the room began singing magic songs, and as they did, the stone glowed, and Rachel was bathed in a wave of the warm light. Her whole body felt light.

You are now a vessel of divine energy.

“All of your energy into this crystal,” Bernard said, focusing on new elements of the magic sign that he was drawing. Rachel obediently drained her mana into the crystal.

Almost an hour went by, until the box they had was almost full of crystals.

“Leon, it’s your turn. Lie down on the stone.”

The girl’s father bowed to Leon, a man thirty-five years old with a powerful demeanor. He turned out even to have the first and highest level of citizenship.

“Level 77 - nice work! This is going to hurt, so get ready.”

“This is nothing compared to what I would be prepared to do.”

Leon lied down on the stone, which let out another wave of light that engulfed his body.

“Let’s begin.”

The crystals full of divine energy started burying themselves in Leon. He cried out and reflexively tightened up, though he didn’t get up. As soon as his health approached zero, Rachel’s father healed him just enough to be able to take one more hit. That continued until the last crystal cut short Leon’s life there on the sacrificial stone. Suddenly, the room was flooded with light pouring in from the windows.

Global message: A new god, Leon, appeared in the small pantheon.

It had worked! For the ritual to work, they’d needed an innocent child who would lie down willingly on the altar of the god as a sacrifice. The one bringing the offering had to be innocent as well, becoming holy as the soul of the victim was taken to Hell. The saint cоuld receive divine energy from any altar or the sacrificial stone of their god, or, as in that case, a god without a firstborn. They use that energy to carry out the word of their faith and create miracles. Rachel had just become one such saint, and she’d charged the crystals with the energy of the divine.

The high priest of the temple had the strongest tie to the god, giving his blood the same. The final part of the ritual was to create a twisted seal that could be used to summon the divine avatar. Then, all the energy was poured into the person lying on the altar at that moment, which enabled Leon to become a god. The magic crystals served to temporarily store and then transfer the divine energy.

All of that had to be done within an hour after the death of the firstborn. They’d made it in time.

“Merlen, thank you. Everyone, thank you.” Leon, glowing brightly, addressed everyone in the room. “Just like I promised, you will all be acolytes in my cult, and top acolytes at that! Bernard… Where’s Bernard?”

Everyone looked around, but he was nowhere to be found. The mage had left without saying goodbye as soon as the ritual was complete.

“He ran away!”

“Hm, smart guy,” Leon laughed. “I guess he realized that we weren’t going to leave any witnesses. Nate, you can let the kids from the street go. We don’t need them anymore. Merlen, let’s go up to my office. We need to discuss finances for all the work we have to do.”

Rachel was overjoyed. She was the illegitimate daughter of Merlen Ruzh, the financial director and a shareholder at Star Ship, her mother a wide-romping woman who slept with him once. For all her seventeen years with her mother, Rachel had the fifth level of citizenship, subjecting her to constant abuse, betrayal, and intrigue. She’d worked the previous two years in her father’s office. Using flattery, lies, and her body, she’d been able to skip a few rungs on the career ladder, keeping her close to her father. Everything Rachel had done was designed to capture his attention. As soon as Merlen found out that she was his daughter and had access to the beta test for Project Chrysalis, he offered her the role she was currently playing, not to mention a promising future. Her job was to find the right child for the ritual and get him to the sacrificial stone.

“One more step down.” Rebecca Ruzh smiled.

***

It turns out that psychologists can be useful. After telling her what I thought about women, I feel better. The pain Eliza caused by telling the other orphans that I’m not mute is gone. Still, I’m not going to talk with her. She can do whatever she wants with that.

I spent the two hours profitably. No, I’m not going to delete my character. It’s my family, my parents, my house, my city, my village. I’m going to fight for my place in the world. I got to Hell, so I can get back, and they’re not the only ones who can kill. Until Level 5, I won’t get debuffs for not eating, and I won’t die of hunger. What I can do is keep progressing. I have books, time, and desire; I’ll find a way and build myself an advantage. And then I’ll avenge myself.

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 421)

82/200

Resistance to physical damage +0.02%

Physical damage ignored up to 442/second

Resistance to mental damage +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 2/second

Survivability +1

That’s new. So, my mental body takes part of the damage. The most important part is that everything improves: my main and additional attributes, my skills, and my resistance.

You got a debuff: Astral anchor

Effect: You can no longer go farther than 30 meters away from where you currently are.

Duration: 6 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds… 58… 57…

Vaalsie’s making himself heard again. That’s fine though. I’m not in a hurry. Hell can wait for the great Vaalsie. I won’t be going anywhere until I can move around freely, and I’ll be leveling-up everything I can.

One thing I don’t like is how easy it would be for someone to notice and kill me. I look around, noticing a lone cliff with a convenient overhang. As I walk over, I notice that I’m leaving tracks in the ash. Thanks for that, father! I brush them out. Then, directly under the overhang, I dig a hole for myself and sit down in the lotus pose, scattering some ash on my head, too. My left arm is pinned to my body under my shirt, enabling me to continually heal myself.

All that’s visible above the surface is my eyes. I just have to avoid suffocating.

Camoflage +230

I’m the king of camouflage! It’ll be hard to see me under all the ash in the Fields of Ash.

And I’m just in time. Two enormous Level 213 gargoyles fly down onto the cliff I’m hiding under.

“Harol api, gorum ehl ishvan.”

“Gul Haros tush hek, zumo aprem.”

“Ushral.”

Knowledge area: Demon tongue +0.001%

The more often you hear and repeat languages you don’t know, the faster you learn them.

So, that’s how that works! Okay, I’m going to repeat everything they say until they fly away.

The first intelligent creatures appear on the horizon—a whole squad of demons—and start scanning the heaps of ash. It’s a good thing I got myself covered up. Then, a wave of fear hits me.

First, I see the ash heaving as if someone’s crawling under it, and then I see the demon himself.

Demons, Scavenger Worms, Level 117

It’s terrifying to watch as the worms crawl by just two meters away. All kinds of creatures at lots of different levels are out there looking for anything they can find. For four hours, they just cast a good hundred spells before jabbing their weapons into the ash. The whole time, I listen to the two gargoyles sitting above me. The more I hear, the more I understand. I start to pick out more phrases; the capsule must be automatically translating the words I’ve learned.

Finally, they fly away.

The squad of ten demons remains, however. Then, there are the two worms, four minotaurs, three imps, and one demon-possessed creature with a blindfold over his eyes.

Demons, Hell Wailer, Level 172

Judging by the level, he’s in charge, and the worst part is that he was constantly sniffing. Sometimes, he gets particularly close, causing my heart to drop into my stomach.

You got a debuff: Veil of darkness

Effect: Complete loss of vision.

Duration: 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

This is my worst day yet in Project Chrysalis. The hair on my head stands up, I’m sweating profusely, and sometimes it seems like the Wailer is practically stepping on my head. I hear him sniffing. My whole body senses where the worms are crawling through the ash, where the ash is compacted under the minotaurs’ hooves. I start clearly hearing everything the demons are saying, even when they’re far off.

New ability: Imp eye

Imps don’t have eyes. They see the world with their skin and catch sound waves from up to one hundred meters away.

I’m only too happy to get any new ability that boosts my chances of survival. And it really does let me hear everything a hundred meters away and closer so long as there isn’t a barrier between me and the sound. In that case, it’s harder to hear. My perception reaches out for about thirty meters. It’s actually a good thing that I’m temporarily blind. My head spins a little, and just twelve hours later, I start to control the ability. I just have to concentrate on what I can hear or feel in order to get a better picture of where and how far away my opponent is.

The psychologist decided to start punishing me. Every day, she summons me to a virtual space. I sit in the corner and think about whatever I want. Just for kicks and giggles, I turn on my sound one day to hear her playing the piano. I don’t know the song, but it sounds nice. She plays for the whole two hours.

***

Eliza was sitting at the desk in her virtual space. Moro, her ArtIn, also had access, so he was able to keep her informed of changes in the boy’s behavior.

“Miss Donovan, he just activated the audio channel.”

“Thanks.”

Elizabeth was talking with Moro on a different channel, so Anji couldn’t hear them.

“The sensors say he’s sitting with his eyes closed and listening to the music. He isn’t moving or smiling. I’d call his emotional field enjoyment.”

“Okay, so he likes the music. Let him listen.”

Anji sat in his corner, still motionless. The recordings from his capsule showed that he was suffering physically every day. First, his father threw him into the lake, and he didn’t know how to swim. On the second day, he just about lost a hand to a trap. After that, it was battles in the arena, days of getting beaten, and getting chased around the village by the dogs for three days, occasionally fighting off their attacks. He spent a whole week fighting the dogs in the back yard. It was hard to watch them rip chunks of flesh off the boy, though the wounds closed almost instantly. The worst was that his virtual father encouraged this kind of behavior. Just like the game panel, the psychologist didn’t have access to the audio track. Lunar law forbade that because it was interfering with game process, which is why she couldn’t have it. For the past three days, the boy had been lying on some kind of floor without moving as someone prowled around, and lately, the screen had just been black.

When she sent a query to Lunar about the cruelty of Anji’s virtual parents, she got a simple reply: In-game parents are tuned to meet the desires, needs, and emotions of the player, doing what they can to encourage the player’s own inclinations. In other words, Anji actually wanted what was going on.

***

The third time I show up in the Fields of Ash, I’m convinced that I’ll be appearing where I left my character while I was in Hell. I don’t feel anything, just going back to continually healing myself. My blindness scares me with the unknown, though there isn’t anything out there besides lava a long way off. Besides that, there aren’t any sounds nearby, so I don’t feel afraid.

You got a debuff: Universal weakness

Effect: 50% cut to all your main attributes, skills, and resistances.

Duration: 23 hours, 59 minutes, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

As soon as I get my vision back, Vaalsie hits me with another buff. There’s no time to look around. I’m too worried about whether I’ll be able to survive in such an aggressive environment.

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 317)

82/200

Resistance to physical damage: +0.02%

Physical damage ignored up to 634/second

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 62/second

Survivability +1

Weak healing! Weak healing! I’m so tired of that miserable old idiot.

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 317)

84/200

That really scared me.

Yesterday, I noticed something surprising: continuous damage is always at least a quarter mental. My physical resistance stopped growing, though my mental resistance is catching up. Three days of constant healing has boosted my intellect to 45, too. At this point, I’m healing exactly the same amount of health as I lose, and the regeneration from my survivability is kicking in. Take that, Vaalsie! I wonder what else he’s going to do to me. Complete paralysis? No, he can’t do that. It would break human rights laws. Anyway, I have another day in front of me.

It’s a good thing I didn’t jump when the veil of darkness fell away. The worms had done a lot to level-up my perception over the three days. In the corner of my eye, I notice something on the edge of the cliff. It’s a good thing I’m used to lying down, otherwise I would be jumping up in terror.

What is that?

Demon, Harol, Level 250

He is using something like natural camouflage to blend into the cliff. Long red whiskers flick around, though the wind isn’t that stiff. His multifaceted eyes look around without blinking, and his body is large, similar to a lizard’s, only with wings like a fly.

When I read his name, I realize what’s probably going on. When the demons didn’t find anything, they sent that Harol here as the one to raise the false alarm. The search party had a hard time understanding him, too.

I lie here healing myself for another day. Sometimes, the demon flies around above where I am before alighting on the cliff and going back to sitting motionless. He must have nerves of steel to be able to just sit there like that. I’m an exception. Healing and reading the logs keeps me busy. When I’m done, I just read them again. Every time I do, there are fewer words I don’t know as the program translates them for me. When I’m done, I read over what I have.

Normal demons chatter constantly, while their commanders are generally quiet. It turns out that the Fields of Ash are just the threshold leading to the first circle of Hell. Once you get past them, you’re in Limbo, a place where minor sinners have to deal with their pangs of conscience. The souls sent here are doomed to constant suffering, and the castle of the local ruler creates an aura of pain and torment by using the energy it gets from the souls there. That aura is what does the constant damage.

The first circle of Hell is the largest, with all subsequent circles becoming sequentially smaller. The worst part is the aura created by the fortresses in the lower circles - it’s much stronger than the one here. There are auras of fire, ice, disease, paralysis, death, terror, and even parasites and stench. These spawn monsters right from the earth. The fields of ash separate the demon world from the misty shroud, on the other side of which are the Gray Lands. None of the devils have ever so much as approached the shroud.

The demons found strong distortions in the local magic field and sent four squads to check it out. Without finding anything after a check of everything within a hundred kilometers from the point of entry, three squads left the Fields of Ash. The fourth spent another two days keeping an eye out before leaving, as well. Harol was sentenced to five days here as punishment for the false alarm.

Things are starting to get a little boring - the game, then two hours with the psychologist, then my studies. Eight days of that! I haven’t even had to heal the last two. Today, Harol is supposed to leave, which means I’ll be able to leave, too. Vaalsie turned out to be quite the bastard. For every visit to the psychologist, I get a new debuff: lame, deaf, mute. I’ll get something new today.

Harol flies off. The whole time he was here, I didn’t hear so much as a sound from him.

I pull myself out of the ash and look around. My kid clothes have been completely eaten away, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. It’s white, and I can’t take it off or do anything to it until I turn eighteen. My body has turned gray, even my hair.

I need to do some leveling-up, and I need information, too. I have a ton of strength and health.

“Attribute window.”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 20

Agility: 20

Stamina: 68

Intellect: 58

Wisdom: 45

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 20

Athleticism: 20

Morale: 40

Survivability: 60

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 10 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 50 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 450 (wisdom*10)

Health: 680 (stamina*10)

Strength: 680 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 600/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 400/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 200/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 12 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 2.51% (damage ignored: up to 874/second)

Poison: 1.27% (damage ignored: up to 211/second)

Mental damage: 0.65% (damage ignored: up to 125/second)

Skills

Cooking: 25

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-holding: 5

Stealth: 25

Life Magic: 74

Mind Magic: 25

Space Magic: 8

Earth Magic: 25

Water Magic: 1

Fire Magic: 25

Air Magic: 25

Light Magic: 6

Dark Magic: 25

Meditation: 34

Hand-to-hand combat: 25

Perception: 45

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 23

Blacksmith: 1

Carpenter: 16

Look at me! I should be a doctor! My 74 Life Magic is impressive, to say the least. On the other hand, the fact that I’m weak and can’t run is bad. I’ll use the overload mechanics for now, and take care of that later. I need a map. These are the circles of Hell, so you must be able to run along the Fields of Ash in either direction and end up back where you started. Like Galboa said before getting started with a big job, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. It’s going to be a little step for the new me, but a big step for the old me.

An hour later, I’m just about able to run. A day later, I’m running without a problem. The map shows that I’ve only covered a small part of the circle, and keeping straight ahead is starting to get boring. I turn to walk along the shroud and notice all the different forms it takes. Sometimes, shapes flit across, and one time I get the feeling someone’s looking at me. I decide to see what’s on the other side.

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 125)

45/720

Resistance to mental damage: +0.02%

Mental damage ignored up to 131/second

Nothing but mental damage! That was…awful. I saw the suffering souls, heard their cries, felt their pain and anguish, looked into their empty eye sockets. I was bathed in terror, although, it was less a feeling, and more, a creature living in the haze. In that second, I didn’t see it, though I understood perfectly well that it was there as a creation of that crazy world. I only survive because I trip and fall, only too happy to do so.

Wait a second. If I’m in the Fields of Ash, where everything is destroyed, what did I trip over? It turns out to be a bone, the thigh bone of an adult human, whittled down on one end to a point. I’m afraid to pick it up, but father teaches me what I can do with it. I need weight, too.

Throwing bone

???

Damage: ???

???

???

I look, but there’s nothing besides the bone, so I stop to think. The fields of ash are bereft of life, with nobody here but me, and I really need protection from mental damage. It’s the border, the perfect spot to work on my resistance.

I don’t make the same mistake twice, however. Instead, I dig up the ash right next to the shroud, leaving just my right hand for me to lean on. I stick my left hand against my body to heal myself. With that done, I get to work.

It’s brutal, but I quickly get used to it. With the huge amounts of damage I’m taking, my resistance grows by leaps and bounds: one second of damage, five seconds of healing. Rinse and repeat.

As my resistance grows, the landscape changes. New things start to appear. I see crying children, hanged men, talking heads. I watch as people die in their beds. I see them burned alive. The picture becomes worse and worse, and it starts to get into my head.

Just about forgot to pull my hand back.

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 256)

20/780

Death…

I see it in the shroud: a black robe blown in the breeze, a scythe on its right shoulder. There’s no face, just two green flames where the eyes should be. A couple of seconds later, there comes a howl like a thousand voices talking in a whisper to fill the air. Death radiates waves of monstrous power. When they break over me, they sweep away the ash, leaving me simply sitting in my meditation pose.

All I feel is the power coming from death.

Its eye’s flare, the blade of the scythe blood-red and glowing. Death sits down right across from me and holds out a hand to where I’ve been touching the shroud.

I stare into the empty eye sockets and think to myself. There it is, my chance at a normal life. I could die here and go back to my parents. Although, I wouldn’t be their child… No.

“Not yet” is all I can say.

Death straightens up and walks off along the shroud. Two creatures made completely of darkness follow it, and I’m surprised to see that one is the terror I’ve been feeling. I can tell from the sensation in my soul. The second is despair, though I only find that out when I check out my active effects.

Debuff: Aura of Lord Terror

Effect: You feel the terror of inevitable death.

Duration: 10 minutes, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

Debuff: Aura of Lord Despair

Effect: You feel the despair of inevitable death.

Duration: 10 minutes, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

Death takes five steps, stops, looks back at me, and continues walking. I glance up at the dark, quivering haze above me. There are two ashen sparks staring at me - it’s alive.

You got a debuff: Aura of Lord Fear

Effect: You feel the fear of inevitable death.

Duration: 10 minute, 59 seconds... 58... 57…

The haze rolls up, taking the form of a clump of darkness with ashen eyes, and follows its master. This is terrifying! Death, with its gloomy companions, moves in the shroud as an ethereal creature ruling the earth.

Resistance to mental damage: +1.02%

Mental damage ignored up to 455/seconds

Gift received: Meeting deferred

You personally saw Death and its three companions, Terror, Fear, and Despair, and stayed this side of the grave. When you die permanently, Death will take your soul to the Land of the Dead.

What? Crazy! I jump up and run away from the shroud, needing no second warning. I’m never going back there! At least, not right now. It’s a good thing I ran off without thinking, too, since ten minutes later I see that. I dig myself a hiding place as fast as I can.

Camouflage: +200

An entire armada of demons is flying, running, and crawling toward the spot where I met Death. Three minutes later, they’re all there. Damn it, I left tracks!

I jump up and keep running. What’s the point of hiding? They would just follow my tracks and find me. Two minutes later, they’ve almost caught up. Monsters like that love people, and, as I hear their shouts to stop and the threats they’re hurling at me, I duck into where none of them will follow: the shroud.

Yes, it’s a risk, but it’s my only chance at survival.

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 455)

335/780

Weak healing!

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 455)

334/780

Weak healing

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 455)

333/780

Weak healing!

Damage taken: 800 (ignored: 455)

334/780

Got it! I can live in the shroud. Still, there’s fear and horror all around, along with earth under my feet. I run along the border of the shroud and see everything that’s happening in the Fields of Ash. The demons are circling, but I don’t run out. My meeting with Death did a lot to boost my mental resistance, so I can stay in the shroud so long as I continuously heal myself. It’s just a shame that my survivability isn’t high enough yet. Really, I could have come here earlier. It was just that I didn’t know what was here, and so I stayed over in those lifeless lands. I could last here a whole two seconds!

I continue running, a hand on my chest to heal away. Continuous healing is looking to become a habit, and I pick everything up as I run. I need an overload to boost my strength. Visibility is down to a meter.

Ten minutes later, a wave of fear rolls over me, and I run out of the shroud. There it is again.

Companion of Death, Absolute Fear, ???

It’s the amorphous haze with the ashen eyes, and it glances at me before flying away.

Resistance to mental damage: +0.22%

Mental damage ignored up to 603/second

His aura alone is enough for me to change my mind about staying in the shroud forever. It’s a good thing Death didn’t use its aura. I run on, trying to get as far away from the demons as I can. The whole time, I’m running through the Fields of Ash, but then I duck into the shroud until Terror sniffs me out an hour later. I notice him much later than he spots me, and it’s a miracle I escape. When I leap out of the shroud, he’s an arm’s-length away.

The shroud isn’t doing any more damage to me, though I have no desire to go deeper into it. I can just tell that I’m not ready. For some reason, I can tell that things are so bad that I’ll die if I head in. An unpleasant premonition hits me when I think about running in that direction.

Two weeks later, I’ve covered a quarter of the first circle of Hell. That’s even taking into consideration the fact that I’m running faster and faster.

“Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 200

Agility: 177

Stamina: 92

Intellect: 102

Wisdom: 99

Available attribute points: 0

…

It looks like I’ve found out what the limiter is. My strength won’t go past 200 even though I was running with an enormous rock in my arms to hit 90% overload. It turns out that you can’t put overly large items in your inventory.

From the logs:

New world structure: 5th level

Demonification: 0.01%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Fifth Sequence Limiter activated

Moving between structures multiplies or divides what you can do by ten. After the ritual, my limiter was replaced with the fifth sequence, which tells me that the Project Chrysalis world is 4th level, while Hell is 5th level. The limiter means that I can get my main and additional attributes up to 200, and my skills up to 250. But what is demonification? It hasn’t grown at all. I can’t tell what it does for me.

I can boost my healing and resistance to fire. There aren’t any other options right now. I need controlled damage to work on my stamina and Life Magic. Logically speaking, the farther down I go, the worse the continuous damage will be. What’s down there in the ninth circle? The exit, I hope. If that’s true, I need to make sure I don’t die the second I step into the aggressive environment. I need resistance to fire, cold, and lightning. I’m not sure what I’ll do with disease, parasites, or stench, but I’ll see when the time comes. They all impact the body, so I need to max out my physical resistance. The auras of Death, Fear, Terror, and Despair work on the mental body, so I’ll be able to resist them.

As I think about all that, I’m reminded of space cockroaches who can survive even in a reactor room. I can just imagine the face of the engineer when one of those little buggers crawls out of the nuclear core. The radiation is enough to melt your skin, though that thought is just my tendency to go looking for problems kicking in.

***

Eliza was relaxing in her chair. She’d just finished a meeting of all the psychologists at the station working with the younger generation, her group of kids in the high-risk category. Even in that group, Anji… Well, he stood out. He was mature, but he was a child. He was working, but he lived in the orphanage. He could talk, but he didn’t. And people are built to develop by talking.

Anji’s thirst for pain and self-torture more than made sense, though the last two weeks of recordings from Project Chrysalis were enough to make even Eliza feel queasy. The monotonous landscape, the dark scenes, the wall of haze…

Then, Eliza saw something she hadn’t noticed before. Anji didn’t show the entire spectrum of emotions, just your basic negative ones like rage, fear, and annoyance. She’d never seen him express happiness, love, or sympathy. If she was right, the boy was pathological, though that didn’t explain his choice not to talk. There was, however, a complex test she could use to confirm her guess. At his young age, they hand children off to be treated. She just didn’t want him to grow up a psychopath.

***

Today, I got to see my two least favorite people. A meeting with one meant problems with the other. Vaalsie is standing next to Eliza alongside my capsule.

“Miss Eliza is going to take you to the medical center for some tests. Your punishment will be lifted during that time, though any attempt to disobey her will only result in me making it worse. All right, go with Miss Eliza.”

Eliza takes me to the parking area in front of the orphanage, where there’s already an aerocar waiting. None of the kids at the orphanage have ever seen anything like that, something driven by a human. That made sense, though as the few drivers around here are just pilots. The car itself is great, too. I’ve never seen anything like it, not even on the station’s sixth level.

“Hobs Hospital, third level. Child diagnostics.”

“Got it, Miss Donovan.”

I’ve never flown in an aerocar, so I enjoy the trip, though Miss Eliza is on edge. You can’t tell by how she looks, but I’m starting to notice when people are going through internal turmoil.

The hospital is beautiful. We arrive at a level where it’s normal for there to be a lot of people, and some doctors meet us at the entrance to usher us into a room. Then, they put me in a chair and make me put something with sensors on my head. It looks like a crown. But seeing it reminds me of the crown Rachel was wearing that fateful night, and I wouldn’t touch it if I had my druthers. Sadly, nobody asks me.

After that, nobody needs me to do anything except look at pictures.

“Miss Donovan, it’ll take thirty minutes to create a baseline, and another three hours for a full analysis.”

“All right. I’ll go sit in the waiting room.”

She leaves me with the men in the room, and it gets boring quickly. They don’t show anything interesting, and I already know what they’re going to do. I went through a similar test last year when my psychologists wanted to see how angry and happy I get. That was when I learned about deviations from the psychological norm, too. So, Eliza thinks I’m psycho? Screw her. I don’t think I am, and I don’t care what she thinks.

Some moments do turn out to be interesting. There are pictures of Rachel, Galboa, Finx, Vaalsie, and Eliza herself. The scenes with blood are disgusting, but it’s hard to be afraid of things like that when you’ve seen what’s in the shroud like I have.

***

The doctors said the boy was consciously limiting the emotions he displays. He wasn’t a psychopath, meaning that he was looking for pain as compensation for something. They finished the test, and Anji just gave Eliza a grunt and an arrogant look when she met him in the hallway. It was like he knew all along and was shocked by how ridiculous the whole thing was.

For all the fighting, Anji got more hours of studies, and he used them to sleep or learn. A normal boy might have had a problem losing his free time and friends, chatting with a psychologist, and fighting all the time, but Anji just slept peacefully during study time and went back to the game for some more pain and suffering. That was the path he had chosen.

***

I leave the Fields of Ash and head toward the rivers of lava. Even from a good hundred meters away, I’m engulfed in their heat. Perfect! Another ten steps, and…

Damage taken: 50 (ignored: 0)

870/920

Another couple of steps.

Damage taken: 150 (ignored: 0)

736/920

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 12/second

There it is. Lava is melted rock, with a temperature between 500 and 1200 degrees. The heat can project a long way, and the closer I get, the more thermal damage I take. Even the 10% of the pain I get is excruciating! It’s like my skin is on fire, and the feeling only intensifies as I step closer. I feel it all over my body and take two more steps forward.

Damage taken: 250 (ignored: 12)

508/920

My survivability restores 17 health per second. I can go farther.

Damage taken: 325 (ignored: 12)

217/920

Weak healing! And another couple steps.

Damage taken: 405 (ignored: 12)

515/920

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 36/second

My Life Magic is all the way up to 112, meaning that healing spells are 112% more effective. Weak healing starts at 1030, so each time I cast it now, I get 2183 health. I don’t even have that much to begin with! It’s even become so second nature that I just think, and my left hand starts doing its job. I can feel the magic power concentrating in my palm.

I forgot one important thing: monsters spawn right out of the ground in this world.

An imp crawls up out of the lava and stares at me. Like an idiot, I’m staring at my effect panel.

Demons, Imp, Level 102

“Human me-eat!” he crows before rushing at me.

Damage taken: 250 (ignored: 834)

338/920

I feel no fear. He can’t kill me. For a full minute, he scratches, bites, and tries to tear at my flesh. The skin doesn’t budge, however, and he can’t do anything. The only damage I’m taking is from fire. I ignore two critical hits, one to the eye and another to the neck, though I almost pay for the error with my life. Some parts of my body only partially ignore damage. It’s a good thing I’m pretty strong.

Taking about ten steps backward, I kill him. He’s a little guy, a head smaller than me, and I’m a kid. As we battle, I realize that imps have half of their attributes in strength and the other half distributed evenly between agility and stamina. In a word, they aren’t hard to kill. They use their claw and two rows of very sharp teeth, they can fly, and they have complete immunity to fire.

From the imp, I get wings and a horn. That’s probably the first food I’ve seen in Hell. Father and I ate raw fish in the boat, and the wings taste something like that, just juicier. The blood is delicious.

You ate imp wings

Strength: +26

Agility: +17

Duration: 59 minutes, 59 seconds

Demonification: 0.2%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Ah-ha, got it. So, I need to eat demons in order to…become one? I don’t feel any revulsion, and am actually kind of intrigued. Let’s do this!

But I’m still eating raw wings, and I can’t boil them. What about smoking or drying them?

Over the next three hours, I eat thirty imps, building my resistance to fire in parallel. The last imps I eat don’t boost my demonification, however. I focus on my fire resistance, gradually moving closer and taking more damage.

Three days later, I’ve figured it out: I can’t boost my demonification more than 1% per day. Each imp I eat gives me another 0.1%.

In a week, I can get just ten meters from the lava. Any closer, and the heat is too much for me.

Damage taken: 4100 (ignored: 2207)

77/1970

Weak healing! Better not go any closer. The fire is bewitching, the flow of lava and puffs of gas. Oh, and a new imp! I step back to a safe distance, kill him, and enjoy a couple of wings.

Demonification: 10%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Passive ability unlocked: Dual consciousness

You can now think and do two things at once.

Note: If you accept this ability, you will lose 100 intellect and wisdom. Those points will go toward creating your mental body and the energy channels your second stream of consciousness needs.

Accept: Yes/No

I’ve only ever read about things like this. There was something about it in the book on the mental body, something about how superior mages and all grand masters can use several spells at once. It didn’t say anything about how they achieved the ability, however. But I found a way. Two hundred attribute points is forty levels, but that dual consciousness is only available to superior mages. In that same book, I read about how Level 200 mages enjoy an enhanced ability to work with their energy channels. That’s the fifth level of magical mastery or something like that. But whatever - they lose levels, and I’m just losing intellect and wisdom. My limit is 200, so I’d be fine with making eleven additional streams of consciousness. But do I need it? Eh, whatever, I want to see how it works anyway.

Accept!

Oh, right, my healing isn’t as effective now. First, I want to see what I have.

“Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 200

Agility: 179

Stamina: 197

Intellect: 45

Wisdom: 24

Available attribute points: 0

…

Weak healing is so much weaker now. Did I really used to be like this? All it heals is 1127 health, though my survivability cheers me up: 30 health a second. I can completely heal once a minute without even touching my healing. Okay, let’s try my two streams of consciousness.

It isn’t that simple. Using two different spells at once takes incredible focus, though doubling up on one spell is easier. I’m going to have to practice. I want to max out my healing before I really start experimenting.

Healing with both streams, I give something a try.

Damage taken: 4100 (ignored: 2207)

66/1970

Weak healing! All I have to do now is think about it. I don’t even have to cast the spell with my hand. I concentrate on healing one part of my body and watch it glow, my hands now free. Getting into a battle stance, I tense up, move my center of gravity, and throw a strike. I throw another one.

Damage taken: 4100 (ignored: 2207)

107/1970

I just about missed that, but it’s possible. My hands are free to fight with. I’m faster, too, especially since I no longer have to point at the body part I want to heal. You can’t really tell when I’m fighting imps, but it’s glorious when my muscles fill with blood, my ligaments tense up, I feel the power of my blows, and my fist cuts through the hot air. I need to train, remember everything father taught me, remember everything Finx taught me… Oh, that hurts. Galboa, father… How are they? People are so weak…

A month later…

It took me a whole month to make it the last five steps to the lava. A few times, I was a hair’s breadth away from death, though I used one weak healing as my main weapon and another as a backup. When the situation gets out of control, I activate the second spell with a half-second delay. I was right: it just took skill and focus.

Demonification: 30%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Passive ability unlocked: Quadruple consciousness

The next imp I eat gives me a fourth stream of consciousness, though my intellect and wisdom have been 200 for a while now. I got what I was looking for. Ah, and there’s my lunch. Another imp comes hurrying at me.

Demonification: 40%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Passive ability unlocked: Quintuple consciousness

You can now think and do five things at once.

Note: If you accept this ability, you will lose 100 intellect and wisdom. Those points will go toward creating your mental body and the energy channels your second stream of consciousness needs.

Accept: Yes/No

Passive ability unlocked: Demon possession, Level 1

You can strengthen one part of your body by 40%. Using this ability will cost an equal amount of health and stamina.

I’m starting to like this whole becoming a demon thing. There aren’t any external changes, as far as I can tell, but I know what a demon body can do. One ritual in demonology is possession, where a demon is placed in the body of the victim and can do what it wills with it. In most cases, humans use just a tenth of the potential their musculature offers, while possessed bodies use all of it. The only problem is that broken bones and torn ligaments render the body useless all too soon. That means that I’ll be able to strengthen my whole body when I’m completely demonified, though I’ll use my health instead of my strength. But that’s for later. I have so many streams of consciousness now. I accepted the third stream, leaving me with just 100 each of intellect and wisdom, though I slowly and carefully step away and wait until one point appears for both of them. Ten minutes later, I’m the proud owner of a fourth stream of consciousness. I’m going to have to be careful now. After figuring out how to use two streams of consciousness, four is a piece of cake. They’re all focused on healing, too. One weak healing restores just 100 health each time, but four streams gives me 160 every two seconds. An hour later, I’m able to go back to the lava.

Damage taken: 53250 (ignored: 51777)

527/2000

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 51919/second

My resistance to fire is all the way up to 15.17%, but I’m still afraid to get any closer to the lava. I stop five steps away from it, sit down in my meditation pose, and hold my arms out. At that distance, it’s a minimum of 1000 damage. Theoretically, I can heal myself four times a second and keep from dying even if I go closer, though I’m wary about taking unnecessary risks after my betrayal. I only have one life.

Just for fun, I go through the loot I’ve gotten from the imps. Besides the horns and the wings, which I’m tired of eating, there are rings, pieces of skin, and several necklaces. The pile of clothes, which I don’t even look through, goes straight into my bag after I take out the rocks and other junk. I don’t know what anything besides the usual stuff is, so there is no point putting it on. Way back when, I’d put on some simple things that gave me two points for each of my attributes, though their low durability meant they quickly broke under the relentless heat. Too valuable for that… I’m better off in my impregnable underwear, covered as I am in ash and soot. My hair has lost color and turned a grayish hue.

In real life, it’s been a month since my last punishment for fighting. The guys started leaving me alone. I’ve proved myself worthy of my place in this harsh world, proved my right not to bow to anybody. Vaalsie apparently reconciled himself to the fact that I won’t be joining his collection team and won’t be talking with the psychologist. He isn’t even giving me debuffs anymore. I study for eight hours a day, which helps with the monotony. My free time is spent building myself up in Project Chrysalis. Every four hours, I log out of the game to exercise and get some food.

Time passes, and a small pantheon of young gods appears. Almost all the clans worship someone, and all the priests of the new divinities do what they can to attract NPCs.

Project Chrysalis greets me with the usual scenery.

Once, father and I went hunting at night. He told me a story about monsters and special guilds. The latter brought people together to hunt the monsters and complete special quests. Father wanted to be someone like that when he was little. I didn’t, but I want him to be happy. I wonder how father and mama are.

Damage taken: 65550 (ignored: 63733)

183/2000

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored: up to 63852/second

There’s a lot you can learn yourself. For example, there’s calculating how effective different investments are and determining when they’re worth going through with. In terms of my health, there’s nothing else for me to do here, and using clothes to boost it is pointless. Just one wrong step would mean death so, I’m going to have to find other ways to develop. I use three streams of consciousness for telekinesis, holding an enormous boulder up in the air. That does the most to boost my morale. I kill imps using my bare hands to work on that skill, finding that partially strengthening myself works wonders. I can take their heads off with a single swipe of my palm.

The hardest thing is doing several different tasks at once. Just now, two stones fell into the lava, something that happens a dozen times a day. They’re getting smaller and smaller, since the lava just melts them. Sadly, one limitation of telekinesis is that it doesn’t work on live objects, otherwise I’d be throwing fireproof imps around.

Also, I read.

Demonology turns out to be a really interesting book. The use of demons works based on Solomon seals. The stronger the creature you want to summon, the more valuable the sacrifice should be, otherwise the demon will kill you. Nobody summons the higher beings of Hell. The seals have been lost, and the sacrifices would have to be incredible. In a word, that isn’t my ticket out of here. At least, I’m not sure how it would be.

Blood magic focuses on the elements of the human body. Besides blood, you can use hair, fingernails, toenails, and bones. They’re used to establish who they belong to, look for a person based on their biological material, and temporarily amplify magic or physical skills. That last bit is especially popular among the dark mages - blood knights, vampires, and simple mages who drink the blood of intelligent beings. That’s why nobody likes that area of magic. The dark side gets colossal power, strengthening their mental body to the point that they can do amazing things. The more you work this way, however, the more of you it requires. I wonder what a knight in full armor with triple strength, agility, stamina, and speed could do. The book says that adherents to this form of magic are death machines in times of war.

Malefics work on the mental body. The stronger they are, the shorter their duration. Your mental body influences your physical body, so boosting its resistance to damage and your morale lessens the chances of getting curses and debuffs, while also blunting their effect. Some classes can remove buffs, though that’s mostly healers. Buffers work against malefics.

The book on mysticism is old and mostly philosophical. There’s some information about cults and the symbolism of the ancient gods, neither of which interests me.

Artefactorica is the science of artifact creation, and it’s related to craftsmanship. Artifactor mages are highly valued, though it’s really hard to boost that skill. The higher it gets, the more demands it places on the quality of your work. The different kinds of material all have their own nuances, too. Spells barely work on wood and bone, since they already have their own aura. But if you really want to… Gems can store mana and give you additional bonuses. Also, the quality of the material influences its durability. Then there’s the fact that artifactors can mix materials when making a single object, only enchanting it when they’re done. The creation boosts its owner’s attributes or offers some other effects depending on the spells that were cast on it. It’s a tantalizing hobby. I need to do something with all the junk from the imps, too.

Necromancy, on the other hand, is legally banned. Raising a fallen foe or summoning his soul as a ghost is a bit unethical. There are ways of attaching a summoned soul to armor that you control, though necromancers have to know chimerology if they want to create the dead, flesh horrors, or bone hounds - any undead, basically. It’s dirty, unpleasant work. On the other hand, they’re an invaluable military resource when you’re at war. The higher their intellect, the more undead they can raise and the stronger they can make them. Every undead takes mana to exist. If the level of the summoned soul or raised dead (or their intellect) exceeds that of the necromancer, they can attack him. Bone dragons are the pinnacle of the dark art.

There’s a reason that ways of working with the mental body are kept hidden. Superior mages don’t want the secrets behind their power to get out, after all. The introductory course raises mages’ energy structure to the point where they can go on from there themselves. Getting to work is actually the second level. The physical body is linked to the mental body, which is why you can accelerate metabolism and therefore boost morale. Under a certain level of stress, you’re hungry enough to eat the neighbor in an hour, and that hits you with a bunch of debuffs, exhaustion and overwork, for example.

Working with the mental body can fuse you with your element. The mages get a hybrid body that is both primary element and human, with an immunity to attacks of that type and a 100% boost to their spells. The most valuable information for me is that mages can “boost the damage they do by working more narrowly with the energy of their element.” That means that mages theoretically understand the difference in structure between various world orders.

These methods are used to create familiars, which are responsible for creating a second stream of consciousness or supporting a second spell.

There’s only one chapter devoted to working with the astral. According to the descriptions I read, the astral is a three-dimensional space which only the soul can inhabit. While there are small, closed islands of calm, they look like bubbles in what otherwise appears to be a world not unlike ours with soil, sand, water, and all the rest. Via the astral, the soul reaches other worlds or goes back to the respawn point. The farther you are from your respawn point when you die, the more time you spend there before you can respawn.

There are all different kinds of beasts in the astral, most of which are neutral. Some are aggressive, however. The astral is a world of souls, from the simplest to the most complex. Even the gods spend most of their time there, though they can also appear in the physical world. The creation of an avatar is the physical embodiment of the god’s astral projection.

Interestingly, time there is three times as slow as in game reality. I can only assume that this refers to a deeper immersion into the game. It was via the astral that I was sent to Hell, incidentally. Moving between worlds takes an incredible amount of energy, which is what the demons noticed. The funny part is that I didn’t die. When my health hit zero, my body and I were sent together to the Fields of Ash. It’s just that a portal like that takes so much energy that archmage Tiberius Sen is probably the only one who could have opened it.

It might seem like mages are all-powerful, but swordsmen give them a run for their money. With the help of alchemists and artifactors, they can do the same kinds of things: altering their body, boosting their resistance, and increasing the damage they inflict. Master swordsmen, like healers, improve their bodies to become faster, stronger, tougher.

Black obsidian daggers are the most dangerous weapons. They do incredible amounts of damage to the mental body and accompany that with long-lasting debuffs. Swordsmen are designed to kill all things living. Mages consider them worthy adversaries, and both have hidden classes that can combine areas of expertise.

The book on magic sieges is boring. In a word, mages join forces to push back on their opponent’s shields, and then create particularly powerful spells. There haven’t been that many sieges like that in the past, as they cost tons of energy, and most shields are taken down with normal spells.

Three days later, I’m still sitting next to the lava river killing imps every once in a while, only my resistance to fire isn’t going up anymore. Every new stream of consciousness lets me boost my skills faster, though the higher they go, the more often you have to use spells to keep the progress coming. I can use the stones around me as projectiles or shields to protect me from attack. There's also something in the books about how Space Magic has to do with levitation, teleportation, power hammers, shields against physical attacks, and even certain kinds of gravitational and impulse strikes. It’s a shame I can’t get to them. They’d make it easier to get to the first circle of Hell.

There’s some rule for how much mana I spend developing each area of magic and how fast my skills develop.

There’s nothing else for me to do here. I’m sick and tired of imp wings and horns, though my derivative attributes are pretty weak at the moment. If a strong enemy came at me, I might not be able to get away. Time to head back to the Fields of Ash.

I do have one terrifying idea, though it’s worth trying. Today, my demonification will hit 50%, unlocking Demon Possession and letting me strengthen two limbs. I can pick my legs and see if that boosts my running speed. By tonight, I’ll have increased my intellect and wisdom up to 100, so I’ll be able to pick up another stream of consciousness. But what magic should I work on?

“Spell book!”

Life Magic: Weak Healing

Morale Magic: Stun

Space Magic: Telekinesis

Earth Magic: Boulder

Water Magic: Ice Arrow

Fire Magic: Fire Arrow

Air Magic: Air Fist

Light Magic: Firefly

Dark Magic: Dark Arrow

Light Magic would be silly to use in my current situation. Running around Hell with a dozen fireflies? Sure, and then I’ll write I Love New York on myself in blood. The pickings aren’t that varied, I can kill anyone up to Level 150, and I’ll get something different to eat.

***

Two men sat in a café with a view of the park, coffee in hand.

“Leon, are you sure about the investments we’re making? We’ve hired practically all the players in Imir and the city is our headquarters. They’re clearing the dungeons and doing quests, and the economy is skyrocketing. Our military wing is getting better every day. But that’s going to push us into war with the other alliances, and maybe even countries. We’re not ready for that yet.”

“Don’t forget that I’m a god. I’m already giving big bonuses to the players who select me as their patron, our expenses are still less than our income, and we have several campaigns going to attract the faithful. I need fighting power so I can get involved in the war. And what I’m investing in is attracting people. Incidentally, we’ve recouped everything we invested previous to this. We’re processing all the items brought to the altar, and we’re going to sell them at the auction. The more territory we have, the more raw materials we’ll have under our control.”

“Okay, so you’re gunning for a war, and you want to participate in it personally. But do you realize that there are already ten gods in the small pantheon? Our source leaked the information to everyone he could. Who was he even?”

Leon smiled with satisfaction.

“A pilot. He was flying between us and Lunar when he heard a conversation about creating a god over the speaker. Nobody will be finding him, even our own security people.”

“Got it.”

“Merlen, relax. You’re our financial director and the clan treasurer, but you’re too cautious sometimes. None of the gods is going to attack us. The old ones don’t care, and the young ones aren’t strong enough. Or is it your daughter you’re worried about?”

Merlen nodded.

“Ah, kids, always worried about growing up. Are you aware that she’s only trying to get close to you so she can use you?” Again, a nod, though more embarrassed this time. “The mistakes of youth? She knows very well that she’s just using you. Still, I’ll keep my word. The girl did a good job bringing NPCs into the fold, and then she went out to heal people, boost the crops, and all that. Really, quite the kid. We have a…project…in Project Chrysalis. She’ll be part of the strike force.”

“That serious?”

“Even my status as a god pales in comparison.”

Merlen threw up his arms. “Oh, come on, what do you have going on?”

The men laughed. For the next month, neither of them spent much time outside Project Chrysalis, and their relationship gradually becomes a friendship. There was lots to do, lots of money to make and spend, and lots of fun to have. The great games of great men are all about strength, power, and money.

***

I don’t have enough agility to run easily with the extra power in my legs. My seven-meter strides cheer me up though; I’m moving twice as fast as usual. Surrounding me are five magic fireflies attracting flying demons, ensuring that my rations now include manticores and other creatures. The strongest enemy I’ve had to face turns out to be Level 173, one of those manticores. It took me a long time to kill it, and I was only able to by using magic and running away. It was unable to do the same. When it tried, I chased it down and had a bunch of fun with the body.

The stamps used by demonologists, necromancers, and blood mages are all written using symbols, and there are twenty-three in total. Presumably, that’s the alphabet of true mages. All three disciplines are types of ritual magic, and I wonder if I can raise a manticore. It works.

Necromancy: +1

Ritual magic: +1

Blood magic: +1

I draw out the pentagram used to raise the undead with the blood of the victim. It’s a good thing the gods can’t see me, otherwise I’d probably spoil my karma. Anyway, I’m able to raise the manticore, but killing it turns out to be much harder. Even if it is slower, its strength and stamina are much higher. I’m forced to throw rocks at it, though that boosts my Earth Magic. At least, the serious injuries the beast sustained before it died resulted in a bunch of debuffs. I use Earth Magic again, though I don’t get any experience. Looks like I can only do that once per opponent.

The whole day is spent running around the Fields of Ash with my legs buffed. As soon as I see an enemy, I start training my ordinary magic, then my ritual magic, then my necromancy, and finally my ordinary magic once again. It’s perfect! It even turns out that you can work on your Fire Magic by burning the remains of your enemies’ bodies. Cool! If you don’t, they disappear in an hour.

My speed grows quickly, the added boost for my legs letting me run much faster than the ordinary limit. My athleticism improves rapidly, too. I move in zigzags, as that makes things easier when I’m fighting pairs of flying demons. I shoot one down, then shoot down the other, both using magic. Next, it’s time for necromancy. Dark magic is so much fun! Especially when you’re in Hell. And even more when you’re in Hell with nothing better to do.

For two weeks, I run as fast as I can, killing everything attracted by the light of my magic torches. Then, I go to work on their unfortunate bodies and kill them again. It’s only then that they find peace. Ritual magic includes a ceremony, though you can do necromancy without drawing seals. Necromancers have spells and special daggers you can use to raise people. I decide to make one of the daggers.

When items are broken, they break down into the materials that were used to make them. I found that out when I was working on fire resistance. And even if I can’t forge anything yet, I can definitely smelt metal. Then, I can use telekinesis to form it into the shape I want. The hot metal takes on the shape of a long blade.

Linprin dagger

A dagger made by a human without touching tools. It would be a surprise if anyone could use it to kill.

Physical damage: 20-25

Durability: 770/1000

I don’t need much, just a blade. After adding the runes, I activate them with mana.

Linprin ritual dagger

A dagger set with raising the dead runes.

Physical damage: 20-25

Durability: 770/1000

That abuse of the art of smithing earns me a point for my blacksmith profession and another for my blood magic. I now have a dagger I can use to raise the dead, so I’ll be able to do exactly that with one cut to their body once I get to a certain necromancy level.

I’m almost to the end of my run. In three days, I’ll be back where I started.

Three days later…

I’m getting tired of the Fields of Ash.

It turns out that you can combine attack spells to intensify the effect when they’re the same type. You can feel the power even without magic vision, though I haven’t been able to see exactly how much damage I’m doing. It’s definitely less than eight separate spells, though I’m doing all of it at once. A great way to break through the defenses of someone with strong resistance. Today, I’ll pick up my ninth stream of consciousness and get to 80% demonification. My skin turns darker when I add power to my body.

Demonification: 80%

Your soul is tied to this world, and your flesh is restructuring to match the new world order.

Passive ability unlocked: Nonuple consciousness

You can now think and do nine things at once.

Note: If you accept this ability, you will lose 100 intellect and wisdom. Those points will go toward creating your mental body and the energy channels your ninth stream of consciousness needs.

Accept: Yes/No

Passive ability unlocked: Demon possession, Level 5

You can strengthen five parts of your body by 80%. Using this ability will cost an equal amount of health and stamina.

Obviously, I accept the new stream of consciousness. It makes fighting so easy, and my demon possession is crazy. I run about ten meters a second, I can jump fifteen meters, and I can push that to a whole forty if I take a running start. What a rush! Nobody can catch me.

I’ve been in Hell for three months. And I’ve learned so much! Although…I so want to see father, eat some of mama’s fish soup and fish pie, and sit next to the fire in the back yard. But I have to keep going toward the first circle of Hell. Somewhere, there’s a descent down to the lower levels, and the fortresses belonging to the rulers of the realm are there, too. Lots of the demons around them are much stronger than the annoyances I’ve been dealing with in the Fields of Ash.

There’s no point working on my professions, though I definitely need to max out my magic skills. I’ll need stealth, so I need it to be as high as it will go, otherwise I’ll be caught by the first patrol that happens by. There are twenty more days to go until I’ll be completely demonified. In that time, I need to get everything done, and then I’ll get a move on it.

Even in Hell, you can make your own little hell for the demons there. I need to boost my mind magic.

Spell: Stun

Description: Stuns victims with low mental resistance. Your intellect determines whether you will successfully stun them.

Effect: Stun for 3 seconds

Mana: 10

I stun four imps, not letting any of them get close to me. Then, I give one a merciless beatdown before healing him. I keep that up for twelve hours straight. Even I have a conscience though. They die quickly, and I find others.

There’s more time for the game. I finished my exams for the year. There haven’t been any fights, so I have sixteen hours a day now.

A week later, I’m stunning six imps at a time, standing behind them in stealth mode. A seventh appears every three minutes. They get an easy death, a resurrection, another death, and the fire. Next! It’s kind of a shame to throw out simple things without attribute bonuses, so I just break them down and collect the metal. Everything weighs less that way. I can fit up to a hundred kilograms in my bag, and I need to get all the way to the ninth circle of Hell. Breaking down cheap items is the only option I have.

Oh, and there’s the next imp!

My stealth jumps up quickly, leaving me invisible to six imps as I kill everyone else who shows up. The area around me is covered in blood, which I use as part of the ritual to raise the dead. It disappears after twenty-four hours. I have to keep going, constantly changing my experiments, and I’ve taken to going everywhere in stealth mode. I can still make a good five meters a second. Boosting it is a great idea.

Three weeks go by.

Demonification: 100%

Your mental and physical bodies have completely restructured to match this world’s order.

Passive ability unlocked: Undecuple consciousness

You can no longer unlock any more streams of consciousness.

Note: If you accept this ability, you will lose 100 intellect and wisdom. Those points will go toward creating your mental body and the energy channels your eleventh stream of consciousness needs.

Accept: Yes/No

Passive ability unlocked: Demon possession, complete

You can select a demon appearance. Demons look the way they do based on how they behaved in life. Using this ability no longer costs health.

Now that I’m completely demonified and empowered, my skin has become ashen white, and there’s a bone mask with a barely-visible nose in place of my face. I have no mouth, and tiny slits where my eyes should be. Somehow, I can breathe, though I feel creeped out. All of my underwear, my hair, my fingernails, my toenails, and my sexual markers are gone. My ears stick out and are covered with a whitish film, the same that covers the rest of me. Only my hands are covered in blood.

I squeeze a fist and memorize the feeling. It’s like my hand is wearing a glove. The imp eye and eleven streams of consciousness are perfect for my new look. I feel better, too, my muscles looser and a certain lightness flooding my body. When I boost my body, my skin still gets darker. I wish I had a mirror. I must look terrifying.

The next five days are spent running up my intellect and wisdom to a hundred. The imps defend themselves heroically, but they don’t stand a chance. I also work on my smithing by making throwing spikes. I can’t do much else without tools. The spikes are all used in rituals, seeing as how I have nothing better to do than kill the creatures around me.

Some of the rings I destroy give me gems, and I just stick them in the glowing spikes. As soon as they cool off, I add a destruction rune with my blood. The second set of ten becomes vampires. The third and fourth are for healing. One kills, the other sucks health and gives it to me, and the third heals. I read about that in one of the books, where a blood magic ritual partially combines magic and a sacrifice. The mage heals the victim, prolonging their suffering, and gives mana in exchange for health. The book recommended using daggers, though I can’t make them.

I’m finally ready to head down. On the way, I’m supposed to come across the fortress of the local lord. It creates the aura I no longer pay attention to, though its power should be magnified in its immediate vicinity. These are the moments I prepared the spikes for.

After an eighteen-hour run in stealth mode toward the center of the circle, I’ve picked up some interesting information. The closer I am, the stronger the aura is. That tells me when I’m going in the right direction. The monsters I come across are stronger, too, and I start to see worms. There are a lot of them around one particular crater in the sand. Setting myself up on a nearby cliff, I look over to see if that’s the way down.

Damage taken: 1500 (ignored: 934)

1367/2000

Resistance to physical damage: +0.01%

Physical damage ignored up to 968/second

I’ve been taking increased damage from the aura of pain and suffering for the past two hours, meaning that I’m going the right way and should be coming across that fortress soon.

I peek over a cleft in the cliff. There should be an easy way down. But as I get started, I realize that something’s wrong. The hit to the face I take tells me exactly what that is.

Demons, Sand Scout, Level 214

I dodge the next blow, and the scout is dead ten seconds later.

Yeah…I need to work on my perception. He was right there and I didn’t notice him. He even had natural camouflage. I noticed him changing color to blend in with the cliff. The fact that I was already halfway into the cleft in the cliff, not to mention the spike in the scout’s throat, ensured that the alarm wasn’t raised.

Last time, I used the worms to boost my perception. It’s time for that again. I can work on my resistance at the same time.

The worms crawl out of their holes and meander around in a circle. Another one pops out, though he’s killed by another scout. It looks like they’re hunting, too, or maybe there’s some kind of cold war on. A different worm eats that scout, preoccupied as he is with his kill, after sneaking up behind him. A second later, and there’s no scout. Just two very happy worms going back to their crawling.

Some time later, I notice a whole squad of scouts. The worms eat half of them; the rest make a run for the cliffs. That leaves me to keep running further in, having gotten used to the local aura and boosted my perception to 100. I think this is just a nest of worms, not the fortress.

Damage taken: 2500 (ignored: 1534)

1077/2000

Resistance to physical damage: +0.01%

Physical damage ignored up to 1592/second

It didn’t take going far before that happened. I can’t be far from the fortress if I’m taking that much more damage. I need to keep going, keep working on my resistance.

Another hour goes by, and I’ve found the right level of damage and crawled into a secluded spot but it turns out to be inhabited by a blend of mole and human. To be honest, I jumped when it popped out of the ground right in front of me. As part of the loot I get from him, there’s a shovel, and I give him his dues by digging him a grave.

Damage taken: 4500 (ignored: 1592)

125/2000

Resistance to physical damage: +0.02%

Physical damage ignored up to 1677/second

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 1071/second

That scared me. A little more, and I would have lost all the work I’ve put in over the past four months. There is one thing I’ve noticed, however: the worse your wounds, the faster your survivability improves. The same is true with resistance: the harder you get hit, the quicker it goes.

Off in the distance, there’s an enormous fortress with two towers. Above it, on a separate little island, is a crystal. Even my simple eyes can see the red waves emanating from it. Although, on my map it looks like I have a good 24 hours of running ahead of me before I get to the center of the circle, so there are either two rings of fortresses or there’s another one in the center.

I sit there for three days working on my resistance. The moles really get on my nerves, constantly popping right up under my legs. There’s a whole graveyard in here!

My perception reaches 140. There’s more detail in the world around me: from a way off, I can see the tiniest details on the dwarf trees, and even blades of grass. It’s time to head toward the fortress.

As soon as a patrol marches by, I set off after them. The demons are ridiculously talkative, and I learn lots of new words, the latest gossip, and even some useful information. I’m currently in the domain of Latimin, to whom the fortress belongs. The scouts belonged to Ovidius’ neighboring domain. Quick skirmishes are the norm, and help the demons level-up. The strongest ones are sent to serve in the lower circles of Hell. At the center of the ninth circle, there’s Fales’ fortress. That’s where I need to go.

I follow them for about a kilometer.

Damage taken: 8500 (ignored: 6592)

225/2000

It takes me a week to get to the level I need to be to get closer to the fortress. Nobody sees me in the small cave I use for this purpose, though that’s mostly due to the prickly bush covering the entrance. Then, two gargoyles notice me and fly down. I drag them, stunned, into the cave. Outside, there’s a lake of lava, and the heat is monstrous.

Taking blood from the gargoyles, I draw pentagrams and drag the flying beasts on top of them. Healing and vampire spikes pin them to the ground. I just need to make sure that they stay on top of the pentagrams.

Damage taken: 86300 (ignored: 63722)

12422/35000

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 63998/second

One weak healing restores 6060 health; nine streams gives me 54540. I take 22538 fire damage, leaving the other two streams to keep the gargoyles stunned.

I think back to the last conversation I had with the “psychologist”: after a long monologue about how I need to talk more with my peers, I found out that she can watch recordings of my gameplay. Eliza knows that I’m in some kind of terrible location where I’m constantly hurting myself. As she talks about deviances related to masochism, she makes a very serious face. I laugh for a long time, and her face only gets more serious. If she could only see what I’m doing with the gargoyles or my first experiments with necromancy, she’d say that I have a penchant for sadism. She hasn’t touched me for two months, Vaalsie isn’t punishing me, and I couldn’t be happier.

I purposely avoid using the demon appearance since I need my normal look to work with all my streams of consciousness. I’ll figure it out.

For the past week, I’ve been trying to find a replacement for the gargoyles. They’re too weak: at Level 144, they only have 17500 health. I’ve gotten up to 6.12% resistance to physical damage, ignoring up to 10752. With fire, the story is even better: 23.19% (up to 163792 damage ignored per second). I imagine the damage done by the aura near the fortress will reach 50000.

Suddenly, my solution appears: two squads and Harol himself.

“Ah, there you are! Are you going to come with us quietly or will we have to take you by force?”

They remind me of the kids back at the orphanage. It’s all about force. But I need victims, and I just logged into the game. I have plenty of time to work.

“Somebody’s been killing us recently, so tell us where your friends are. Tell us, and you’ll die quickly…”

The fight lasts five minutes. My enhanced strength, magic, and incredible speed mean that nobody can stand against me. Four of them stay constantly stunned, I heal myself, I attack with magic, and I send destruction spikes flying at them. Ultimately, three are left alive: two gargoyle commanders and Harol, who got his wings broken immediately. Just in case, I leave a wailer, too. The battle turned out to be a good way of testing my skills. Having survived, I go around collecting loot and burning bodies.

Then, I drag the four bodies away, brush away my tracks, kill a few beasts who noticed me, and brush away my tracks again. Four is too many, but, like Galboa always said, it isn’t work when you’re working for yourself.

The next two days are spent giving a show of pain—not mine, of course. I kill the wailer, using the gargoyles and Haron for my rituals.

Damage taken: 193216 (ignored: 163792)

12422/82720

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 164851/second

This time, I leave only Harol stunned; the gargoyles are awake the whole time. They stoically endure the pain, the same way I do. Now, I’m taking 29457 damage and can heal 60600. I need a reserve just in case something happens. The demons turn out to be awfully talkative, and I learn quite a bit, also, beefing up my knowledge of the demon tongue, over the two days we spend together. Fifty hours later, I’m forced out of the game. The capsule, apparently, has a restriction on how much time you can spend in it, and I just have time to kill the trio and hide deeper in the cave before I log out.

After sleeping for eighteen hours, I wake up hungry. I decide to eat before jumping back into the game.

As soon as I arrive, I realize that I’m being hunted. Demons are flying everywhere, darkening the sky, and scouts are running to and fro. I meet one right at the entrance to the cave and simply toss his body into the lava.

I don’t know how much damage the aura of pain does, so I have to give the fortress a wide berth. But when I do ultimately get to the center, pretty close to the fortress, I have to slow down. I was right; the aura is especially painful here. Ten days are spent boosting my resistance as I gradually take one step closer after another. The aura does 70000 damage, 40% of which is mental, the rest physical. Hell is a terrible place if this is what just the auras are like. What about the local bosses?

Again, I hit the effective ceiling. I can no longer boost the amount of health I have; all I can do is work on the amount I can restore per second, a total of 60000. The fire teaches me that lesson very quickly.

I can’t find a good place next to the fortress to work on my resistance, so I have to get smart about it. The aura doesn’t destroy items. I pull on a full load of armor and all the jewelry I have, giving me enough stamina even with the penalty I get for not having the right level for it all. Regardless, I’m able to get to the pit.

Well, it’s more an enormous hole than a pit. All of Imir and the surrounding lands would have fit into it. I can barely see the other side. Did I really make it here? It’s hard to believe. No, I’m better off climbing down slowly than jumping, but first…

“Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 200

Agility: 200

Stamina: 200

Intellect: 200

Wisdom: 200

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 200

Athleticism: 200

Morale: 200

Survivability: 200

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 100 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 500 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 2000 (wisdom*10)

Health: 2000 (stamina*10)

Strength: 2000 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 2000/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 2000/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 2000/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 76 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 10.01% (damage ignored: up to 45077/second)

Poison: 1.27% (damage ignored: up to 211/second)

Mental damage: 8.69% (damage ignored: up to 26700/second)

Fire: 26.21% (damage ignored: up to 280515/second)

Skills

Cooking: 25

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 2

Swimming: 4

Breath-holding: 5

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 250

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 166

Necromancy: 250

Blood magic: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 23

Blacksmith: 8

Carpenter: 16

Passive skills

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

Demon possession, complete

Gifts

Meeting deferred

The numbers are great, of course. I haven’t spent these five months suffering for nothing. How long is it going to take me to get through all eight circles? Or does the hole drop straight through to the bottom?

As I think, I crawl. It’s an odd feeling, letting yourself down into a bottomless opening. It’s almost like signing your own death warrant or cutting off your head. I have the wild idea of taking the leap, fortifying my body, and seeing if I would live. The swarm of ants meandering across my back tells me that it’s a terrible idea, and I’m inclined to agree with them, so I keep going. It gets really scary when the magic torches start disappearing. No, I didn’t let them go; they just melted away two meters below me. In fact, that scares me so badly that my fingers relax and I slip into the abyss.

The shock wears off quickly. As soon as I hit the ground, I have to dodge a strike; some kind of naked girl with a whip is chattering away in demonic tongue.

Come at me with a whip and you’ll die by the whip.

Demons, Dust Succubus, Level 177

Killing opponents who have no idea what battle tactics are is easy. It was harder with the gargoyles, though the good part here is that I know what she’s trying to say now.

“Time to punish the bad boy! Get on your knees so I can spank you.”

What did I do to her? Why beat me? Just to make sure, I take the whip away from her. It’s rare, so I don’t destroy it. I have room.

At first, I thought that I was still in the first circle, but I was wrong.

Current location: Second Circle of Hell. Lust.

Rock wasteland

If I were an adult, the girl probably would have spanked me, and I would’ve been only too happy to die. But my attitude to girls is a little different: I want to kill them all.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that most demons don’t wear armor, and very few of them use weapons. I wonder why that is.

I take off at a run, notwithstanding the hurricane-force gale blowing in my face. Sometimes, my body is taken and thrown against the cliff, but that’s okay. My resistance to physical damage is plenty high enough.

The closer I get to the center, the harder the wind blows. Sometimes, it seems like there’s a blade cutting through my body, or somebody has lassoed me and tossed me against a rock. I definitely won’t be able to do any work here. Once again, I hit a stone, and I look around to see that there’s a ring of fortresses in front of me. Each is surrounded by an actual tornado. How am I going to get through between two of those? I remember the gargoyles. The sky is clear, though there are naked and half-naked women roaming around below it. They move slowly and gracefully. The strongest is at Level 202.

The wind whips around me; the clouds move slowly. Roads lead toward the fortresses, which patrols are protecting from the gale using force fields. Of course, I could get by them in stealth mode, but there’s no guarantee that they don’t have some kind of Harol who can sense all kinds of magic. I found out how I’d been located when I was torturing the gargoyles: Harol was a guard, and he could sense any changes in magic across a long distance.

The idea looks silly, but I want to try it. I start sewing myself wings. First, I break down all the cloth and leather items I have, and then I sew the resulting materials together. I got bone wings from the gargoyles, so I use them as a framework. Finally, I finish with a construction that weighs 75 kilograms.

Trimmed gargoyle wings

A despairing sinner decided to taste the joy of flight and die, broken on the cliffs. The heavier they are, the harder it is to fly. Using them damages them.

Effect: Let you fly

Requirement: 200 strength, 200 stamina, 200 agility

Durability: 801/1000

It’s two weeks of Hell just for me. Up I fly, down I crash, so many times that I lose count, but I finally learn how to fly. The hardest part is controlling my body in flight, as my center of gravity drops from my stomach to my hips. I can take off just by relaxing the lower half of my body and strengthening my arms and torso. To make sure that happens, I put on all the artifacts I have that boost stamina and agility.

The enormous wings work, each two meters long. I wave my arms rhythmically and take off, though I’m all the way at the edge of the circle next to the shroud to get as far away from the wind as I can. It’s calm out here.

After taking off, I fly toward the center. Yes, a flying pet wouldn’t be a bad idea. Really, I have to imagine that any bird seeing me right now would die of laughter. Even chicks falling out of the nest don’t look this bad.

I move fairly slowly. It’s a long way down, but I can see that the hurricane doesn’t go any higher than 100 meters. If I fall from up here, I’m dead. And so I just breathe easily and keep flying. The hurricanes and the fortresses are behind me, and I’m thinking about flying down to what looks like the placid ground when I notice something strange. There isn’t a single mountain in the area, just smooth ground covered in sand and rocks. There isn’t even the scrawniest plant. Peering closer, I notice that it isn’t the ground; it’s a wall of wind carrying dust and earth along with it. My improved perception saved the day. If it hadn’t been for this, I’d have flown down and died. At least, I may have survived, but I wouldn’t have been able to take off again.

About a hundred meters away from the next hole, the wind dies down. The flight takes me thirty-five hours.

I land and laugh for a long time. It was fun, scary, and…exciting.

***

I can’t just stick my wings in my inventory, so I tie them to my back and start down.

Again, the exact same thing happens, only now I wait until the torches disappear, jump down, and immediately turn on stealth. I toss the wings away and head thirty meters in.

Nothing happens to start with, and then an enormous, three-headed dog runs up. It’s several meters tall at the withers, and even longer than that. I see powerful muscles writhing under its skin. One head turns toward the spot where I fell, and the dog starts sniffing. My stealth is still working, but I’m not going to be able to get away. I don’t have the ability to walk quietly, and the dog is very experienced; it picks up my scent right away.

Demons, Cerberus, Level 350

He’s an attacker, half his points in stamina, with about 100000 health absent skills. That thought flits through my mind one second, and I’ve taken on my demon appearance the next. I leap right onto its neck and grip the fur, using my magic to attack.

It takes me ten minutes to kill it. The only thing it can do is roll around on the ground, and I attack with everything I have. He turns out to have complete immunity to fire and stun. Dark arrows take off a little health, and I hang on tight as I cast them. Suddenly, however, he throws me off. My next blow, however, is equal to the strength of the eleven boulders I pick up and hurl at him. I was right: the dog has huge resistance to physical damage. On the other hand, my attack does about 50000 damage. The barrage of rocks crash against his chest and shatter; he falls backward and doesn’t move.

Phew, that was a huge risk. If the attack hadn’t worked, he would’ve killed me, although, he definitely doesn’t have the kind of resistance I have.

I get a leather mantle and a bunch of other junk from him. After taking it all, I keep moving.

The mini map shows me that I’m in the third circle of Hell. It’s raining, though - a torrential downpour. Sometimes, I hear thunder, other times there’s hail. No aura - just damage from the hail. The farther I go, the stronger the smell of decay gets. That’s so nasty! Then, I see them: enormous, fat people and other creatures. A dwarf steps on his beard and topples over, leaving him in a position where he can’t move. All he can do is mumble something.

Everyone here is rotting alive and constantly moaning. I’m used to pain and suffering, but this is awful. I’ve always felt the anguish people around me are going through and even if I don’t feel it myself, I can clearly sense it.

It’s only when I get closer to the center of the circle that I start to take damage from the aura of rot. It’s physical, and not as bad as the auras of pain and suffering in the first circle. The fat slobs don’t represent much of a threat, either. And now I can say I’ve seen a fat elf. Of course, he’s rotting alive in the rain, and I have a hard time looking at him without commiserating.

I don’t kill anyone but Cerberus in this circle. I can’t even look at the sinners without feeling pain, on the other hand. For the third day in a row, I’m struggling through the wall of rain and hail, the cold water drenching me. As long as it doesn’t start snowing. The stench is so bad that I could vomit, only I haven’t eaten in almost a month. I threw out all of my food.

On the fourth day, I hear thunder and see lightning.

Damage taken: 500 (ignored: 0)

1534/2000

Resistance to electricity: +0.01%

Lightning damage ignored: 6/second

I keep going. I need more damage. The farther I go, the colder it gets, and there’s too much lightning for me to count. It’s just a deafening roar.

Damage taken: 1 (ignored: 0)

1531/2000

Resistance to cold: +0.01%

Cold damage ignored: 6/second

It’s getting colder. Large hailstones keep smacking me in the head, and there are snowflakes coming down with the rain.

What could be more fun than going for a swim? The last time I did that, it was with father in the creek by our house. In real life, I’ve never been swimming. We only have showers at the orphanage.

I could stay here for a while and enjoy the gift fate has given me. First, I need to boost my resistance to electricity and cold. Second, I can practice my swimming skill and holding my breath. Third, I’m just having fun.

That does it. I decide to stay for a while.

I take three weeks to learn the crawl and breaststroke. Learning butterfly didn’t work. On the other hand, I was able to learn how to do the dolphin kick. My speed, strength, and agility are all doing great. I leap out of the water, take in air, and dive right back where I came from. The magic torches even work under water, so I can see the bottom perfectly. I end up liking swimming on my back, too. I feel calm and peaceful… That’s impressive, since lightning is striking just a kilometer away, and the air is filled with a stench that disgusts me. Well, disgusted me. I don’t pay any attention to it anymore, too busy enjoying what I can do.

Damage taken: 35000 (ignored: 33811)

1142/2000

Resistance to electricity: +0.01%

Lightning damage ignored: 33896/second

Damage taken: 650 (ignored: 430)

881/2000

Resistance to cold: +0.01%

Cold damage ignored: 455/second

Water is an excellent conductor. I used to jump every time lightning struck, and a few times I even almost drowned. Now, even the strongest charges do nothing to break the peace and quiet I feel. My body feels a bit chilled, even throwing out some heat of its own.

A week later, I’ve had enough of swimming. I can go at a good clip: three meters a second the usual way, holding my breath for four minutes and twenty seconds. Under water, with a completely empowered body and my demon appearance, I can top 15 meters a second with my dolphin kick. That’s what I was going for more than anything else.

There weren’t any victims for me to use to boost my health and work on my resistance, so I had to get my stamina up as high as it would go and swim next to the bottom under the storm front. The water there was boiling. Down there, I didn’t feel the charges as strongly as I felt them on the surface, though I had all eleven streams of consciousness working to heal me - more than ten times a second. It worked. It just didn’t work exactly the way I expected it to.

I flew out of the water at full speed, heading straight through a waterfall flowing into an abyss. The dark hole sucked me and my cries in together.

***

Once again, it’s Hell and the lifeless Fields of Ash, the misty shroud with the lords and Death. They’re at the beginning of every circle.

I’ve always been met at the beginning of each new circle by guards, and here’s another one. What do you expect from an animal-like old man three meters tall who looks more like a behemoth? He’s even blind. Yup! You expect death. He appeared ten minutes after I did. “The guards follow the intruder until they catch him and make his soul suffer.” The gargoyles had been kind enough to tell me that. I’d better just kill him right away.

Beastman, Plutos, Level 400

It doesn’t look like I’m in for a fair fight. I hurl my destruction spikes at him, followed by the vampire spikes, and finally just big rocks. My last spike hits him in the head, and he isn’t expecting me to hit him after a running start. Just like I wasn’t expecting to survive after a hit that does 25000 damage. Plutos hits me so hard with his club that I go rolling off along the ground. What saves me is that his hit isn’t that strong. He still had the spike in his head.

Damage taken: 25513 (ignored: 26700)

2000/2000

After passing through the Fields of Ash, I see a strange picture. Humans and non-humans alike are hauling rocks, pieces of iron, and the bodies of other people. Everyone’s carrying something, and they’re all overloaded. When they bump into each other, they start fighting. Okay, so the most important thing here is to avoid touching anyone. The mental damage I’m taking from the auras of rage and annoyance tell me that there’s a fortress here, and that it will only intensify as I get closer. It’s a good thing the mobs are provisionally neutral.

I don’t actually take damage, though I feel anger building up inside me.

Plutos gave me two rings and a necklace, all with hidden attributes. I take my spikes back and toss the body away. It’ll disappear in an hour anyway. It’s time to work on my resistance to mental damage.

As soon as I find the right damage level, I start looking around for victims. There are two Level 280 profligates near the cliff where I’ve holed up, and I use them. The heavy work they’ve been doing has done them good. During the ritual, our combined health totals 229520. They’re beasts, with ridiculous stamina! Excellent.

I’m very close to the spot where mental damage really picks up. It’s easy to see. There are the same red waves the crystal on top of the fortress in the first circle of Hell gave off. The whitish barrier is about five meters away.

The closer you get to it, the more damage you take.

Once again, I spend 50 hours in the game, completely engrossed in my artifact work and blood magic. Until the last two months, I didn’t know the extent to which you can learn by reading, but there it is! The most important part is to never forget to heal myself. I already caught two victims, so I have plenty of blood.

Artifactors create items that affect the mental body, giving it new skills or boosting its attributes. The mental body, in turn, affects the physical body. For now, I’m using bones, wood, and pieces of metal to create simple items, then drawing runes on them. It’s the usual kind of artifact creation, only with ritual, blood magic instead of normal magic.

My next job is to max out my blacksmith and carpenter professions. If I can do that, I’ll be able to create items with a +200% bonus. I don’t have a crafting skill, so I’ll just be able to make high-quality items with basic bonuses taken from the materials. I have much better ways of making my own bonuses.

Ritual magic is built on items of power: mana crystals, sacrifices, herbs, animal body parts, and so on. In my case, they give me a +200% bonus, along with the little bump I get from my blood magic.

Master artifactors work the same way, while ritual magic only uses mana crystals. The methods I use are too bloody and ancient.

I need a bone-carving knife, so I’m forced to make one in the primitive conditions I’m in. One of my healing spikes serves the purpose. I end up with something between a knife and a file, though I can throw it, at least. I use it to carve rings out of bone, something that turns out to be very easy. When I stop growing as quickly, I move on to carving runes out of bone. Then, it’s bone needles, knives, spoons, and doorknobs. Finally, I’m out of bone, so I break them all down into bone meal I can use in rituals.

Working with metal takes some doing. I can’t make slender strands for rings or chains, so I have to make forms out of stone and pour molten metal into them. The fact that I can bend red-hot ingots with my bare hands turns out to be a nice plus.

I focus everything on making thin rings. All the usual items I get are broken down into their components, with cloth thrown out and metal kept. The only things I don’t touch are valuables with hidden attributes. Those I keep.

I have to kill my victims and stop working on my mental resistance as I need new materials. Collecting them is all I do for the next two days.

The profligates, misers, moneylenders, and other sinners have a veritable mountain of material, and I drag everything I find back to my plateau. Stealing iron chests full of rocks and running away is hilarious. And I really need the metal.

I’m having so much fun that I don’t even realize it’s been fifty hours. Hurriedly, I dig myself into the dirt, leaving just my eyes and nose above it.

***

Eliza had been keeping an eye on Anji for almost seven months. The whole time, she played in Project Chrysalis, too, watching how her charges played. For all of them, the new world was one of discovery, a ray of hope. They were happy to find parents, even if they were in-game, as they seemed real. All the many projects that had been created before Project Chrysalis were like four cardboard walls in comparison, and all children and in-game parents were offered the opportunity to move there after the beta test ended. When the children logged in, they found themselves with the same family, only in a different world.

Anji was an exception to that rule, although his psychological data said that he was feeling fine. Eliza didn’t believe a word of it. He’d spent seven months in a location where it was always evening, and where the sky was blanketed in black clouds outlined in red. First, he laid there without moving for ten days, and then he ran along the ash desert for two weeks. Finally, Eliza stopped watching. It was terrifying just to think how the boy had tried to make friends with the creatures in the misty shroud. Could that be a cry for attention? Then, he ran away on his own. It looked like a kind of hell, though she wasn’t sure how he’d got there.

He ignored all her attempts to break through to him, and threats only made it worse. Even silence was a welcome relief to him. Neither she nor Anji had said a word at any of the last ten meetings. He just sat there motionless, and then went back to playing the game happily and actively. At least, that was her impression.

The previous six months, she’d asked Moro to collect the recordings of his gameplay, though she didn’t keep an eye on him. She needed a break and more information before she made a decision. Anyway, she decided that it was a good time to check in on him right then.

***

It took me three weeks to get my carpenter and blacksmith skills to 250. Then, I spent another three getting my artifact skill to the same level. Today, I can finally get to work on what all of that is for. I break down all of the items I’ve created, leaving just my spikes. I need metal! So much metal! And lots of spikes.

The strongest of the blood magic seals I have access to is a three-level seal for 85 sacrifices. Fifty of them go in the outer ring, 25 in the second ring, and 10 in the third ring. In the center, you put the item you want to cast the spell on. The magician needs to be holding onto it, and the artifact you create will become yours, powerless in the hands of others. Then, the item grows along with the owner’s level until it hits its limit, at which point, it is destroyed. That’s basically how blood magic attaches items to their owners.

For that reason, I look around to see what kind of valuable materials I have. Everything highlighted silver in my inventory is made out of mithril, something I figured out after breaking down my first ring. Forty-seven rings, two swords, and ten necklaces go toward making eight rings and a chain.

I decide not to reset the gems in the rings. I don’t want to look like a girl! They attract attention I don’t want, too. All I leave is a bloody malachite, grinding it up and adding it to the heated metal. Even though you can barely tell that it’s there, the finished product has slight flecks of a cold white color. If the ritual works, I’ll have to wear gloves. I don’t want to attract attention to myself with something that beautiful.

I spend another hour making gloves out of the leather cloak I got from Cerberus. Now, I’m ready. The seal lasts four hours before disappearing, so I need to find some victims.

Finding and catching them is easy. Leaving part of them in the outer circle, I go back to the rest. They all have to be pinned to the ground with spikes and stun runes. One spike stuns for an hour, four for six.

The next part is both the simplest and the most complex: I have to kill my victims in a particular order, gradually increasing the flow of energy to the rings. The problem is that the ritual is designed to be carried out by at least two people, so I have to hold the ring with one hand and use my second to kill the sacrifices with magic. As the lines of the seal glow red, a hum breaks out, and suddenly, the space inside starts to flicker a dark red color. Evidently, the mana itself changed color and became visible to the eye.

As soon as the first part of the ritual is complete, the concentration and astral transfer runes activate. My victims and I are supposed to be taken to an island of calm in the astral, though the danger lies in the fact that I don’t know what will happen there. Will I be just as strong, have all my stamina? Happily, it works. I turn out to have my same body and even the same equipment. I just have to run away from the crowd of angry men. They’re all at Level 280, too, so that’s pretty scary. Their number thins quickly, however, as I turn magic damage and destruction spikes on them. As soon as I kill the last one, I’m sent back to reality.

Forced transfer to personal virtual space

Initiator: Eliza Donovan

Transfer in: 10… 9… 8… 7… 3… 2… 1 second

***

“Miss Elizabeth, you should see what Anji Ganet is doing right now.” ArtIn Moro was polite, always telling Eliza when there were problems with her wards. They didn’t have that many in the game, though there was the odd occasion.

“What’s going on? I’m in a meeting.”

“From what I can tell, he’s conducting a mass sacrifice that equates to the level of a blood magic master.”

“I’ll be done in ten minutes. Bring him to my virtual space. Kids can’t do that! The rules of the game don’t let them.”

A minute later, Moro addressed Eliza again.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but the situation just got complicated. According to the Project Chrysalis ArtIn, no rules have been broken. The boy is in another world, one without those restrictions, and the ArtIn is refusing to force him into the personal space until the ritual is complete.”

“What’s going on over there?! Okay, I’m leaving for the personal space. Bring him there as soon as the ritual is done.”

Eliza waited for almost twenty minutes. When Anji showed up, he was practically glowing with joy, even smiling at Eliza. Is that how a boy who has sacrificed almost 85 intelligent creatures should look? she thought.

“What are you doing? Why are you torturing people? You decided to use blood magic, and now you’re doing mass sacrifices? You think you’re going to get away with this? Your karma’s going to be terrible as soon as people realize you’re a blood mage. Do you have any idea what’s going on? There’s a war! And all you can think about is knifing people by the dozen. They can see where any item came from! Any! If an item has anything to do with black magic, the owner is either executed or sent to the mines. How did you even figure out how to use blood magic? The game doesn’t let kids anywhere near it!”

Anji’s only reaction to her wrathful tirade was an attack of Homeric laughter.

“I’m going to write a petition to have you kept from using blood magic. And I’m going to tell the supervisor to cut down on your free time!”

***

It’s incredible! I’m holding in my hands a ring that I created myself. It whispers something about a wish to serve its master, turning out to be just as semi-intelligent as the book said it would be. The only problem is that I was summoned by the psychologist as soon as I left the astral, and I don’t have much time left if she’s going to follow through with her threats. First, though, I want to see what I came up with.

Superior vampire acolyte ring

A crazy blood mage killed dozens of people to create this ring, endowing it with consciousness and a thirst for blood. The blood malachite and mithril give the ring incredible power, though only its owner can wield it. The ring would destroy anyone else who tried to wear it.

Effect:

Power +25

Stamina +25

Survivability +25

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

I’m the crazy blood mage! I’m a psycho, sadist, and masochist, too. That’s what Eliza is going to think when she sees what I’ve been doing for the last six months. I need to hurry if they are going to approve her petition - I won’t have access to blood magic or sacrifices anymore. What a ring!

As soon as I put it on, it buries itself in my finger, all the way down to the bone. The message that pops up tells me that I can only remove it by lopping off my finger. A symbiotic ring! Just the one ring gives me so much. I’d sacrifice all of Hell to make more of them. It’s just a shame I don’t have a craftsman skill, otherwise there would be more bonuses.

Over the next five days, I kill more than I have in the last six months. But I’m the happy new owner of eight identical rings and chains.

Blood mage vampire chain

Killing people by the hundreds in his avid experiments, a blood mage created this chain. His thirst for power and strength was so strong that it was absorbed into it.

Effect:

Intellect +35

Wisdom +35

Morale +35

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

As soon as I slip the chain on, it curls around my neck twice and buries itself in the flesh. I don’t even want to think about the message telling me that I have to chop my head off if I want to remove it.

It turns out that the way you create items, the way you kill your victims during the ritual, and the kind of victims they are has an effect on the items’ attributes and bonuses. I’m not an artifactor, so I won’t be able to enchant them. That’s a shame, too. It would be interesting to see what damage resistance bonuses I could get.

I’m a Level 0 monster! I thirst for strength, even if power doesn’t interest me. Formally speaking, I’ve found a way to quickly boost my attributes and therefore my chances of survival. It’s time to make some gloves.

Just to see what happens, I only use one kind of bot. It turns out that they have to be the same, so I go with warriors. I have to go pretty far from the plateau where I work, but I do end up finding an entire location packed with warriors hauling logs and rocks.

This time, I use a different ritual seal. The victims are supposed to die slowly, but I ignore the options for a cruel, painful death. I’m not bad enough to take lives that way.

Leather cannibal gloves

A crazy mage figured out something very surprising: if you eat the body part of a still-living victim, you get to take their life force. He was killed by his own servants, who used one of his victims to poison him.

Effect:

Agility +45

Wisdom +12

Morale +51

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

After the ritual, the gloves change, going from black to a dirty whitish color. The leather is much softer, reminding me of girlish hands. They fit tightly, making my hands more feminine and elegant. In my demon appearance, they fuse with my body.

I spend a whole week running around looking for archers like a madman, but then I do find them. There’s some kind of forest full of archers lugging logs around. They fight, and it’s a sight not for the faint of heart. The old men yank each other’s hair, tear at each other’s ears, and kick each other in the crotch. Oh god, what is this place?

Thinking back to my father, I remember what he said and the branch of the walk-tree the blacksmith sent me to get. I’ve been working on my carpentry skills so I can make a bow, after all. Father’s going to be so proud of me!

Ahead lies my biggest experiment yet. It’s the largest and most complex seal in ritual magic and blood magic, a seal more suited to a grand master’s 550 skill than my 200. I need almost five hundred victims and a seven-layer pentagram, and I have no idea how I’m going to kill that many people in the astral. But I want to try. I’m prepared to risk everything just to see what happens.

Just the thought of facing down a crowd two thousand strong, with a level two magnitudes beyond my own, and the prize at the end, sends a shiver of sweet anticipation running down my spine. A crazy smile spreads unwittingly across my face. I want to know just how strong I am.

I spend two weeks getting ready for the ritual. It takes almost two days to perfect the seal, making sure it matches everything in the book. Instead of a bowstring, I use a dragon whisker yanked from the succubus’ whip. It looks great: there’s a branch sprouting with leaves, and then a glistening whisker tied up with bows on the ends.

I drag over four victims at a time and feel exhausted, mostly emotionally. There’s a feeling starting to creep up on me: is all this really okay?

The ritual itself goes by quickly, and the victims die even faster. The seal collects the energy from their souls, creating a local rift that leads to the astral from within the item. It’s crazy there. I look around to see ten islands of calm in the same place, making one big island. That’s where the battle plays out.

I shouldn’t have doubted my skills. At one point, a dozen elven arrows smack into me, and my health dips, but I’m back to normal in ten seconds. With this kind of damage resistance, I’m practically a reaper of death. I fight for three hours until there aren’t any elves left to kill. That, however, is when all kinds of different creatures, human and otherwise, start coming after me from the astral itself. They’re all pretty strong, too. They fly, crawl, and hover, some of them even inhabiting other souls. I have to use my full body fusion, my maximum running speed, my destruction spikes, enhanced strikes, and all my vampire spikes. It goes on like that for almost six hours until they retreat and let me go.

As soon as I get back from the astral, I grab the bow and stick it in my inventory. I have less than a minute to hide. I just got a message about my capsule being turned off.

***

Eliza had to go back to the orphanage that day. Anji was a danger to himself and the people around him. Over the past six months, he’d broken more rules than the rest of her wards combined. She’d watched his recordings for three weeks running, ever since the first incident, and he’d spent most of it sitting by the fire or just spending time around his victims where nobody could see him. There was one moment where Anji was torturing his victims, and, the worst part, he just smiled and nodded to everything they said. She’d just seen the recordings from today and was shocked by the changes: Anji had started consciously going out and looking for victims for his rituals. Then, there was a moment of calm before the boy started dragging the bodies over the night before. It was sickening. Hundreds of victims, an enormous, eleven-sided seal drawn in blood, and the poor people pinned to the ground with spikes in their hands and feet. She was too late for the beginning of the ritual and couldn’t stop it once it had started, so her only option was to turn his capsule off. That required Vaalsie’s sign-off, however, and so that’s who she went to see.

The supervisor, once he’d joined the virtual space, started watching the feed from Anji’s capsule. The boy was looking at a large pentagram covered in bodies, and Vaalsie cut loose with a long, varied construction that described Anji’s origin and mental capacity. Leaving him in the virtual space, Eliza had left for the orphanage. She was able to watch what was happening in the game from her aerocar. Just at that moment, Anji headed into the astral, something that was supposed to be impossible for children. The battle was joined. Afterward, a bunch of monsters attacked him, something that hadn’t happened once since the game was launched.

When she got there, the boy was still in Project Chrysalis, still in the astral space. As soon as the battle ended, she forced a shutdown.

Anji crawled out of the capsule and looked at them with tired eyes. He’d spent 57 hours in the game; too much even for an adult. There were kids all around, ready for him to get chewed out. Vaalsie started it off.

“Anji Ganet, in view of your many violations of behavioral etiquette here in the orphanage, you have lost your access to the game reality for two months. Now go, wash up, and talk with Miss Elizabeth.”

The boy did exactly what he was told. Except, he didn’t really listen to any of it, just accepting the fact that he was being punished. He reacted to Elizabeth’s enraged speech the same way. It happened in the cafeteria without being planned out ahead of time, so they had plenty of company. Anji listened in complete indifference as he ate. Then, he went off to get some sleep, not even waiting to hear the end.

***

Bernard was worried. As was his usual custom, he polished his dragon-bone staff, even though it was already polished to a shine. The problem was an open quest, the one he’d given Sagie in Imir. After the ritual, the boy should have been sent to Hell, and his death would have automatically closed the failed quest. But eight months had gone by, and the quest was still open. That meant he was still alive. The worst enemies are the kind who will stop at nothing to kill you, even if everything you’ve done is necessary, immoral and terrible, but necessary. It had worked for everybody else. There were ten new gods in the pantheon, and all of his brethren had been able to get away after completing the ritual. Wanderers don’t leave witnesses.

A millennium and a half had passed since people had found out about other worlds, and the gods who’d wanted to leave that world had found out how to do so from a wanderer. Dying as a god meant being reborn as a human and passing through the world of the gods to the island of freedom. That’s where the portal was.

“The answers to all your questions are on the other side.” Bernard still remembered what Idzumi had said.

First, everybody laughed at the wanderers. They cracked jokes, giving them different quests, though they gradually gathered strength. Idzumi was so strong that even the gods didn’t know what his level was. He proved that it was possible to kill a god, too. It had been Bernard himself who challenged him to a battle. Gods love their facts. None of his kind had been willing to risk death in order to see if the wanderer was telling the truth.

Witnesses of the battle thought that Idzumi commanded more than four thousand streams of consciousness. Even with replenishment from the main altar and Bernard’s enormous strength reserve, the battle lasted almost all day, and even that was just because the wanderer had decided to show the difference in strength. Bernard tried to break through Idzumi’s shields, used astral attacks on his mental body, lit the air on fire, and tried to turn the wanderer to ash. Idzumi ignored everything; he just breathed magic, literally. He didn’t care, spending a whole hour under water and just taking everything Bernard threw at him without reacting in the least.

The other gods decided to punish the rude wanderer. Their combined strike created a desert, left craters several kilometers deep, and reached such a level of strength with their fire and magic background that the fire elementals disintegrated almost as soon as they were born.

Then, Idzumi killed Bernard’s avatar with one strike. It was crazy. He put paid to the strength restrictions, killing all things living in a ten-kilometer circle around him. The magic background boiled under his power. Then, he pulled an enormous, 130-meter spike out of the astral and hurled it at Bernard. The latter died instantly, both mentally and physically. Even now, thousands of years later, that spike creates an aura that does enough mental damage that even the gods are afraid to touch it.

When Bernard regenerated, he couldn’t remember everything. He’d been a god; he became human. When he showed up at one of his old temples, he found out that many years had passed. His adepts had all gone over to other gods.

Idzumi, just as he’d promised, was waiting for him to regenerate.

“When the time is right, I will come to the world and take my chosen ones. For now, they are your wanderers. I came as humans were beginning to show promise, though Akashi refused to leave alone. As soon as his group is ready, we will leave your world. You, the old gods, can leave it, too. From now on, you, Bernard, will be a wanderer like one of them. Your first rebirth will take one year. Afterward, you will have the same skills the wanderers have, and you will also be able to give quests and share experience.

But now, Bernard was nervous that Sagie would come back from where there was no return. Wanderers had raided Hell, but even they were forced to change their body when they died. Being sent to Hell was considered the ultimate punishment. But what if someone figured out a way to come back?

Bernard worried that the boy might be able to send him to Hell, a scary thought, indeed. None of the gods had seen the boy, so he was still there.

The god wasn’t able to leave the world he was tied to, and that was why he’d be reborn as a wanderer. One of Idzumi’s conditions had been that the death of the gods would be the result of a new wave of wanderers coming from other worlds. They would die in battle, and not as the result of giving themselves up.

“There is no place for the weak.”

He wasn’t joking.

And there was the new wave of wanderers. They came from the same time and world as the first wave, and everything was going according to plan—the new gods had appeared. They represented the hope of old gods to be reborn and leave.

***

Merlen Ruzh was the treasurer for a clan called the Golden Clan. That day, the clan had the opportunity to level-up and add a new floor to their castle. Preparations for the upcoming war were a problem - they cost too much money. Even their divine patron wasn’t nearly as happy as he used to be. Everything was getting harder. In eight months, the clan had pulled in 20 million of the 38 million players in Project Chrysalis. Two military alliances had been formed; warriors were being trained relentlessly. There were trade unions, too, for training craftsmen and developing regional economies, and Imir had even acquired its own stationary portal.

“What’s on your mind this time? Relax, take a trip around the country with your daughter. She has to work, but you can relax!” Leon was in his human avatar body.

“You know very well, and she can work on her saintliness by herself. Hey, have you got the group together?”

“Yep. Soon, they’ll all be taking the word of truth out together. We’re still far from our goal, though this will help. Reaching Level 1000 isn’t easy! It’s a long journey that takes many months.”

After a glass of good wine, they got back to work. It was a new and wondrous world of hard work and discovery. Leon wanted to become more than a god, and he’d set that as the goal for the entire clan. Happily, only the consecrated knew about it.

***

This forced vacation is an odd beast. I’m not itching to get back into the game, seeing as how I have time to work on my actual future now. My experience using eleven streams of consciousness is paying off in real life: I’m making decisions faster, thinking faster. If I used to be like a normal fish, now I’m more an octopus. My brain has lots of arms, and my perception of the world is a conglomeration of lots of little fragments.

What can I do for two months? For one thing, I can read the law on child rights that was drawn up and approved by the UN. The maximum duration for a punishment is thirty days, though I decide not to bring that up with Vaalsie. That’s a good ace to have in my sleeve in case I need to jump into the game. Otherwise, there’s no point getting on his bad side. I need to change the rules of the game. Both Vaalsie and the psychologist are getting in my way, and the fact that I’m a child means that they both have power over me. I need to find adoptive parents or move to an orphanage where I make the rules.

I find an original solution. On one of Jupiter’s moons, there’s а hospital colony, the city-state Arpa. According to local laws, I can receive citizen status when I turn 14 if I’ve lived there for more than three years and have enough money to tide me over until I turn 18. It’s a pretty big sum—90,000 credits—but I can pull it off. If I take money out of the game for a couple years, that should do it, especially if I can sell some items from Hell at the auction.

The citizenship issue won’t be a problem if I can get myself transferred to a local orphanage. The problem is that I’m not sure how I’d do that. I could pretend I have psychiatric disorder and get myself transferred there… That would take some doing, and it would be pricey.

I didn’t even think about going the route of adoptive parents, my experience with Galboa enough to put paid to that idea. If Eliza had told the kids I wasn’t mute, Galboa was definitely fired. I don’t want to screw over the people I care about. I’m a kid, but it’s still really unpleasant…thirsting for strength, becoming strong, and always protecting yourself, staying away from affection and pushing people away.

I renounced weakness and emotion a long time ago. That’s how I learned to be quiet and think. Being human isn’t about what you say; it’s about what you do. Younger children are different from older children in that way.

My nose starts to bleed. I need to relax.

***

Here I am, back in the game. Project Chrysalis greets me with the usual hellish landscape, though I also get to check out my newest acquisition.

Astral bow

A crazy ritual created a local rift in the astral, linking it forever to this bow. The bow itself creates astral arrows full of mana.

Effect: Depends on the type of spell and how much mana you put in each arrow. The maximum charge is equal to the amount of mana you have, and you can be hit with 10% of the damage if the spell recoils.

Requirement: Non-level item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

You want to know what’s crazy? When you pull the bow back and pour all your mana into a single arrow. The cliff shatters, and I’m thrown back 25 meters by the shock wave. And that was just a trial run!

Father’s going to be so proud.

When I pick the bow up, it starts to glow. Superior mages use the same principle when they’re getting ready for a powerful blow, though they make sure they aren’t standing in the same place as their opponent.

“Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 400

Agility: 245

Stamina: 400

Intellect: 235

Wisdom: 247

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 200

Athleticism: 200

Morale: 286

Survivability: 400

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 200 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 1000 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 2470 (wisdom*10)

Health: 4000 (stamina*10)

Strength: 4000 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 4000/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 2860/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 2000/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 76 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 10.01% (damage ignored: up to 45077/second)

Poison: 1.27% (damage ignored: up to 211/second)

Mental damage: 9.19% (damage ignored: up to 29537/second)

Fire: 26.21% (damage ignored: up to 280515/second)

Electricity: 9.85% (damage ignored: up to 42088/second)

Cold: 2.01 (damage ignored: up to 2455/second)

Skills

Cooking: 25

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 2

Swimming: 250

Breath-holding: 250

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 250

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 166

Necromancy: 250

Blood magic: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Artifact creation: 250

Professions

Herbalist: 2

Fisherman: 16

Tailor: 45

Blacksmith: 250

Carpenter: 250

Abilities

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

Demon possession, complete

Gifts

Meeting deferred

The first thing I check to find out is how much health I can restore at a go. Wow, one weak healing gives me 2360. That means that ten streams would give me almost 24000. Victims! I need victims! It’s time to work on my mental resistance.

I’m not allowed to do mass sacrifices anymore, but nobody said anything about just a few for a ritual.

I love working on my mental resistance. There’s no point wasting time on stun spells. Experience shows that spikes work much better. I’m currently taking 22000 damage and healing 24000, though it’s going so slowly. I need more fire! But then it hits me that my skill with the bow isn’t that great, so there’s something to work on. I fire healing arrows to make sure I don’t die from the recoil.

The world around me starts to change. The healing is working on the soil, almost as if it’s alive, and grass, flowers, and other plants start to grow. Two weeks later, there’s a whole grove. Surprisingly, some of the locals stop beating up on each other and come over to my forest, where they sit and relax. Nobody fights. More and more of them show up, though the fights start when they get into arguments about their spots by the trees.

I start heading toward the fortress. Each circle in Hell is smaller than the previous one, and the aura is thicker, too. Because of that, the closer I get to the fortress, the angrier and more annoyed I feel. It’s hard to build my mental resistance. Ultimately, my healing gets up to 176000, and I have a practically unlimited health pool. The important part is to avoid mass sacrifices.

In another two weeks, I’ve created a forest and headed toward the fortress in the fourth circle of Hell under its cover. And here I am. It’s only the trees that calm me down and relax me - the aura is stronger and stronger.

Damage taken: 481100 (ignored: 322676)

363706/522130

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored: up to 333878/second

I push the limit, restoring 59000 health. It’s such a shame that I can’t boost the amount of health I can heal. For that, I would need to increase my intellect, and I can’t do that. What if I create a cloak or a ring instead of a bow? I really want to give it a try, but I can’t.

I don’t have any scrolls, and none of the creatures I kill gives me a single potion. I can probably make them, though. Mama told me that potion-making is one avenue of cooking, so I should give that a try. The aura is really getting to me.  I need a break. That will give me the chance to grow the forest thicker, too.

I go back to shooting at the ground.

Father…I miss you. I wonder how he and mama are doing.

First, I work on the forest, then I make wild strawberries. What can maxed-out healing spells do when they hit fertile soil? I now know the answer to that question. There are enormous trees spreading out for a kilometer in every direction, and I guess that the druids are going to start praying to me. After all, I can grow a forest in Hell.

I have neither flasks nor the ability to make them, though I really want to work on my cooking. But I bet that the psychologist won’t exactly give me a pat on the head if I start to cook and eat the locals. There isn’t anything else beside humans here! My only option is to make broths using roots and local herbs. Then, I have a crazy idea that I decide to try out.

I make a lake. Yes, I really am crazy! I just about die from the recoil of the magic, notwithstanding the health pool that ritual magic has given me.

My experience with the mountain has stuck with me, back when the light exploded, highly concentrated in a single point. I use that to create a pit before shooting Water Magic into it. Then, I melt the ice, and it’s only at that point that I add life. After three hours of shooting maximally charged Life Magic at the lake, I realize that it’s madness.

There are fish in the lake! Mama, I’m going to make fish soup! Using an astral bow is practically cheating. On the other hand, who else could use it?

The next month is peaceful as I work on my fisherman skills. I really hope I can go fishing with father again. Hell, the forest, the lake, fishing…and peace. I spend all my free time working on my shooting, fishing, and cooking.

The forest turns out beautifully. Animals even start to show up. Little ones at first, and then larger ones. Bots start to visit the shadow of the trees. I have a feeling that the misers and profligates who show up are going to turn into new Hell elves. Their contemplative nature is perfect.

I spend the whole month looking for recipes that will boost my intellect. The only option is to try the potions, seasonings, and ingredients on myself. As it turns out, you can even use your own blood to cook with. I try bark, wood, roots, leaves, fruit, herbs, minerals, animal organs, bones…everything. So many patterns reveal themselves as I first try all the ingredients and see what kind of effect they have. Then, I combine them, everything together first, and then in a particular order. It’s at that point that I figure out a rule: you start by boiling bones. When the broth takes on their qualities, you add the next ingredient the same way. If you boil the mixture for too long, you lose the effect. Different ingredients take different times to cook, so you have to keep everything in mind: time, temperature, and order.

Great intellect potion

A potion-brewing master made this potion. It boosts intellect by 20 for 30 minutes.

Effect:

Intellect +20

Duration:

30 minutes

Hm, that’s not much. What if I let it boil for a while longer to steam off some of the liquid?

Concentrated intellect potion

A potion-brewing master made this potion. It boosts intellect by 50 for 45 minutes.

Effect:

Intellect +50

Duration:

45 minutes

Still, that’s not it. To start off with, I use my own blood to avoid level limitations and make sure the effect isn’t cut. I boil the mixture in clay pots. To sum up what I’ve learned, all the elements of the potion affect the brain, mostly stimulating it. But I need a catalyst to intensify the effect. For humans, that’s the balance of salt in the body, so I need oxidizing minerals.

I end up doing some digging, tearing down mountains in search of salt deposits. One mountain smells like the real deal, making my nose twitch, and the aroma is especially coming from one small crevice. I raze the mountain, making a pit where it used to be. Blood malachite and moon quartz! I decide to go deeper to see what else I can find. There’s a round deposit of some kind of salt I can’t identify - perfect.

Salt does, indeed, turn out to be the key. The malachite and quartz crumble in my hands to melt beautifully in a pot full of blood. The malachite melts instantly, turning into blood, while the quartz salt takes much longer. Still, what a result!

Quintessential intellect potion

The master who brewed this potion was a genius. It gives you 30 intellect permanently.

Effect:

Intellect +30

Duration:

Permanent

It’s just a shame that I don’t have a craftsman skill. If I did, I could get much more. As it is, my well-developed potion-brewing skill gives me +200% on the effect of the potions I brew. I can’t find any more salt, though, no matter how many days I spend leveling mountains. The malachite does some good, at least. I settle for that.

Superior intellect spell

A potion-brewing master made this potion. It boosts your intellect by 100 for one hour.

Effect:

Intellect +100

Duration:

1 hour

My inventory is full to overflowing, but I don’t even notice the overload. I pretty much always have a load that’s just 10% from the maximum. Lots of the things I picked up in the other circles went to boosting my sewing, and it took me just three weeks to get my carpenter profession to 250. I need to sew myself a new bag now. It’s so nice not having to carry it around with me - technically. It hangs in the air, completely invisible. If I want, I can grab it or make it visible.

But for that, I had to risk a ritual sacrifice. I needed a really big bag, and the ones you normally make just don’t cut it. Blood magic and ritual magic are the only things that help.

I changed the seal again, wondering if that would have any effect on the item I’m creating. A hundred and eight victims fit in a four-level pentagram, and I decided to go with mages.

Dirac spatial bag

A great artifact mage decided to make an entire laboratory in his bag. He went missing, but the bag is still with us.

Effect: 100 item slots. Identical items can be combined in one slot, and each slot is a dimensionless shelf.

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

What’s a week of punishment in comparison with picking up something like that? Nothing! I can carry a metric ton around, and I don’t have the normal restrictions on how many items I can have in one slot. Of course, I decide not to push my luck and earn the next punishment, which I’m told will be an entire month. But I so want to…

I kind of got hung up in this circle of Hell. It’s been twelve months in the game for me, and four and a half of them have been spent here. I turned thirteen. It’s going to be another two months, and that’s no good.

It’s like rage gives me power. Yes! The fortress is in sight, and the mental damage I’m taking is skyrocketing. Everybody’s always fighting, and I can barely get around with all the bodies on the ground.

Damage taken: 801100 (ignored: 333878)

363226/780130

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 334771/second

I can heal a whole 89000 health every second. It’s a madhouse all around me though, and I’m feeling so aggressive that I just want to kill everyone. Meditation is all that helps me get through the outbursts of rage. I know how I’m going to get even with that crystal on top of the fortress. I’m going to steal it! After cutting down the island, I grab the diamond. What’s a beauty like that doing up in the sky anyway? It won’t do any more damage in the area, but I can definitely use it to store mana.

A month! This really is Hell. The only way I’m able to make it through is by focusing on how much I want that crystal. Finally, I’m standing under the walls of the fortress, taking aim at my target. Just in case, I boosted the number of victims I sacrificed to get my health to two million. Fire! The island is reduced to rubble, though the gem isn’t harmed. The same isn’t true for me though: the recoil takes off a million and a half health.

Scattered rock is all that’s left of the island, and the crystal, whole and intact, comes flying toward me. The damage from the aura is gone.

Fly to me, my precious!

I dig down into the ground up to my knees, and that’s with my demon appearance! Then, I have to break the artifact into eight pieces so I can get it into my bag. Finally, I turn to the fortress.

It turns out to be abandoned. There’s nothing and nobody inside, just bare stone walls.

On the other side, there’s an enormous hole. That’s where I’m going! Climbing down would be silly, so I just leap in.

Current location: Fifth Circle of Hell. Stygian swamps.

Crossing

What do you think when you see a river enshrouded in murky darkness? Do you want to go for a drink, dive in, or try some fishing? Well, the name of this one, the Styx, practically screams at me to try drinking from it. I find myself on a small island. On the one side, there’s darkness, on the other, the river. I look for a dock, figuring that the guard will be coming that way in a boat. I’m exactly right.

Stygian Brigand, Flegius, Level 450

He’s a guy wearing a gray chlamys and holding a large oar.

By the time he gets there, I’ve figured out that I can step into the river. I completely ignore the 500000 mental damage, and the souls that brush against my body just tickle. It’s a deep river, which I use to my advantage.

When Flegius gets to about thirty meters from the bank, I jump in. I’m in my demon appearance, and I’m completely strengthened. I’m also great at my zigzag jumps.

“Pay the toll” is all he has time to say. My blow is terrible, landing with my knee just as he tries to use a fist. We both topple into the water with a splash.

I’m not sure if he’s ever had anyone fight back like me, but nobody’s going to be giving me a second chance. I dolphin-kick over to him and grab him by the leg.

I can go without oxygen for four and a half minutes, which is what I’m counting on. It works. As the second minute ticks away, Flegius starts flailing and gulping water. He jerks, trying to break free, though I keep pulling him down to the bottom. My demonic appearance in the river of souls is far more terrifying than the old boatman. I’m using every advantage I can to beat what is a powerful enemy. Finally, I’m successful.

The loot I get from him is…a ticket.

Ticket

Gives one soul the right to cross the Styx River in Flegius’ boat.

He’s even mocking me in death! I couldn’t care less about his river.

As I step out onto the bank, I pull out my map. I got across the Styx, but now I’m in the Stygian swamps. This circle is much smaller than the last one, so I should be able to get to the next hole in less than a day if I run as fast as I can.

Unfortunately, I overestimated myself. Running across the swamp, which has bodies instead of a bottom, is really hard, especially as there are people fighting everywhere. As soon as one battle finishes, the next one starts. New fighters pop up right out of the swamp, going on and on forever. I can’t feel a particular aura of rage, just a wild fire of anger and fury. If the shroud were right next to me, I would say that Lord Rage was right on the other side of it. I’m wrong again though: he’s everywhere, he’s the darkness swimming right in the water. I look closer, and the darkness looks back at me with blood-red eyes.

I run without thinking of anything. Brigands slaughter the fighting sinners, and I surge by them with large leaps. I do have to change my running style. I wish I could run across water. That probably has something to do with telekinesis and requires energy every second.

The closer I get to the center of the circle, the stronger I feel the swamp pulling me in. The drowned people lying on the bottom grab at my legs, making it harder for me to run. I fall, get up, and keep running. Rain starts falling, cries ring out from the fights going on all around me, and a fog spreads across the swamp. Visibility drops to two meters. I have to change something.

I need to find a way through the swamp that doesn’t have bodies getting in my way, and I have to be able to see where I’m going. An arrow fired with weak healing creates an impassable forest. I need something else…and this is going to be fun! Awful, very awful, but fun.

I grow out the forest even more. It takes me three days until I get the size I’m looking for. I need a large, dry space. So, I create it under the roots of one of the gigantic trees. There, I get to work using necro-chimerology. It’s a shame I’m not allowed to make sacrifices, though nobody said anything about chimerology or necromancy. The emanations of death are a great source of energy, even if they are tricky to work with.

For four weeks, I work, and I start to look crazed. Even back in the orphanage cafeteria, my smile kind of terrifies the other kids. It looks like what I’m doing in Project Chrysalis is starting to affect who I really am. But it’s so much fun creating dead creatures, flesh terrors, bone hounds, ghouls, zombies, and other spawn of necromancy. What do I feel when I give dead flesh a semblance of life? Happiness, and the power of the creator. They don’t talk, but I feel each of them. They bow to me thanks to my blood magic.

I only get the chimerology skill after my fiftieth chimera. I destroy them all, every last one. My altar of chimerology reeks of dark magic, and even the aura of death appears. Mental damage can’t touch me, though it can absolutely get into my head.

The three-volume series on chimerology was written in blood with detailed examples and ways to interact with blood magic. That’s enough to get anyone going! I create something terrifying that straddles the border between chimerology and necromancy, none of the books on the dark arts covering anything like it. I just happen to guess, based on how incomplete the seals are, that a ritual like this is possible. But what does a concentrated burst of necroenergy get you? Creating scalable personal items using your own blood takes a three-level seal. The five-sided contour on the outside offers the primary energy, while each subsequent contour enables you to control it and imprint that on the enchanted item. But I only realized that you can expand the seal to the fourth contour when I finished studying the books on chimerology from cover to cover. Thinking in several streams at once makes it easy to add what’s missing. The seal wasn’t complete, and it required a grand master in chimerology, necromancy, and blood magic. I’m taking a huge risk, but I want to do this… My intelligence calls for a seeker! I follow it.

I need a lot of space for a seal this big, so I go back to feeding energy into the tree I’m under. It gets so big, it reaches the clouds. There are plenty of bodies and lots of water in the soil, meaning that it can grow quickly.

There are five large seals, one each at the tips of a star, and another at its center, six in total. It takes a week for me to draw the whole thing in blood because it keeps disappearing after twelve hours. To see the whole thing, I have to stand in the middle and jump. But I did it! Luckily, one thing that’s different about the fifth circle of Hell is that the bodies don’t disappear. They decompose, but that takes a full month. I already checked.

In a word, it took me a long time to prepare: two months preparation, a week handling the details. But finally, I’m done, I got some sleep, and I had something to eat. Let’s do this!

***

Eliza was giving a seminar on social education for girls. Since they often get caught up with the wrong crowd, you have to teach them how to protect themselves.

It was a routine seminar with a group of girls she’d already been working with. They’d been coming for weeks and could expect their level of citizenship to be bumped up when they finished their studies and got their qualification.

“Miss Donovan, excuse me. It’s an emergency. Anji is doing necromancy.” Moro contacted Eliza via the infonet during the seminar, having created a screen in the auditorium.

“What, he’s raising corpses?”

“I wouldn’t have bothered you over something like that.”

“Then, what’s the problem? Mass sacrifices again?” She stopped. “No, you would have told me that right away. Okay, out with it.”

“Anji made a pentagram that covers more than a square kilometer. He’s using blood magic and necromancy, and it’s hard to say what end result he’s going for.”

“But we told him he can’t do mass sacrifices! What is he trying to do on that scale?”

“I’m not sure. I counted 2500 corpses he’s using as energy sources.”

“Oh, god, did he slaughter a whole city? Bring him here this instant!”

“I can’t, the ritual has already begun. It took me a while to collect the facts since the seal is so big.”

“Mm…” Eliza grabbed her head, almost as if she had a toothache. “Show me.”

The boy was covered in blood and sitting in the center of an enormous magic symbol. Mysterious writing covered every inch of his body, and his left hand held onto a bracelet on his right arm.

The corpses were disintegrating into dust, which formed into a black cloud and migrated between the levels of the seal, going from circle to circle to draw the energy of death into the center. The blood seal was so powerful that it was starting to catch fire. Finally, all the energy gathered in the center and was swallowed up by the magic symbols on the boy’s body.

***

I’m thrown back into the astral, where I’m greeted by the howl of thousands of souls. A minute later, an enormous island forms, and I am thrown onto it with incredible speed. If it wasn’t for my instantaneous healing and empowered body, I would have died from the impact. My whole mental body senses creatures looking at me. They’re so great, their wrath and scorn burn all the way through me.

“I don’t care what you think! I’m going to do it!”

The only response I get is a barrage of corpses pouring down on me from the sky. They’re shooting at me! I use a large, flat rock as a shield, as catching one on the head might be enough to kill me, though the rock soon starts to crack.

Soon, I realize that it isn’t zombies raining down; it’s demon-possessed bodies. They’re all maxed out on mana, too.

I have to do more than just kill them, I have to burn their bodies. I batter them, break them, set them alight. Every fire arrow turns one of my enemies into ash that will never harm me ever again.

As soon as I finish off the demon-possessed bodies, a river of other beasts pours out of the astral and heads in my direction. I’m hit with magic, arrows, spears, swords, cold, fire, and rocks. I lose track of time. Giving up is not an option.

A lone cliff is the only high point on the island, and thirty-meter leaps take me there. I find myself on the tip, grab my bow, and start shooting. The charge I put into each arrow, however, is so strong that the astral itself starts vibrating and drifting. As I fire down at everyone trying to get to me at the top of the cliff, I dodge large projectiles. The arrows and magic being fired at me bounce off harmlessly.

Finally, the battle breaks in my favor and the enemy starts to retreat. As soon as the island is empty, I go back to feeling the angry glances being cast in my direction.

“You think I’m afraid of you? You think you can kill me just because you want to? I don’t care who you are, and I’m going to get what I want!”

In answer, an unknown power tears the island in half, something like a sword. At the last moment, I catch a glimpse of the blade’s owner, somebody heading right toward me, but then I’m pulled out of the astral. Wait, what? My opponent turns out to be me, only in my demon appearance and with a sword in my hand. The blade flashes, and I’m sure that it’s on par with my bow. I’m flooded with the yearning to take it for myself.

Astral bone sword

A chimerologist wanted to create a sword that would be the personification of himself. It is linked to both the soul and the body of its master, being no less than another of his body parts.

Effect: Lets you create spells and imbue your sword with them. The durability of the sword depends on your stamina level, and the maximum charge is equal to your mana. The speed at which you can empower it depends on your morale.

Requirement: Non-level ability

That isn’t an item; it’s a chimeric skill. So, I was almost killed in the astral with my own sword? I created something beautiful, wonderful, and surpassingly powerful. It had to have been my sword on the island, which means it had to have been me.

***

The boy left the astral seventy-five hours later, having spent almost four days in the capsule. The orphanage cocoons weren’t designed for that, so he was hospitalized as soon as he got out. He then spent two days at the hospital. Eliza, in turn, slept for almost a full day after her seminar.

After this incident, the boy’s punishment was to spend almost six months away from Project Chrysalis. He sent a full report on child rights to the people in charge, however, indicating what the maximum punishment could be. Vaalsie gave him a month on top of that for breaking the rules governing the capsule, but the boy was still over the moon that he was only getting two months.

***

Anji spent those two months well, passing all the exams he had lined up for the next three years of study. One requirement for getting citizenship was a minimum level of education.

***

It’s been fourteen months since I started playing Project Chrysalis, and I still remember the smell of father’s tobacco and the taste of mama’s cooking. I even feel thankful to Rachel and Bernard for sending me here. Eliza was right: my karma in the project would have dropped drastically after what I’ve done, only there are no gods here to curse me. There’s only me, the sinners, and the devil. My abilities have grown in leaps and bounds, I’ve been able to drive far past what I used to be limited to, and I have my skills, my magic, my forbidden arts… I’ve well surpassed even my own expectations. That wouldn’t have happened in the regular project lands. There aren’t places there that do the same continual physical damage as the auras in Hell. There are only a few places where there are monsters above Level 1000, too. I’ve covered all the weaknesses I brought with me from that world, though I lost what was most important to me: my parents and friends.

As soon as I log into the game, I decide to look at what I was able to make. I pull the sword out of my right palm with my left hand.

The weapon doesn’t have a guard. It’s a bone blade with a small hilt. I can infuse it with magic, turning it a cold white color, and a mere wish is all it takes for the built-up energy to fly out in a shock wave that works like any other blade. Fire, darkness, light - the energy can take any form. The only problem is that I can’t use the sword to heal. That makes sense though, as does the fact that the strike can’t take the physical form of water or earth. It’s basically the bow, just without the recoil issue.

My astral double was able to hew the island in half, though all I can cut into is a root. Of course, it is three meters across. My double is probably really high-level, so he could have killed me with one blow if he hadn’t been busy with his tomfoolery. Or was that just a warning? Either way, I’m better off not facing certain death in the astral anymore.

They told me I couldn’t do any more of those rituals, though I’ll bet they won’t punish me for creating a bone hound. It ends up being seven meters tall, made to look like Cerberus, and it bounds across the swamp until it gets to the hole and dives in with me.

Current location: Sixth Circle of Hell. Graveyard of the City of Dis.

Fields of Ash

Sadly, the dog doesn’t make it through with me. I’m by myself. But this is what people think of when they think of hell. Everything around me is burning, even the earth. If I hadn’t built up the amount of damage I can ignore back in the first circle, I’d have died the second I got here.

Damage taken: 50000 (ignored: 280515)

22560/22560

And this is the periphery! I can’t imagine what it must be like in the center. Oh, and there’s the guard. He isn’t alone, however. There are three figures, each of which reminds me of Miss Donovan.

Unfortunately for them, they turn their back on me. I’m not about to play fair with three opponents at Level 550.

I climb into one of the graves, where I find that the fire damage is much higher, reaching 150000. That’s okay though, since I need a second to prepare for my shot.

Even though I give it the maximum charge, I only kill one of them. The other two are stunned, and I kill them with ordinary spells. There was no way I was going to be able to pull off a second shot with the bow, and I wasn’t about to die by making a stupid mistake like that.

I get two rings and earrings from them.

This circle is very different to the others. The sinners here are constantly being tormented by fire coming right from their graves. They die and are reborn over and over again.

I’m drenched in sweat, notwithstanding my advanced resistance to fire. The local furies are Level 400, and I have to collect victims one by one for my combined health ritual.

I walk up to the walls of the City of Dis. They tower above me at the very center of the circle, and the intense heat means I can only use demons. The local sinners die frequently too.

Experience is a beautiful thing. I’m able to boost my fire resistance and get to the next hole in just two weeks. Taking 500000 fire damage starts to feel normal, even if it’s still hard to breath.

The hole is right next to the city, on the other side. I jump in, and that’s when the fun starts.

I’m dropped right into a pool of boiling blood. Can’t see a thing! When I break the surface, centaurs start shooting arrows at me.

That turns out to be a big mistake. One dolphin kick, and I’m flying out of the water and at one of them. He wasn’t expecting that kind of agility from a sinner, and he definitely wasn’t expecting a charged sword.

I take him out with one sweep of my sword, hurl destruction spikes at the second, and then tackle the third straight into a ditch.

I get a bow and some arrows in with the loot.

Then, I check out my mini map.

Current location: Seventh Circle of Hell. First Belt. Phlegethon.

Pits of Boiling Blood

Ooh, this is brutal! There are guards at every turn, three of them, in fact. Whatever, time for a bath, a bath of blood.

Back in the Middle Ages, on Earth, there was a countess who bathed in blood. She has to be somewhere around here. It isn’t bad, regardless, and I even find it kind of relaxing thanks to my 550000 resistance to all kinds of thermal damage. It’s thick and warm… I’m almost overcome with the feeling, having long since become accustomed to hearing screams all around me.

I find the exit to the next belt at the bottom of an enormous pool of blood. Actually, it’s more like a lake of blood, just with a passageway to the next belt where the bottom should be.

Current location: Seventh Circle of Hell. Second Belt. Suicide Forest.

Copse

My guess was that I was going to be dropped into a city, but I turn out to be in a forest with trees growing out of the bodies of still-living sinners. Flaming dogs chase those of them who are still able to run. Up in the trees, there are harpies sitting and giving me unpleasant looks.

I’m not even counting the number of demons I’ve killed here. In fact, I only stop killing them when they stop coming after me. Harpies are weak opponents, though they’re much nimbler than what I’m used to. Of course, their agility doesn’t stand much of a chance when I stun them in midair. At one point, it’s practically raining harpies, and killing them when they’re stunned is easy. I’m also happy to be hit by lightning. I haven’t taken any electric damage in four months.

The trees are odd here. They have faces. Maybe, they’re relatives of that walk-tree. Just to see what will happen, I shoot one of them with weak healing. The misery being experienced by the man under the tree stops, though the tree itself comes after me. I don’t bother burning it, instead chopping it in half and breaking off some branches. These will be a great present for father to replace the branches he gave me. I gather some of its fruit and decide to take revenge on the harpies for attacking me. In the neighboring grove, there’s a few dozen of the evil creatures, so I stun them, drop a seed on each, and shoot an arrow with weak healing. Huh, the trees take the face of their victim, complete with their death grimace!

What’s the first rule of any circle of Hell?

Always head to the center.

Current location: Seventh Circle of Hell. Third Belt. Flammable Sands.

Desert

For the second time in this circle, I take thermal damage. I’m in the middle of a desert. All around, sinners burn, while a fiery rain pours down from the sky. I’m burning, too, though I don’t really mind. The damage is minimal. If it were lava, that would be different, but a little fire rain doesn’t bother me.

The closer I get to the center of the circle, the stronger the downpour. Right at the edge of the border, the fire is blue, set against blood-red flashes in the sky. Beautiful!

And there is the hole leading to the next circle of Hell.

Current location: Eighth Circle of Hell. First Belt. Eternal Crossing.

Path of Pain

The entire eighth circle is boring after the chimerology and necromancy tricks I pulled. The only thing worth mentioning is my encounter with Geryon, a fight that took a whole day. The death machine’s only weaknesses are his sluggishness and nine-meter height. In close combat, he’s a Level 700 monster with six arms and six legs, the kind that’s impossible to beat. Three shields, three spears. I have to keep running away and shooting back at him with my bow, and the only reason he dies is because I’m able to shatter one of his shields. I get the other two in with the loot. When I first saw him, I thought I was going to die. Actually, my very first thought was that he was a statue. But the way he waved those spears around… He hit me, too, though I was able to block the hit and mitigate the damage in my demon appearance.

It takes me two weeks to get through the tenth belt, what with having to deal with innumerable diseases. I take 75000 damage to both my physical and mental bodies at the same time, and that’s just from the shroud.

The belts get so narrow that I can see the other side after just six hours of running. Between them, there’s a shroud full of air, thick with the stink of decay. If it weren’t for the guards, I would stay here longer.

This is where I first see the classic devils armed with pitchforks. It takes me a while, but I’m finally able to “convince” a pair of them to boost my resistance by combining our health pools. Their Level 600 is almost too much for me, though blood magic and seals tip the scale in my favor. In other words, one ritual goes to help the other. Stun spikes work on the devils, though they don’t last very long at all.

I spend the whole two weeks in the shroud boosting my mental and physical damage resistance to 1100000. It’s just a good thing that there isn’t any poison here, or I’d die without even noticing it.

Geronimo!

Current location: Ninth Circle of Hell. Lake Cocytus.

Bank

Suddenly, I’m reminded of Death. It gave me the same sense of power.

There’s somebody I don’t know dressed in odd clothing and standing at the very center of the lake. The distance from the shroud to the center of the circle is actually so short that I can see him immediately, and that means that I feel his power, feel him watching me. We’re ten kilometers away from each other, though I can still tell that his eyes are fixed on me. What strength!

He looks human. He’s wearing something like a t-shirt and a light vest, and the shorts fit in well with the look. But he feels like an enemy, and I’m afraid he’ll kill me if I come any closer.

I don’t see an aura crystal in this circle. It looks like the guy over there is the origin of the power. The air quivers, snow falls, and space is distorted. And I can sense all this from ten kilometers away.

I’m grabbed by an invisible current and drawn toward him. As I go, I see pits between us, not to mention Level 900 titans that stand a hundred meters tall. They watch me go indifferently, as if I’m already dead. Then, they go back to stomping on the faces frozen into the ice.

Suddenly, I’m right next to him.

I don’t see a name, which is unusual for a bot. He’s no longer radiating power; he’s just standing there looking at me. Snow starts falling on the both of us.

“Congratulations, Sagie, your trials are complete, and you can return to your world. You can’t take anything you’ve found or made here, however. Your physical attributes will revert back to what they were before you were sent to Hell.”

“...”

I feel like I’m going to die. Everything I’ve done here is lost. But what can I do? All he would have to do to kill me is to wish it, and I would be powerless. Just one thought! If he released the power he had pent up, I would be a goner.

“Goodbye.” My body starts melting into a stream of light.

***

The person standing in the middle of the lake smiled and turned to the block of ice to his right. His expression was forceful, his body muscular, his clothes rich, his movements smooth.

“Stop hiding. Come here and sit down.” With one motion, he created two benches and a table laden with food.

The illusion of ice faded, and the three people hiding behind it merged into one. By the time they’d moved over to the bench, they were indeed one person.

“Why didn’t you let me talk with him? I had every right to! And why drag him here through all the belts?”

“What if he’d killed the titans?”

“How? He hasn’t even finished the first level, and their power is on a par with the gods’! They’re only Level 900 here. If they found their way to the world of men, they’d jump straight up to Level 9000.”

“Set, how did you even get here? You weren’t keeping track of his trials.”

The odd fellow with the hair jutting up just shrugged.

“I did exactly what I was supposed to do: I tortured the sinners in the ice, the worst of them, obviously. Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just a few eensie-weensie issues.” The man did nothing to hide his emotion, and started counting on his fingers. There was an expression of rage on his face. “During the first trial, he hid from the guards, and then Death itself noticed him. He found Death’s throwing spike without even knowing it. That should tell you a little something about how capable he is of killing the titans. That isn’t the only thing he could have used, either, regardless of what level he’s at. He doesn’t feel auras of power anymore. He boosted his resistance gradually. Then, he found the guards and tortured both them and their helpers.”

“How? They’re even stronger.”

“He paralyzed them and pinned them to the ground.” The man ticked off one finger.

“Kids these days…”

“Have you forgotten how to think? That’s just the beginning. He killed the succubus, and then he flew right over the fields of strength.”

Set pulled actual, real cigarettes out of his pocket, the kind that didn’t exist in the game world.

“He’s from one of the flying races? I haven’t gotten any of those so far. They haven’t been unlocked yet, I thought.”

“He made a pair of wings for himself.” After waiting for a reaction, the man continued. “And off he flew! There wasn’t a single flying creature in the entire zone. Nobody uses the air to move around in the fields of strength, and the boy used that to his advantage.”

“It would have been simpler if he’d just used shields.”

“Kids aren’t allowed to use things like that in their world. They just changed that six months ago, though there are still a few conditions.”

“Well, I’ll be… And what happened then?”

“The second thing,” the man replied, ticking off another finger. “He came across Cerberus, though he jumped onto the dog’s neck and started choking him out. Cerberus realized what was going on and tossed Sagie, though the boy just killed the dog with one blow. He created eleven charges and crushed the dog’s ribcage.”

“How did someone in their first level learn tricks like that?”

“You idiot! That trial was created to develop the participants’ mental capacities. Have you done nothing? Did you read the officer instructions you were sent for that level? I guess not, otherwise, you would’ve known.”

“Calm down, calm down,” Set said. “We’ll resurrect the dog. He isn’t an officer, so what does he have to be mad about?”

“Oh, absolutely! Why would anyone get angry about a little thing like that? Then, he spent a month swimming around the trial zone, having fun where people usually rot alive. He dropped down and killed the next guard, too. He even killed the guard in the same way the guard usually kills his victims - beat him to death after pinning his whole body to the ground with stakes. After that, he used the souls of sinners to create semi-intelligent items. The grand finale was a weapon so strong that he could have activated it and destroyed the entire trial zone. The keeper noticed and sent a hint to the boy via the astral that he should go easy with that, though he just disappeared for two months before showing up again to grow a forest you haven’t noticed yet. He stole a power crystal, too, and you didn’t see. Then, he just walked on to the next trial. That’s when they called me, telling me we might have our first candidate. So, who was supposed to make sure the trials were beaten correctly?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you! If it weren’t for you, I’d still be off relaxing, but no, I’ve had to spend four months getting here. I still have nine years of relaxation left. Oh, by the way, he drowned the boatman in the Styx, and he created another one of those weapons in the swamps. That…that person…he didn’t even realize how powerful it was. The keeper got involved, though the boy figured out that something was wrong while the keeper was creating an avatar to have a chat with him, and told him to go screw himself. That’s when I got here. I had a hard time convincing them not to kill the boy, though I promised I’d take his weapons to make sure he doesn’t threaten the balance in their world. Then, the kid disappeared for another two months. The keeper finally calmed down at that point.”

“Hey, he isn’t here from the workshop, is he? That’s not how you’d expect someone from their world to do things.”

“No, I checked that. What I’m wondering is how you missed losing two and a half thousand souls.”

“I was busy having a philosophical conversation with a spirit.”

“Mm…” The boss practically moaned in frustration at his underling’s stupidity. “Sagie drowned the guards in blood, and then shot them with his bow. And he’s so used to monotony and serenity that he didn’t even notice anything. He beat the rest of the trials by activating his weapon.”

“So, you came to meet him so he didn’t kill me accidentally? And you sent him back after taking from him everything he picked up in the trial zones?”

“Yep.”

“Thanks. And what about the keeper?”

“He let him go. The boy beat the trials, and his punishment was having everything he had made and found taken from him. I even turned his body back to the way it was. He didn’t get a reward.”

“It sounds like their world is starting to move, Idzumi.” Set relaxed and looked up at the sky, which was where the light was coming from.

“Yes, and you need to correct your carelessness. The director didn’t get involved in the trial when the boy found his spike, and you could’ve died. Death knows that, too. It’s a hint. Have you figured that out yet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, then I’m off. I imagine we’ll be seeing each other again.”

Idzumi, or Lucifer, stood up, drank the rest of what was in his cup, and melted into the stream of light coming from the sky. He was off to see the director. That world has a saying: Death doesn’t wait.

End of Part One

Part Two

Prelude to War

Tiamat paced the room in anticipation. That day, the first chosen one had a shot at completing the trials. Even with his five-meter height and poorly concealed power, the director was graceful, appearing to soar across the ground. His aura of strength had a black tinge, giving him a terrifying look. Everybody saw him as a man in a black hood. Even those beneath him feared him, not to mention ordinary people. The gods lost their power just by coming near him; ordinary people died instantly or fell into a panic. He’d only ever used his weapon, a scythe, a few times in that world, but even that had been enough to change the shape of several continents. Only four beings could match him in strength. Three had already left, and Idzumi, second in strength in that world, was scheduled to arrive that day. But the director wasn’t nervous about an upcoming duel.

A year and a half before, Tiamat had been hunting in the shroud for relaxation. One of his throwing spikes had flown out of the shroud and fallen into the border with the trial zone, where one of the test subjects had picked it up. He hadn’t wanted to give it up voluntarily, and Tiamat didn’t step into the trial zone. He didn’t want to disturb the trials and kill the subject with a blast of power. All Tiamat did was grant the subject’s soul to be taken to the Gray Lands if he died in the trial zone. It would have been easy enough for Tiamat to pick up his spike there.

The boy had just approached Set’s territory, and his using the spike could have killed Set. The boss’s inadvertent misstep had created the opportunity to bring about the death of one of his officers. That was what the keeper was worried about. “Impeccable, pedantic Tiamat had made a mistake.” Right then, however, even the keeper wanted to punish the kid for all his violations.

Idzumi stepped into the office and immediately said exactly what Tiamat had been waiting to hear.

“Set is alive. I cut the trial short. It was too dangerous. The keeper said I could.”

“Ooph.” Tiamat sat down in his chair and turned to the window and the slumbering depths of the ocean on the other side. A second chair appeared beside him, and Idzumi sat down. “Nobody was killed?”

“No. As soon as the subject appeared in the trial zone, I brought him over. The titans are all in one piece, and the guards on the other levels have already been restored.” Idzumi looked out at the underwater world, too. “You’re still in this office?”

“It’s the only place in this world, where I don’t always have to contain my strength. And you’re the only one who can be next to me and see my real image, all without the black hood everyone else sees. So, what about the subject?”

“Oh, the keeper practically killed him. The boy used his opponents to create an activatable weapon, though he’s not supposed to be able to go past a specific threshold without the permission of his parents or until he turns eighteen. They had already fixed that. But just the fact that he was able to become stronger with each level he beat was scary—he was able to boost his resistance so high that he could move around the final part of the eighth trial zone without a problem. Can you imagine what would have happened if he’d used the full potential of that weapon?”

“Yeah, really. I watched his battle in the astral. The keeper was so furious with how cocky he was, not to mention all his infractions, that he smashed the island and summoned subjects from other worlds. The boy just started shooting all of them with his bow. Then, the other subjects fell back, unable to do anything. The keeper was livid, sending out one of his officers with the boy’s own sword. If you hadn’t gotten involved, we would have lost our first potential chosen one.”

“That problem is taken care of now. The weapon has been taken away until ten similar items have been created in the world or until the boy gets to a higher-order world. The second option will probably happen first. There isn’t anyone capable of creating weapons like that. The gods are supposed to keep track of their wards, too.”

The coffee maker whistled, and Tiamat poured coffee into cups. Fifteen hundred cycles had gone by, and he still had the same habits when it came to food and drinks.

“What do the locals think of that? Was Akashi able to pull off what he was thinking about?” Tiamat may have been responsible for the world, but he didn’t care much about those who had left it.

“Oh, absolutely. He created his own nation: Lunar. His entire team, along with everyone who left the crossroads of worlds, are living separately on one of their planet’s moons. Lunar is selling access to it, claiming to be the developers. Really, they just localized it, although, many who got to the crossroads do the same thing.”

“They certainly didn’t make much of a first impression, but he outdid everything anyone could have imagined.”

“Don’t worry, Tiamat. You think we were nasty to take away the boy’s power and weapons.” Hot coffee and cookies made Idzumi talkative, and Tiamat knew that. He’d been missing the chatterbox.

“Yep.”

“The whole artificial level was created to boost the intellectual abilities of the chosen ones. If they get through, they can leave with the skills and abilities they’ve earned relative to their intellect. If they die, they lose everything and have to create a new character. The plan was to have well-coordinated groups go through the trials and move farther in together. Nobody planned to have a chosen one show up and beat Hell, boosting his resistance over a year and a half local time. The other groups and lone chosen ones didn’t have the same wisdom and patience. We left what is most valuable: skills, smarts, and experience.”

“But an activatable weapon! Do you realize how many we’ve had beat the trials with one of those?”

“I do. You’re underestimating the boy, though. He’s a smart one. He’s the exception to the rule. If I’m right, he’ll be able to pick up much more than he lost. We left him a certain something, too.”

***

A light sea breeze ruffles my long hair. I have grown over the past year and a half. I’m more muscular now, a little taller, and there is even some gray hair on my crown. My arms are very strong.

All I have in my inventory is the sack of books. All my rings and weapons are gone. But I’m alive! And almost home. My home, father, mama… I’m coming!

My map shows me that I’m on the other side of the world though. The fact that the in-game planet is three times the size of Earth means that it would take at least a month to swim that far, and that’s at my speed. Although, I’m not too excited about something eating me in the Ocean of Terror. That’s exactly what it’s called.

Achievement received: Titanbane. First rank.

Kill an opponent fifty levels higher than you.

Reward: +5 to all attributes

.....

Achievement received: Titanbane. Fourteenth rank.

Kill an opponent seven hundred levels higher than you.

Reward: +5 to all attributes

Achievement received: Styx Swimmer.

Anyone who can get across the Styx is a hero. The river offers the bravest some of its abilities.

Reward: One of Our Own, an ability that means all spirits will take you as one of their own

Achievement received: Genius.

You conquered all conceivable self-improvement goals twice over!

Reward: Access to probation with the Hunters

The probation will begin in seven months and fifteen days in the city of Zirda.

Go to the Three Solo Trips and order three portions of Koryak mussels.

Skill received: Body Power.

This skill lets you empower part of your body with an additional magic stimulus for your nerve endings. Using it costs mana and health due to the strain placed on your body.

Body enhancement: +1

Body enhancement effect: +1%

Well, I got achievements as soon as I left. There’s some logic there, I guess. The devil said something about a trial, so you only get rewards at the end.

“Naïve children! They think they can stop me by taking away what I collected? Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 90

Agility: 90

Stamina: 90

Intellect: 90

Wisdom: 90

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 90

Athleticism: 90

Morale: 90

Survivability: 90

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 45 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 225 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 900 (wisdom*10)

Health: 900 (stamina*10)

Strength: 900 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 900/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 900/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 900/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 36 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 1.72% (damage ignored: up to 421/second)

Poison: 1.27% (damage ignored: up to 211/second)

Skills

Cooking: 250

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 250

Swimming: 250

Breath-holding: 250

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 250

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 166

Necromancy: 250

Chimerology: 250

Blood magic: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Artifact creation: 250

Body enhancement: 1

Professions

Herbalist: 250

Fisherman: 250

Tailor: 250

Blacksmith: 250

Carpenter: 250

Skills

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

One of our own

Gifts

Meeting deferred

I got +70 on all my attributes for that Titanbane and pat myself on the back for that. And I sure earned that Genius achievement. The Hunters intrigue me, especially since it could be a class I might have the ability to get earlier than I’m supposed to. If it’s a faction that not just anybody can join, even better.

They took my demon ability, though they gave me a replacement that will hurt me to use.

I’m going to have to work on my resistance again. I need a different way of adapting to this world. I’ll need at least one victim, preferably not somebody who follows someone from the main local pantheon, but with a lot of energy and a good spot well away from any temple. Nobody said anything about needing intelligent creatures to create a weapon, and I won’t technically be breaking any of Eliza’s rules.

Current location: Heron Island.

Beach

An old, gray-haired man in a robe points at me and says something.

“Gernu piri! A rgen tu moto.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Bere?”

Knowledge area: Haaron tongue +0.001%

The more often you hear and repeat languages you don’t know, the faster you learn them.

“Bere?” I repeat.

Thirty minutes later, we’re starting to understand each other. I’m naked, and that’s not considered respectable. I hand him a silver coin; he gives me something like shorts and a shirt.

Village children shorts

Shorts made from simple cotton. The last gasp of fashion for paupers.

Durability: 77/100

Village children shirt

Shabby child’s shirt.

Durability: 81/100

The old man’s name is Romul. He’s a local who enjoys walking along the beach in the morning, and that’s why he came across me. Even in the village, you’re not supposed to walk around naked. I answer the old man's questions about where I’m from and how I came to be here on the fishing island. The ship from the continent comes by once every two months, with forty days left until the next one. There are no taverns or inns. He does explain how to find lodging, however.

“Study professions and sign yourself out as an apprentice in the dockyard. Or go talk to the local blacksmith. He’s married to our local sorceress, so she might be able to help you out, too.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll probably start with the wharf.”

Romul walks off along the beach, leaving me to head toward the village. I can hear the hubbub of the docks from here.

The village itself is at the foothill of a mountain and reaches all the way out to the ocean. It’s populated with wood and clay buildings one or two stories high, and there’s a port with ten log piers. It’s all about the same as in my village.

I’m thrown for a loop at the wharfs, however, by a local brigadier who turns out to be a smart guy.

“Sagie, you have more strength and skills than anyone in the brigade, and you’re still a child. You’ve done more than they’ve done in their whole lives, so I can’t take you on as an apprentice. If you hadn’t mentioned your skills, I might have tried to figure something out.”

It’s unusual. The brigadier is protecting his workers’ self-esteem.

“Got it.” Perhaps, I shouldn’t have said anything, but he’s right. They would compare themselves to me and start to feel jealous. “I’ll head over to the blacksmith. Sorry to bother you.”

The brigadier pauses when he hears that.

“If you’re going to see the blacksmith, there’s something you can do for me. I never have time to pick up my nails. Could you get them for me?”

Quest received: Collect nails from the blacksmith.

Description: Brigadier Quartavius Caris needs you to pick up his order of nails from the blacksmith.

Reward: Variable

Refusal: A worsened relationship with Carius

“Sure, I can do that.”

You accepted a quest: Collect nails from the blacksmith.

“But where does he live?”

“Show me your map. I’ll draw it for you.” In a flash, he draws the entire ocean, complete with the surrounding waters. “My main skill is cartography. Being a brigadier is just a job, so drawing maps is more of a hobby than it used to be.”

The map turns out to be detailed with houses, roads, and labels. He even added a map of the currents. What kind of skill must that be for him to draw something that detailed so quickly?

I fish on the pier until morning, enjoying the smell of the wood and water, the easy, hand-made fishing pole. Light glistens off the waves. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. Even if I’m not in the big world, I’m happy. There are people here, good food, skills, professions. I’m not worried about what I lost at all. I’m just going to keep moving forward. I have something more than skills and attributes, after all. I have a family.

As it gets toward afternoon, boats start to sail in, coming back from their morning fishing. I fish for a couple more hours and quietly learn the Haaron tongue as they unload. I have time. There’s a quest, too, and a long wait until my probation with the Hunters.

I let the little fish go, just keeping the big ones. Thanks to my fisherman profession, which is all the way up to 250, I can catch anything. I can even land the nasty ones.

All day long, I sit on the pier, and suddenly, I have the urge to go for a swim. I pull off my clothes and dive in. Even though it’s getting on toward evening, I can see the bottom perfectly. My lanterns work underwater, and the four minutes I can hold my breath enables me to catch crabs.

I’m having so much fun that I almost drown. My dolphin kicks are a blast, the water flows past my body, and I feel weightless. Even after the sun goes down, I want to swim some more and go see the corals down at the bottom. Fish swim around them, and there are mollusks and plankton, too. Everything glows with phosphorescence.

After dropping down all the way to the bottom, I start opening mollusks. Without noticing it, I’d swum almost two kilometers away from the shore. So many pearls! They’re all different colors and sizes, and a Level 198 mollusk with a shining black shell grabs my attention. The poor guy tries to fight back, and then tries to eat me when I open it. Inside, there’s a black pearl the size of my fist. It’s the most valuable I’ve found, and I decide not to push fate. The nighttime predators are waking up, anyway, so it’s time to hurry back to the bank.

I spend the night sleeping on one of the piers.

Everything’s simple in real life. The psychologist has stopped getting on my case, and Vaalsie and his team of collectors is leaving me alone, too. I think the amount of attention the psychologist has been paying me scared him. My head pounds constantly, I often get nosebleeds, and sometimes, I read the material for next year’s studies just to relax. Fragments start to fall into place when you’re reading a book. You start to see connections between facts, and it can be so engrossing that, like in my case, you spend a day straight reading your physics textbook. My subconscious plays all kinds of tricks on me. I see the formulas without using virtual reality, and just thinking about variables is enough for me to pull up the formulas they’re expressed in. It’s getting hard to sleep. I struggle to fall asleep because of the thoughts that keep running around inside my head, and I get nosebleeds when that happens. Sleeping in the capsule for six hours at a time is plenty to get the rest I need.

***

The next morning, it’s the cold that wakes me up. To get warm, I run over to the blacksmith’s house as fast as I can, using my new ability. I need to start building it up, otherwise I’ll die without even noticing it.

I find the smithy by following the noises coming from it. The building is right next to the mine, and there are enormous trees growing around it. There’s a short fence, too. The first floor is made out of stone, while the second was built from wooden logs. The picture is completed by a large smithy with a sizeable forge under a canopy. It may be early morning, but the boss is already working.

“Hi there.” He jumps in surprise. “Brigadier Caris sent me for some nails.”

“How many times is this going to happen? I hung that bell just for people like you so you can let me know that you’re walking up,” the blacksmith replies, looking at me carefully. “Oh, you aren’t from around here.”

“Right, and I’d like to be your apprentice.”

“Can you forge?” The blacksmith casts a clingy glance at me.

“My blacksmith profession is pretty well developed, though I don’t have any experience forging. I won’t hold you back. All I need for my work is a place to stay and some skills, since I’m going to have to stay on the island until the ship gets here.”

“Hm, a tempting proposition. I could use an apprentice, especially since you’re already a professional blacksmith. What skills are you looking for?”

“Any smithing skills, anything useful at all, really. They say your wife is a good sorceress, so I’d love to learn something from her, too.”

Just then, somebody steps up behind me. It’s only because of my imp eye that I notice. The somebody is completely silent, too silent for even the blacksmith to hear. I look down, concentrating. Then, the blacksmith catches a glimpse of the person. His changing expression tells me that much. I hear a voice come from behind me.

“What makes you think that I’ll teach you anything?”

“Why not? I can help you. I’m a good herbalist, and I can pay you in herbs. A sorceress like you probably needs them all the time.”

The blacksmith puts his hammer down and steps out from under the canopy.

“Clarissa, he’s here because he has a quest. Put your knife away.”

She walks around in front of me, and I see a girl around twenty-five years old. She’s wearing camouflaged pants and a shirt. A shock of leaves camouflages her head.

“I imagine the boy in the tree is your son?”

I noticed him when I was walking up. My enhanced perception highlights all the hidden things I’m capable of seeing.

“Gart, come down and say hi to our guest.”

“Practicing?”

“Yes. I’m teaching the boy how to hide and hunt in the forest. How did you find him?”

“I’ve spent time working on my perception.”

“If you can see someone camouflaged in a tree, how much time was that?”

“Quite a bit.” I smile, proud as a cat with the sour cream. It’s the first time anybody has complimented me on how well I’m doing.

“Ah-h, whatever. I’ll teach you, but these are class skills, so you won’t be able to completely learn them. I’m Clarissa, this is my husband Claude, and the boy is our son Gart.”

He’s a couple years older than me and looks to have put in some good work on his attributes. His muscles are well developed.

“How were you able to find me?”

“You moved.”

“So?”

“The perception skill enables you to spot deviations from the norm. Trees don’t move by themselves, even in the wind, so that’s not the norm.”

The boy was surprised by my explanation.

“This is going to be fun.” The blacksmith ruffles the boy’s hair. “I’ll take you on, though there isn’t much chance of you picking anything up. The rule is that you can’t learn the main class skills.”

“That works. By the way, can you mine ore here?”

“Just copper and tin. That’s all anybody’s been able to find.”

“Well, still worth a try.”

After taking the nails, I run off to the wharf to make sure I’m back in time for lunch. A well-worn path leads down to the village from the blacksmith’s house. I don’t see any animals, though there are plenty of herbs. The herbalist inside me dies a little every time I continue on without picking them. I’m forced to convince myself that I’ll collect everything I see on the way back. The carpenter in me giggles and yammers on about how all the trees on the island are going to be sacrificed to my crazy experiments. I can practically hear him sharpening his axe, and it’s funny to hear my consciousness splitting.

Caris and his brigade are clearing yet another fishing schooner, and that’s where I find him.

“Caris, I brought you the nails.” The wily character forgot to tell me that there were 200 kilograms of them, and I would’ve had a hard time if I weren’t so developed.

“Thanks,” he replies, chewing on his lip as he continues. “If you’d been lying about your strength attribute, you wouldn’t have been able to bring them here. That means you were telling the truth about the rest, too.”

Caris gives you: Means of Reinforcing Wood for Craftsmen

Of course, I’m only too happy to get a book of skills for the craftsman class. Carpentry is the main class, while the secondary focus is on reinforcing wood.

“You’re boosting your skills just in general? I don’t know if you can learn any non-class skills, but you might as well give it a try. Good luck!”

He turns and heads toward the pier, and I watch him go. A complete stranger decided to help me. What, is my karma good?

With the book in hand, I vow to do everything I can to work on these skills. Even something as little as the ability to shoot a bow and arrow had turned out to be critical in Hell. And now, I have the chance to learn a secondary class ability.

Time to get to work. I have food, so now, I need herbs and wood.

I spend the whole way back to the smithy gathering plants. Half of them I don’t know, and some glow to tell me they’re useful. My herbalist skill and perception let me see what’s growing around me. It’s evening by the time I get back to the blacksmith, and I have a 90% overload. Half a ton of herbs is great!

In Project Chrysalis, every different area has its class skills, the foundation of that class. Healers have healing, craftsmen have crafting, warriors have armor-wearing, archers have fast and accurate shooting. Everyone can use edged weapons, though warriors get an additional bonus to the damage they do. Boosting your attributes enables you to do much more damage, which is why an archer will never kill a warrior at the same level with swords or knives, all things being equal. Because of that, I’ll never be a great healer or buffer. I’m more of an attacking mage.

The whole next day I spend trying herbs and brewing poisons, which just gives Clarissa something to laugh at. But when I start drinking the poison I made, she freezes, her jaw slack.

“You little idiot! That’s poison!”

“I know.”

“So, you want to poison yourself?”

“Yep. I’m developing my resistance to poison.”

“Why?”

“I want to make sure nobody can use them to kill me.”

After that, Clarissa starts teaching me how to brew poisons. The concept is the same as brewing potions in a pot, you just have to use different tools: retorts, flasks, and distilleries. The way I brew potions is practically stone age compared to what a real master can do. For example, she can make complicated potions mixing two or more effects from identical ingredients. It’s hardly surprising that alchemists and potion-brewers are held in high regard. I’ll only be able to make potions like that if I become a craftsman, since it’s the class skill that lets you mix effects.

Three days later, I get what I’ve been going for.

Skill learned: Poison-making

Poison-making: +1

Effect on the poisons you make: +1%

Two more days go by as I boost my skill to 25. Obviously, the fourth-order limiter is back in effect, and I can’t get anything past that until I pick a class and get myself recognized as a capable citizen. Still, I have a huge advantage over anyone studying in the big cities. I have a whole island with all kinds of herbs and a well-developed herbalist skill. I can carry almost half a ton of ingredients, and nobody’s going to get on my case about gathering resources belonging to some clan or other. Plus, I wouldn’t have been able to learn that skill if I didn’t have a potion-brewing master nearby.

Clarissa also agreed to teach me how to prepare ointments. There’s so much to learn! Depending on the way you make them, not to mention the active ingredients, the ointment can soak in immediately or stick around on the skin. They work for a long time, too, unlike poisons and potions, and healing is far from being the only way you can use them. You can even make poisonous ointments. For example, if you rub some of one of those on a doorknob or the hilt of a sword, you can kill without ever being noticed.

After a week of testing everything out on myself, I’m the proud owner of a new skill.

Skill learned: Ointment-making

Ointment-making: +1

Effect on the ointments you make: +1%

I have to wonder whether there are other nutjobs out there who spend three days, plus the money, leveling-up non-class skills they probably wouldn’t be able to guess at. There probably are, but they have to be focusing more on combat skills than crafting skills.

The only reason I got this skill is because I know the effects the ingredients have and how to make them, thanks to my cooking skill.

Resistance to poison: +0.01%

Poison damage ignored: 224/second

My ointment-making skill is up to 25 two days later. I’ve focused solely on making them for myself and using them to deliver poison, though I’ve also copied my teacher’s entire book of potions and recipes down on paper. I could have done it all using blood magic, with my own blood as the basic ingredient for the ointments and poisons, but that’s something Clarissa doesn’t need to know. New recipes automatically appear in the book, though I have to copy them by hand.

Healing myself so often has got me to the point that it’s a habit. I’m always doing it, even when I’m not taking damage. There’s something soothing about it. For now, the game is a way for me to relax away from the real world, so I spend eighteen hours a day in my capsule. The rest of the time, I’m either sleeping or eating. Something’s wrong with me. I need to start reading up on medicine.

***

Eliza was on her way to the office. That day, she’d received permission to run some studies she’d been dreaming about for quite a while. Life as a student psychologist was one long string of them, interrupted by more relaxing seminars and individual sessions with patients. On the other hand, you have the constant battle of getting funding for your experiments.

“Miss Donovan, one of your wards has been hospitalized,” Moro said to the boss as soon as she walked into the office.

“Good morning to you, too, Moro. Who? What happened?”

“Anji Ganet; general psychological and physical exhaustion. The medbots have already delivered his body to the clinic.”

“That’s odd. He was healthy, no? Put me in touch with the medical staff who did the examination.”

A couple of seconds went by before a room with the boy and an avatar of a doctor appeared on a screen hovering in midair.

“Hello, Mr. Garret. I’m Eliza Donovan, psychologist in charge of Anji Ganet. What happened?”

The man in the doctor’s outfit looked at the girl for a few seconds.

“Good morning, Miss Donovan. The boy is going through exhaustion due to the constant bleeding general overexertion is causing it. The capsule established his critical condition and called the medbots, who put the boy into a medical coma.”

“What’s causing the bleeding?”

“I already told you - general overexertion of the central nervous system. He doesn’t have a neuronet, which would make figuring out the exact reason easier, especially since this rarely happens in people who don’t have a neuronet. Even now, the boy’s brain is overloaded, regardless of the fact that he’s on sedatives.”

“What’s the diagnosis?”

“We’re seeing symptoms of accelerated physiological development syndrome. That would overload the central nervous system and trigger an attack.”

“What’s he looking at, and how is that treated?”

“It isn’t. It’s a deviation at the DNA level. All we can do is work on the symptoms to make sure it isn’t life-threatening. The patient isn’t in danger now, and he’ll be hooked up to a med capsule for a couple weeks. After that, we’ll put him through a restoration course and boost a few development processes to make the boy’s life easier over the next six months. Basically, his body is going to develop too quickly.”

The doctor’s behavior seemed suspicious to Eliza.

“Aren’t you supposed to just give him medicine? His insurance doesn’t cover that kind of treatment.”

“You’re right, Miss Donovan. The most intriguing part is that we received a request from the Lunar government telling us to cover the cost of the full restoration course. I agreed. I’m a doctor, and my job is to help my patients get better. Medicine wouldn’t do as much as full treatment.”

Eliza had to wonder who the sponsor was.

“That’s very odd.”

“Agreed. This happens very rarely. In general, they only finance tech studies. This is the first time I’ve heard of them paying for an orphan.”

Nothing fit with the general policy in Lunar.

“I have a request. When the boy’s condition stabilizes, can you give me permission to chat with him in a personal virtual space? I want to ask him something.”

“What about his supervisor?”

“I’ll talk with him.”

***

It’s a funny feeling when you’re falling into the game, you don’t know where from, and then the capsule forces a shut-down. All of a sudden, you’re in the psychologist’s office.

“Anji, how could you let that happen? Letting things get so bloody!”

“What, did I kill someone?”

“You should’ve seen how much blood there was! The whole corridor was filled with it. The kids are in shock.”

“...”

I’d never liked Vaalsie, but I wasn’t going to kill him.

“They had to take you to the hospital! When they pulled you out of the capsule, there was blood pouring out your nose, your ears, and even your eyes. Your brain needed a break, so you’re going to spend the next two weeks in the hospital. You’re already there, actually.”

The perplexed look on my face says more than words ever could.

I’m no whackjob, so how did I become a fountain of blood they had to take to the hospital and then send for the psychologist?

“Accelerated body development syndrome. You’re going to live, and you can read about the rest yourself.” I nod. For the time being, it’s better to get along. “You’re going to spend the next two weeks in the game, though you have to make sure you don’t overload your nervous system while you’re in there. The resources it has should be enough for you to get back on your feet. As soon as your body tells the capsule that you’ve had enough, they’ll cut you off, put you to sleep, and then drop you back in. Okay?”

I nod again.

“Anji, why won’t you talk to me? What did I ever do to you?”

I look at her like she’s some kind of idiot. First, she pulls her tricks, and now she wants to talk with her?

“I remember our last conversation. You told me how much you hate women, though I still don’t understand why you won’t talk with me now. You spoke in the space port, no? And I can’t have anything to do with why you have a hard time with girls.”

I point at my ear.

“No, I turned off all the communication channels with the outside virtual space.”

“Because you threatened me and the ones I care about. Then, you told the other kids that I can talk, and that created a whole lot of problems for me.”

I see the joy of victory in Eliza’s eyes, and the happy smile on her face turns her into a very beautiful girl.

“What if I didn’t tell them?”

“You created a situation that hurt me, whether you meant to or not.”

“And that’s why you don’t want to talk with me?”

I switch off my sound. She wants to say that “that” was nothing. I’m good at reading people, and the virtual space lets me identify their emotions. Instead of listening, I start reading her work. Eliza is smart and a good psychologist, though I’m not prepared to give anyone the time of day if they think I should just forgive their mistakes. We’re never going to work together.

***

Victory! Regardless of how the conversation ended, Eliza was satisfied that the boy had opened his mouth. The first time, she’d made the mistake of talking with him in the orphanage. That misstep had led to his complete refusal to work with her, and now the boy was closing up and turning off his audio channel.

“Moro, play the audio back and show me how the boy reacted to everything I said.”

From the recording, she could see that Anji’s face twitched for just a second when she said “that’s why.” The system registered his expression as a disgusted grimace.

“Ah-ha, so you feel hurt when it comes to your principles and values,” Eliza said with a triumphant smile.

***

Well, that’s news. Although, I can’t help thinking the diagnosis is wrong. The overload is probably just something to do with my nerves. I’m having a hard time controlling my flow of thoughts, both in and out of the game. That means I need to read about it, otherwise I’ll kill myself without even trying.

I’m pretty sure I know how to stay relaxed over the coming two weeks. To work on my smithing, and smithing skills in particular, I need metal. For that, I need lots of ore. Time to get to work. It’s back into the sweet embrace of darkness for me.

My conversation with Claude is short but productive.

You can learn the miner profession.

You learned the miner profession.

Miner: +1

Chances of discovering mineral deposits: +1%

“Claude, for a few reasons, I need to spend the next two weeks in the dark. I’d like to spend that time mining ore.”

“Two weeks? You’ll go crazy by yourself!” The blacksmith throws his arms up.

“Believe me, two weeks is nothing. I’ll be busy, too.”

“Ah-h, you’re always like that. Is there anything you aren’t afraid of?”

“Sure, a terrifying old lady and her grandchildren.”

“What old lady? Did you do something to her?”

“Wearing a black hood and holding a scythe. I ran away from her, but she kept inviting me to visit. It didn’t go well.”

I walked off toward the mine, leaving Claude’s shocked expression behind me. He didn’t see my insidious smile, however. A little thing, but fun.

Off I went into the darkness. There were lots of reasons for this, for example, since your brain takes in most information from your eyes, darkness helps lessen the load placed on it. I don’t plan on using magic, though nobody said anything about meditating. The most important thing right now is to learn how to control my consciousness. After all, another attack like that could kill me.

It turned out to be even better than mediation. Each strike of my pick was a touch that let me feel the space around me, with my imp eye ability drawing a picture based on the echoes. They say that the darkness starts staring into you if you spend too much time staring into it, but that’s not how it is for me. I start to sense it. My whole being works in perfect harmony, analyzing what my body is doing, the strength of my swings, the sounds around me. I empower myself with every hit, finally perfecting my ability to control my body. Working in complete darkness like this is so relaxing! My hands are getting the chance to work in place of my head.

Two weeks pass, and I get a message.

New ability: Shroud of darkness

You’ve spent so much time in the dark that you’re starting to think of it as part of you. You have the ability to clothe your body in a shroud of absolute darkness.

If you think about it, my aura is just starting to consume the light. I look absolutely dark, and it’s a great ability. I’m a full-fledged night hunter now.

When my treatment finishes and I get back to the orphanage, the first thing I do is fall asleep. I sleep for hours, only waking up to get some food before going back to sleep. There’s no pain, no stress, no blood. I’m feeling great and ready to work.

Back in the game, I leave the mine. Aromas fill the air: the forest, the sea water, food being cooked, hot metal. I run over to the sea, looking to jump and feel each muscle clenching, each cell working.

I swim all day, checking to make sure I can still control all my streams of consciousness. Actually, it’s even better. Using them now doesn’t tax me as much. I head back to the blacksmith’s in the afternoon.

Quartz sand is one of the most valuable materials I found in the mine. We use some to make glass, since I don’t have anywhere to hold the potions I make. I was using acorns instead of tubes. Clarissa barely had enough for herself, I didn’t have many of my own, and they weren’t sold in the village.

For a week, I work in the smithy, reinforcing metal under Claude’s instruction. I find out that you can reforge metal to add layers and make it stronger. You can also temper it in special structures that add different things to them. I’m no blacksmith, and I’m not planning on developing that area, so I just focus on processing metal. Five days later, I pull it off.

Skill learned: Metal reinforcing

Metal reinforcing: +1

Effect on reinforced metal: +1% durability

Everything’s set up so cleverly in Project Chrysalis. To start with, there are real parallels for reinforcing metal by tempering it in special constructions. Every different kind of metal has the temperature it melts at, and you can wreck the constructions if you use them for the wrong kind. And who prepares the treatment for the metal? Clarissa, using her potion-brewing skill. That means that I get her recipe.

There are about two weeks left until the ship gets here, and I still want to learn how to reinforce wood. If the book is accurate, you use a special treatment. They haven’t invented things like compression, so you have to figure out which treatment to use for which kind of wood, otherwise it’ll have the opposite effect. Everything having to do with processing metal and wood, really, works with the thermal and chemical properties of the material. I get what I’ve been waiting for on the second day.

Skill learned: Wood reinforcing

Wood reinforcing: +1

Effect on reinforced wood: +1% durability

There are four days until the ship gets here now. I spend every day on the pier, afraid to miss it. If I do, I’ll be stuck in this wilderness another two months.

In all my time on the island, I’ve picked up five class skills, and collected herbs, pearls, and some metal. I’ve boosted my resistance to poison. I’ve found tons of recipes for potions, poisons, treatments, ointments, and other solutions. I’ve made test tubes and a master potion-brewer kit. For the last nine days, I’ve been collecting herbs and making concentrated poisons. Incredible! They’re the dream of any self-respecting archer.

Hell showed me that all kinds of little things can end up saving you. Nobody ever reaches out to help, though everyone’s only too willing to jump on your head when you’re drowning. They’ll take everything, wait for you to get something else, and then take that, too. I need strength, the kind of strength that even the sovereigns of the world can’t take away from me. Judging by my conversation with the devil, they can take anything, even my body, but they can’t take my intelligence or skills. I’m not sure about my achievements or levels.

I sit there, seething at myself and my weakness. I want strength! The kind that will make me the equal of anyone trying to touch me, that evil being in the astral who was keeping an eye on me, for example, or the other one with the sword. By this time, I’ve realized that I wasn’t looking at myself. There were some differences that hadn’t caught my eye. They’re all enemies! The world is hostile and does everything it can to keep me from becoming too strong. My enemies have shown their hands, and I know how to respond to them.

I need strength and a path of development. I need to think. There’s one idea, but it’s too small. I need power, and not just physical power.

***

Merlen Ruzh and Leon were sitting in one of the rooms in their clan castle. Their breastplates were made of bright white mithril, with the avatar of the god glistening under the rays of a sun, the crest of the Golden Hand. Merlen, who practically lived in the office even in real life, stuck with his favorite white shirt and stylish leather vest even in the game. He was readying the reports submitted by the negotiating team.

The castle was surrounded by six levels of tall walls, turning the whole mountain into an enormous fortress with a multitude of towers and moats. Inside, there were warehouses, barracks, throwing weapons, and an enormous pond. It was really more a city than a clan castle. They’d even set up a stationary teleport. The local population had suggested setting up a branch of the dwarf bank and several trading centers, though it was all desolate, the castle looking deserted. Shadows were all that walked the streets. The castle shields ran at full strength, too. And everything had started so well!

Two months ago, the clan leadership had wanted to boost the flow of prana coming in, so they decided to send missionaries to a few cities. A problem arose when all three cities in a long valley asked them to kill a dragon that had been demanding cattle and gold from them for years. The enormous lizard was always ravenously hungry, and that was hitting the locals hard.

After a reconnaissance mission, a strike group was formed two thousand strong, mostly made out of archers and mages. It was a green dragon, after all, hearty and Level 1200.

They found mountains of gold, epic items, and precious jewelry in its cave, and the Golden Hand celebrated their victory in the central castle. But nobody could have guessed what would happen next.

Dragons are intelligent and very vindictive.

First, four people arrived and asked the local clanmen why they were celebrating. They were told that the management was celebrating victory over the dragon and the recognition of their god Leon in three cities.

“You killed a dragon just for that?” asked one of the arrivals, a man with long, gray hair and dressed in burgundy leather armor. Experience and wisdom dripped from his words, and he was disappointed.

“What’s wrong with that? We got so much loot that there was enough for everyone!”

All hell broke loose. The arrivals turned out to be gold dragons in human form, and they were there for vengeance.

The four were all at Level 3000, and in terrible moods.

With their first spell, they turned everything within a hundred meters to ash. Their next attack, this time a combined effort, created a blue sun twenty meters above the earth. Buildings, tents, people in armor, everything went up in flames like dry straw, burning away in seconds. Then, the dragons started clearing the castle. They torched everyone who was there for the party, both in that castle and in the clan’s other castles. It was an organized attack on the clan and its lands.

After the dragon faction took on the Golden Hand, everybody realized how serious their mistake had been. The castle was under siege for a week. The dragons were circling cities looking for their enemies, so the local populations started kicking out everyone in the clan. They feared the wrath of the dragons far more than that of the young god, of course. Being cursed or killed is hardly a choice, but they went with the former.

The dragons didn’t want to raze the fortress, even though they could have done so if they had wanted to. The massacre of the Golden Hand was enough of a warning to anyone who might dare raise a fist at a dragon.

“Merlen, stop worrying. We just weren’t expecting it, so we weren’t prepared for it. I knew I could take out two dragons. The problem was that the other two would have crushed my avatar. Our reputation suffered in the city, but we still have just as many believers. We’ll get back on track as soon as we can rebuild our reputation. Little things like this don’t change what we’re working toward.”

“Little things?” Merlen stared angrily at the god. “Leon, we have invested so much money building our reputation, hiring warriors, and completing quests. We even had humanitarian aid missions going! Now, all that is wasted because we got ahead of ourselves.”

“But that’s not why you’re mad.”

“I’m afraid we’re ruined! As soon as the dragons lift the siege, the other clans will move in for the kill. There are civil wars going on all over the world, and the locals don’t get involved. They have their own problems. Humans and elves are going at it, with a whole village slaughtered in the periphery. Dwarves and orcs are at each other’s throats. We have dragons and war. Leon, it’s about to start, and we can’t pull together enough strength for a powerful hit. As soon as the dragons leave, they’re going to come after us. The only reason people are staying away from us now is because of the dragons, but they’re going to leave us weak and helpless. Our enemies won’t pass up an opportunity like that.”

“And we’re ready for them, Merlen.” Leon got up. “I put together a group of master swordsmen and intelligence mages. Twenty of the warriors will be equipped with obsidian weapons, and we’ll be able to put down any magic cast at us since they’ll get the kind of debuffs that will make them think twice about trying it again after we kill them. It takes an ocean of divine energy to quickly get rid of debuffs like that. I’d rather resurrect ten people than get the debuffs of one killed like that. That’s our trump card when it comes to fighting young gods and mages. We’ll be fine with the rest.”

“War means expenses. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

The young god nodded confidently.

“I’d invest much more if it meant achieving my goals. We haven’t gone through any more than ten percent of the plan, and I don’t see any real danger. Merlen, you’re not looking at the big picture. We don’t have problems; we have an opportunity to fight this war on our terms.”

A silence hung over the room. Merlen went back to his numbers, truly believing in Leon’s plan and looking for something to tell him that he was right. Numbers always soothed him.

Just then, a servant walked into the room and handed Leon a message.

“What’s up?”

“The dragons are going to lift the siege in a week. We’re going to discuss what we owe them in an hour outside the fortress.”

“Finally.”

“Let the allied clans know. We’re starting the bloodiest war this world has ever known.”

Leon got up and looked out the window. The shadow of a dragon flying above the castle blocked out the light for a second, and Merlen caught a glimpse of a predatory smile on the god’s face.

“The dragons are going to be on our side.”

***

In the city of Denev, right near the market, there was a structure with a long canopy. That was where all kinds of different pets and animals for riding were sold, and the local kids had been playing there for the past year. The boys and girls loved riding the creatures, feeding and watering them, and earning some money by taking care of them. The older kids, on the other hand, spent their time out in the country, where they boosted their animals’ skills and levels.

Just then, a girl rode up on a big Bengal tiger, both of them purring happily. The animal’s owner walked up to the pair, patted the girl on the head, and asked her a question.

“Well, Mini, did you like the tiger?”

“Yes,” the girl replied, eyes shining. “Miss, you have no idea. We got away from a whole pack of wolves, and then we helped some kids. After that, some herbalists ran up and asked us to protect them, so I made myself a wreath while we were doing that. I made one for you, too.”

The girl placed a brightly colored wreath on the tiger owner’s head.

“Will you be coming back to take the tiger out?”

“Of course!” She jumped for joy and ran off to boast to the other kids.

A procession of two dozen paladins and priests marched through the city just at that moment. At their head was a blue-eyed girl with long, red hair, wearing a simple white dress with blue stripes. A life aura glowed around her. The locals ran over to the holy girl and asked her to heal them, as she could lift any debuff with just one motion of her hand. There was no spell, injury, or disease that could withstand her divine gift.

There, on the border with the orcs, fights were always breaking out, sometimes with the undead getting involved. The holy girl and her companions had spent the previous month out on long raids clearing the area of the undead and only returning to help the suffering.

Every time the girl’s procession came around, the animal owner watched her carefully and listened to what she had to say. The owner was a woman with plenty of experience behind her, and what she saw wasn’t a holy girl; it was a girl experienced in love who craved the attention of the public. Little details here and there gave her away. The woman also saw the calculation the girl put into what only looked like good deeds.

But she was awfully young to be so clever.

Hannah Quick was the animal owner’s name. Over the previous year, she’d reached Level 350 and earned enough money to buy her own pet. Her experience as a psychologist helped her in the game, too, giving her a way of speaking with both animals and humans. Kids who were problematic in real life became open and happy in the game. Both kids and animals understood emotions, and so it was easy for them to get along.

It had taken Eliza Donovan a whole year to get her bosses to pay for her study of the in-game reality in Project Chrysalis, which looked at how tough kids could adapt through the game. But she’d finally gotten enough for her zoo and invited all the new kids to come visit her. She’d even paid their fare. Once there, the kids got high-quality emotional and psychological assistance.

“Ah, Rachel, if you weren’t such a bitch, there would be one more kind boy in the world.” Eliza remembered Anji and the sacrifice all too well. She’d seen the two weeks he’d enjoyed a happy childhood, and she knew who killed it there on the sacrificial stone. One of them was standing in front of her wearing holy clothing as she healed people.

***

It had been a year since the Black Rose clan started working on leveling-up their members. The wise leader had taken his clan mates to the toughest dungeons, pushed them to the edge of their abilities, and ensured that even the weakest newcomer became a force to be reckoned with.

Teamwork, boosted skills, great spots for hunting, and strategies for beating dungeons all made the Black Rose a factory for churning out strong players across all classes and specialties. Starting at Level 300, they focused on building skills in extreme conditions.

The head of the clan was a Level 670 mage and one of the strongest wizards in the world. He always participated in clan raids and meetings, and legend had it that he never once logged out of the game. None of his clan mates had ever seen him log out in front of them.

Bernard had founded his clan as soon as the ritual was complete. His brothers and sisters locked up in this world awaited a worthy rival, and he loved each of them, doing whatever he could to free them as soon as possible. In his past life, he’d been a god of war, and he’d known everything there was to know about the art of war. That was why he’d created a factory to turn out the strongest army in the world.

Progress is an ongoing war, and his clan’s services were going to be in constant need as soon as the balance of power changed. Give two people weapons and they’ll kill each other by themselves. At least, that’s what the gods all thought. The important part was that people become more powerful with a weapon in their hands. The wanderers had proven that the last time, and they’d prove it again. Bernard was just going to pour coal on the fire of war.

Margul, the patron of the dragons, had said that the era of war was beginning, and his followers would support one of the young gods. He’d long been wanting to match up against someone from the new pantheon, and so he’d set up a quest to kill one of the dragons.

“What if they aren’t ready yet? The young gods are still weak.”

“Time will tell us what they’re worth, my friend. The young ones can combine forces to deliver a powerful blow.”

“You aren’t afraid to die for good? That’s a violation of Idzumi’s conditions.”

“Why?” The air quivered from the thunder of his reply. “I understand Idzumi’s words differently. He said, ‘die at the hand of a strong opponent.’ ‘Only the worthy will move on.’”

“But not from a bunch of weaklings.”

“Believe me, I’m not going to die if I think they’re a bunch of weaklings. I can wait a little while before testing their strength again if need be. The humans won’t be able to pull my adepts away from me anyway.”

Bernard smiled bitterly. Obviously, the dragons would only bow to one god.

“It’s a shame that Idzumi won’t appear in the world before the first chosen one.”

“Well, he isn’t on Tanatos. Could the chosen one have appeared already, and be somewhere else?”

“You think there’s some loner out in the world at Level 1000, someone nobody knows about?” Bernard laughed heartily. He always felt free and calm with Margul, and he enjoyed the rare moments of happiness their conversations gave him.

Tanatos, the island of the gods, was in the very center of the inhabited world, between four enormous continents and awash in the ocean. It was called an island in lore all around the world, though it was actually a small continent. It was a place of strength, too. Those who lived there were ancient and strong: the descendants of the first titans, dragons, demons, and other powerful beings. There were angels on Tanatos, too. The waters surrounding the island were protected by beasts at Level 1000 and higher, and they were what gave the ocean its name: the Ocean of Terror. That was where the gods had met Idzumi the last time. He’d come from the other side and he explained his arrival by telling them of the coming of the first chosen one to the world.

“Brother, don’t die too early.” Bernard opened up for just a second. “I’m afraid to lose you. There are few I hold close in this world. And now, I’m afraid I’ll be left alone if you’re the last to leave. We’ll wait for the wanderers to get to the island. They’re much stronger. And the chances of a good battle are ten times better.”

The dragon god narrowed his eyes.

“I’ll think about it. I’ll think well, my friend.”

***

There’s a reason I’m sitting on the pier: I need Caris. At least, I need his cartography skill. If what he said was true, I can get a map covering lots of territory, and all in minute detail. I’ll need that in case there’s a problem with the ship now or on the way to the continent.

Caris is supposed to come back a bit before the ship arrives, and that’s exactly what he does.

“Hi, Caris. I was able to pick up the skill of fortifying wood, which I thank you for with all my heart,” I say with a deep bow. “I have an offer for you. I need a map of everywhere you’ve been. I figure you can use your skill as a cartographer.”

“Everywhere? Kid, do you have any idea how many places I’ve been in my fifty years? Or how much time that would take?”

He took the bait! I have to set the hook.

“What would you like in return?”

The brigadier frowns.

“You haven’t made me an offer! And you’re asking me something like that? Give me an offer, and I’ll think about it.”

“I can offer you eighty gold.”

Caris laughed loudly.

“Sagie, did you really just ask me to draw up a record of my life for eighty gold? Even the map I drew for you out of the goodness of my heart is worth a hundred. And you’re talking about practically the entire Ocean of Terror!”

I made a mistake, insulting him with my offer, but I know how I can recover. I pull the black pearl out of my pocket.

“I imagine we can come to an agreement. Don’t you think so, Caris?”

He stops laughing, his attention locked on the pearl.

“Where did you get that treasure?” The brigadier clenches it in his hand. “It’s worth more than our entire village put together!”

“From the bottom of the ocean. So, will you make me that map?”

“Yes. Give me the paper. This will take me a long time, and we have to hurry.”

He disappears into the cabin of his boat and doesn’t come back until just after the ship shows up. That gives me plenty of time to think about what I’m going to do on my way to the continent, and finally come up with a plan for how to get back to work on myself.

The most popular specialty for mages is fire, at least, that’s according to the statistics online. When you finish your training and get to the tenth level of magic mastery, you get access to a second specialty. Most people double up on the damage bonus they get by going with the same one. Anyway, the majority of the time, I’ve been attacked physically, with poison, and with fire. I need to be able to defend myself and kill my attackers, so I need to boost my defense and attack. I want to be completely impervious to mental attacks, too. The best offense is a good defense, and the best defense is a good offense. That’s what the ancient gladiators thought, anyway. It’s a principle I can use.

The enormous six-masted sailing ship arrived right on schedule. It had three decks and a large hold, making it something like an ark. I share my opinion with Caris, getting an answer back.

“In storms, ships like that are practically unsinkable. They don’t capsize, either. Here’s the map I promised. I wasn’t able to get everything done, but it’s still my greatest work.”

I take the map and look around to find Zird, where I’m supposed to have my trial with the Hunters. It’s not here! I wonder if the city is too small or if it’s just missing.

“Caris, do you know where a city called Zird is?”

“No, doesn’t ring a bell. How soon do you need to get there?”

“In seven months. I’m trying to figure out where it is. That’s why I needed the map.”

Caris stood there for a while, lost in thought. Everything about him spoke of an internal struggle.

“There’s still time left before the ship leaves, so I’ll let you know if I think of anything. Good luck.”

He heads back to his boat; I make for the ship.

It costs just ten gold to get to Congul, the nearest continent. Another fifty gets me my own cabin in the nose of the second deck. The ship runs between Katain and Congul, taking the longest route and dropping by the small islands near Heron. Nobody goes any further out into the Ocean of Terror. Judging by the map, the ship goes between the northern continents, the western and the eastern ones.

I couldn’t be happier. The map is gorgeous. It even includes which way the wind blows at different times of year, not to mention the currents. The coastal areas around all four continents are included, while there is a large black spot in the middle of the Ocean of Terror. The captain tells me that it’s home to monsters who can swallow whole ships, and that nobody’s ever sailed to the center of the ocean and lived to tell the tale.

I have big plans for the next two weeks, and that’s why I got my own cabin in the bow. That’s where the wind carries all the smells of the sea.

The ship spends half the day at the island, giving me the chance to run around one more time and pick up the ingredients I need. I grab half a ton of freshly picked herbs.

Then, after the ship sets sail, the first thing I do is set up a lab for brewing poisons. I’ve spent the last two weeks making concentrated solutions and ointments, after all. I always have a patch of poisonous ointment on under my shirt now, and I need to stock back up.

The most poisonous fish in the ocean are the brightest ones. There’s even something like a fugu, the most dangerous fish in the sea. And collecting poison is exactly how I’m planning on spending the trip. Poisonous potions, depending on the way they act, can also bring to bear other effects, such as reducing your attributes, paralyzing you, stunning you, and causing hallucinations. My enemies are skillful! I’m better off playing it safe ten times than making one mistake. Plant and animal poisons have different effects, and I’m looking for as many different ingredients as I can to boost my resistance.

That’s the first part of my plan, and I get started right away.

Magic scrolls are this world’s best invention. There’s a magic seal on the paper, and only a human aura and the key phrase activate them. The charge they hold depends on the material, though there are occasionally mana storage stones. Those occasions are when the scroll is attached to a holder, with the stones set around the edges. They look like small rolls of toilet paper with two doorknobs on either side made out of gems. In the vast majority of cases, the scroll creates a one-level spell without any effects added—for example, fireballs, fire spears, wind blades, stun, and simple buffs. Complex spells like acid fog, fire tornado, and golem or elemental summoning work use different ideas. They’re complex, interdisciplinary, and multi-level—golems are Life and Land Magic, fire tornados are Air and Fire Magic.

Large seals are made by combining different types of magic. For each kind, there’s an image, with everything connecting in the center of a large pentagram. It’s basically like the Olympic rings. If you want to intensify the effect of the spell, they can all be the same, sort of the way I did things with the astral bone sword.

There are very few mages in the world who can create scrolls with complex spells, and they’re really universal mages with an inscription skill. For example, if a mage has their Land Magic skill up to 90 and their inscription Life Magic skills up to 120, they can make spells that summon golems with a level based on their lowest skill—90. Scrolls for meteorites or acid fogs, to take a couple of instances, are therefore practically one of a kind and worth lots of money. In Project Chrysalis, groups of mages of single universal mages with huge reserves cast powerful spells during raids or war. Scrolls are the leftovers for non-mages.

To create a scroll, you need the activation word, the spell seal, the paper itself, and developed skills for the appropriate magic schools. The mage draws the scroll, fills it with mana, and then activates it when the time comes. Alternatively, other people can buy and activate them. The biggest problem with them is that you can die from the magic recoil.

I realized what Bernard did to teach me my spells. He was right, it was really difficult. You have to have incredibly well-developed skills in Life and Mind Magic. Currently, the spells are written in my mental body, which is usually only touched by the mage himself, and not other people. It’s like having a vein in your body that you can consciously release blood from. You can boost your running speed or how high you jump, and I have the same thing, only with magic. He figured that I wasn’t going to use my spells very often, but I’ve developed my magic potential and used my magic, activating the spells wired into my mental body rather than the ones I’ve learned myself. What Bernard did was a miracle: he touched me and changed my mental body, using Life Magic to work with my physical body and therefore change my brain. I’m not even close to understanding magic on that level.

The second part of my plan focuses on seals, and I’ll be able to get to work on that once I get to a big city. It’s going to be even crazier than my usual sacrifices, too. And I didn’t expect that from myself. Ritual magic? Blood magic? Never! I’m not going to outstrip my humanity, my own weakness.

Also, I need to build protection against fire and mental damage, and I know how to do that. That will have to happen after the first two parts of my plan, otherwise it will be the death of me.

It’s the fourth day since we set sail, and we’re getting close to inhabited lands with strongholds, castles, and cities.

There are three ships on the horizon, and the captain shouts a warning. The ship’s shields activate. The crew quickly dons their armor.

“Captain, do we have a problem?”

Captain Geriont is watching the fast-sailing frigates approaching from the west. With our current course, we should meet them in about ten minutes.

“Yes, a very big problem, son.” I’m shaken when he calls me that. “That’s three pirate frigates from the Bodoy Archipelago. They’ve never sailed in trios before, and we can’t take them on our own. The bastards know very well that it takes us ten minutes to fire and reload our main armament. We’ll sink one of theirs, though we won’t be able to take the other two. The survivors of the first will swim over, too.”

“What level are they at?”

“About a hundred, and their captains are up to 150.” Geriont suspects that I’m creating something devious in my cabin. His cabin is right above mine, and he complained about the smell yesterday, so I had to patch up the holes. “Why? Do you have a suggestion?”

“How many pirates are there in each crew?”

“Thirty, but they’re all higher-level than ours.”

“If I can neutralize one ship, can you take care of the other two?”

The captain’s eyes bore through me. A Level 0 boy wearing a village shirt is telling him he can kill thirty grown men.

“I don’t care what you do, but I’ll be only too happy if you can save our lives.”

“I’m doing this for my own reasons. I’m going to take their ship, cargo, and people.”

“This is no time for jokes! But whatever, do what you want.”

The captain is better off not knowing what I’m planning on doing. I need pirates! Lots of pirates! I don’t much care about their cargo or ship. Clarissa and I made a paralyzing poison when I was still in Heron, and I used all my metal putting the spikes together. They’re invaluable as mana storage.

I pull off my normal poison and replace it with a bandage laced with a paralyzing ointment. I’m not immune to it yet, and I need more resistance, but I can use it with leather gloves on. The bandage is great as a way to keep it on me and still stay mobile.

Grabbing the spikes, I leap into the sea. I need to capture one of the ships, and the farther away from our ship that happens, the better.

I swim as fast as I can, trying to stay under water the whole time. The salvo from our ship strikes a hundred meters to my right, and I pick up a hearing debuff. The second frigate is about fifty meters ahead of me, with the third a hundred meters behind it. That’s my target.

Attempting to grab hold of the ship at full speed practically kills me. I bang my head on the hull, only barely grabbing the stern and clambering up it. When I jump down off the bulwark right behind the wheel, I see that the whole crew, complete with the captain, is up by the bow ready to board. A quick dab of poison, and the helmsman drops quietly to the deck. I head over to the wheel. None of the pirates are expecting their ship to turn parallel to ours, but that’s what happens.

It takes a quick battle, though it’s only the captain who’s hard to take out. He’s the only one who uses a sword and a dagger at the same time, and he’s practically immune to stunning, too. I win when I smear the poison all over his face. As long as he doesn’t die.

The frigate is a bit small for what I’m looking for, and drawing the ritual blood seal takes some doing. I make just two levels—three points of strength with ten victims each. Geroit was right about there being exactly thirty of them. The only problem is what I’m going to enchant, since I don’t have mithril and don’t plan on picking any up any time soon. The price is prohibitive. Instead, I have to use a silver ring without a gem that I made in Heron after I found a small deposit of the metal. Once the sacrifice on the deck is over and the fight in the astral taken care of, I get what I’m looking for.

Captain Archie’s ring

The pirate captain gained fame as a terrible human with a love of torture. Over the long years, the ring he wore soaked in all the pain and suffering, not to mention the mastery of its former owner.

Effect:

Agility: +20

Requirement:

personal item

Durability:

125/125

There it is: to create a nice, scalable item, you need at least eighty-five victims. The kind of victims you use, the way you kill them, and the material you use all plays a part. If I had mithril, I’d be able to create a ring with three attributes rather than the one I got. Still, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. I take it and walk away happy.

Hey, at least Eliza didn’t pull me out of the game for something little like this.

By the time I get rid of the bodies and clear away all traces of the ritual, the battle on our ship is over, too. They weren’t able to capture the third frigate, though they were able to drive it away.

Geriont tells me that the pirates started to have second thoughts when they saw the ship I was on turn and sail away. They realized they no longer had a numerical advantage and turned to run.

“What are you going to do with your trophy?”

“Sell it and everything on board. I don’t need a ship.”

“How much are you looking to get for it?”

“I’ll figure that out in the city. Why, do you have an offer?”

Geriont thought for a little while.

“I might be able to help with the sale. That will also grab the attention of people who work with the pirates.”

“What would you like in return?”

“A quarter of the return.”

“That’s a lot, and you know it. However, I’m willing to pay it if you’ll give me some information.”

The captain smiles. And why not? He just won the jackpot. Yes, my friend, you don’t even know why I agreed. It was because he was right. I don’t want any kind of attention.

“I need to find out where a city called Zird is located. I need information about the continent’s strongest monsters, too. Then, I’ll need the best healer in Sural who can do body modifications, and a tattoo master. Most importantly, I’m going to need books on magic. You’ll have your money, and I don’t care how legal they are, I just need to know about them.” The captain’s expression turned all the more serious as I went along, mentioning the port we were on our way to.

“That sounds terrifying coming from a kid at Level 0, but I’ll do it.”

He doesn’t bother me the rest of the trip, something I’m very thankful for.

The weather becalms us for two days, and I dive into the water to look for the most poisonous fish I can find. But I find out something odd. At a depth of a hundred meters, I start taking physical damage, apparently from the water pressure. That’s something to think about! I’ve been looking for somewhere that does constant physical damage, and it looks like that does the trick. It’s just a shame that I don’t have any potions for underwater breathing, as only alchemists can brew those. It’s three hundred meters to the bottom, and I assume that depth would kill me. It’s a perfect spot to train, though.

Today, I decide to relax in the real world and read. I need to figure out what’s going on with my body. It’s my mental stress that’s overloading me, and I can control my stream of thoughts, but doing that gives me a nosebleed. I need to dig into the problem to see how my brain and neurophysiology work. I lose consciousness after spending almost twenty-four hours like that, waking up once again in a personal virtual space at the hospital.

***

Less than a month after the previous instance, Eliza was back in the virtual space with Anji. He’d overloaded himself and started bleeding yet again.

“Hi, Anji. We’re having a hard time here—every time we see each other, I have to give you a punishment or tell you off for doing something stupid. How could you study for a whole day?”

The boy said nothing.

“You’re just going to be quiet? We had a perfectly normal conversation last time, though I didn’t have time to tell you that everything’s okay with Galboa. They regenerated his arm, not to mention the neuroshunt and the sensors in his palm. He said to say hi and that Finx misses you.”

Anji again said nothing. Everything about him told her that he knew she was lying, after which there was some static and the boy disappeared.

“Moro, what happened? Where is Anji? He can’t leave. I didn’t give him permission.”

“I’m not sure, Miss Donovan. All I know is that the boy was forced out and is currently in another virtual space with access completely closed off. He’s by himself.”

“That’s ridiculous! He couldn’t do that by himself. Were we hacked?”

“That’s impossible. He connected via a med capsule with a personal identifier, and we didn’t receive anything about external interference. Somebody may have intercepted the data coming from Anji’s capsule and switched him over to a different virtual space.”

“But who? And why? This is government level stuff. The devil himself wouldn’t be able to figure it out, and tracing the data flow? That fast? Could it have been a random hack?”

“Probably not, ma’am. The work is too good.”

***

Well, this is new. I’m sent over to a different virtual space, a room with a view of Earth floating outside a large, panoramic window. This is an office! There’s a desk, an office, chairs, bookshelves on all the walls, the pleasant smell of baked goods, two couches, and a coffee table between them.

“Hi, Anji.”

The man looks to be about thirty years old, and he’s wearing gray tights and a t-shirt with a picture of Earth. There’s a cup of coffee he’s holding as he sits in the office chair. Just a second ago, he wasn’t there.  The smell of vanilla fills the air.

“Who are you?”

“A friend.”

Yeah, right, like I’m going to talk to a weird guy in tights. A new psychologist? Screw you! I’m not going to talk.

“I’m a friend who knows that your brain is overheating, Anji. My job is to figure out what’s going on when there are problems with Project Chrysalis, and I have reason to believe that the malady that sent you to the hospital for the second time in a month is being caused by the game.”

That didn’t explain anything, and it was based more on conjecture than fact.

“My guess is that you got something in Project Chrysalis that your body and mind weren’t ready for. Your nervous system was overloaded, and all I can suggest is to go easy on things. Your life cycle and the abilities of your body are limited. We can only restore it if we act fast enough, so you need to stop using what you know how to do.”

Now, that’s starting to get interesting—life cycles, the abilities of my body, restoring me… Intriguing facts. Still, I don’t have enough information to get a grip on everything.

“I get that you don’t want to talk. Situations like yours shouldn’t be happening for at least another six years, though there are always exceptions. Basically, find a way to control your health problem. If you have a stroke, it will be really hard to save you.”

Oh, I get where you’re coming from, my friend. I already know how to keep myself from dying, too.

“Good luck, Anji Ganet. You’re going to need it.”

***

Eliza stayed in her virtual space, waiting for the boy to be returned.

“Miss Donovan, he has left the other space.”

“Get him in here right now!”

The boy stood in the room with a smile on his face, apparently, having just learned something interesting about himself.

“Who pulled you out?”

Just the fact that she was hacked was a serious crime. If he knew who the hackers were, he needed to tell her.

The boy continued smiling and said nothing.

“I can give you another month in punishment for sabotaging a conversation with a psychologist. Are you prepared to deal with the consequences?”

The only thing the boy did was think to himself.

“Okay, we’ll do it your way. You’ll get the punishment starting with today: no games for a month.”

Anji just smiled again, his look showing the superiority he felt.

“Moro, set the punishment and let Vaalsie know about his infraction.”

The conversation over, Anji left the room. Eliza stepped out into reality. On the other side of the door, she already had people waiting for her to finish getting ready for her seminar. She hadn’t even started getting materials together.

“Miss Donovan, we were banned from talking with Anji Ganet for a year, and his punishment was revoked. The boy submitted a complaint to the station’s top ArtIn about abuse and false accusations.”

“What did he write? Based on what? What about his violations?”

“Everything the boy has done in the game has been within the rules and in keeping with the articles of behavior. He got a punishment from his supervisor for all the conversations with you he sabotaged. Psychologists can’t punish their wards except in special instances that stray outside the law, the articles of behavior, or set orders. The boy hasn’t done any of that. There have, however, been instances where he has been punished for not working with you or following your instructions.”

“He was doing sacrifices, Moro! What other reason do they need?!”

“We can’t prove that. All the information psychologists obtain during their conversations and observation are covered by doctor’s privilege. I can’t submit it as proof that you’re right.”

“What else did he say?”

“Today’s incident with the boy getting bumped over to a different virtual space wasn’t an infraction. All the recordings show that he was sent there accidentally, and then he was sent back once the error was discovered. Formally speaking, he didn’t violate any rules personally. There isn’t any proof of a hack, so the punishment was wrongfully applied.”

“He knew! That little squirt knew the whole time! He just needed a reason, and he found one. Damn it!”

“Miss Donovan, we can still watch, we just can’t pull him out.”

“All right, we’ll think of something.”

***

They approved my complaint, so the psychologist won’t be annoying me with her monologues any more. I found out that she was violating my rights back after the first punishment. If I hadn’t used my ace now, though, I’d have no idea where I’d be in a month. The ship sails on, after all.

The conversation with my “friend,” on the other hand, left me with a mixed impression. At least, he gave me a bunch of hints: he was from Lunar, and they were paying for my treatment where the insurance wouldn’t cover it. I kind of agree with his recommendation. I need to be able to manage my abilities, though I’m not going to curtail or limit them. There have been other instances where people got so deep into their thoughts that it led to their nervous system overheating. They were told to do anything that required complex calculations, so I chose to develop space ships that operate autonomously for long periods of time, the kind they use to explore the frontiers. The goal for that method is to create an area in the brain where all calculations are carried out. For instance, you can design a hydroponics or reactor compartment unit. Really, you just have to work within your brain to unload the streams of consciousness that interact with your sensory organs. It turns out that only one stream works with your external environment; the rest don’t have anything to do with it. Obviously, that’s much easier said than done. I’m going to have to pick up the information I need, too, which will take even me at least a year. And I still have to figure out the issue with my guardian before I really get to work. Fun! It’s time to distract myself with some real problems.

Anyway, Lunar won’t be bothering me, and they’ll do as much as they can to keep me healthy. I can’t overload my head, otherwise I’ll start living at the hospital. But I have a plan for my future in the real world and a way to execute it. I need to put it into effect while the doctors are keeping an eye on me in the med capsule. I couldn’t ask for a better situation.

Over the next four hours, I collect everything I can find on space ship building, the legal issues that involves, and training manuals. I put together all the books I need and a plan for how to learn what I need to know. Next, I need to absorb as much as I can.

I log into the game and start dumping everything I have back into my bag. We’re less than an hour away from Sural, and I can already see the city’s towers.

Today is the beginning of everything I’ve planned for. I don’t want to just be a child or a dark mage and swordsman. I know how to push past my limits and strength, though it’s going to take a lot of work.

Sural is part of the Manay Caliphate, which runs along the entire coastline. On the other side, it’s bordered by the Hashan Desert, home to a spot where I’m going to be spending some time leveling myself up.

The locals consider the desert a rotten place, and all kinds of monsters come crawling out to confirm their suspicions. There aren’t any normal monsters, though the desert itself does continual mental and fire damage. Somewhere in the center is a dead area. People who have gotten too close say that the most terrifying creatures and spirits they’ve ever seen live there: banshees, basilisks, gigantic snakes, monsters that defy description. There’s also an endless river of souls that flows out of the sky into the very center of the area. Of particular interest are the legends about a sand person and a hole into the underworld that opens out of the very center of the desert. I’d like to see what that’s about.

My enemies are strong! I remember how helpless I felt on the altar, my gullibility, my stupidity, my weakness. I need to fix my mistakes before I meet my first serious opponent in this world. Being weak…sensing your helplessness and limitations is revolting. It’s much better to be a monster than to be helpless and a nobody.

There’s no logic to my thoughts, and my emotions are getting in the way of my thinking. At times like this, I do everything I can to find my way out of the situation. Ah, there we go!

The local monster-hunting guild clears the surrounding lands of the most dangerous beasts. They don’t just take out bunnies and foxes; they’re the best of the players in the area. Judging by the description, any monster that makes it onto their list has advanced intelligence and immense strength.

There are all kinds of associations in the world: killers, thieves, marauders, couriers, blacksmiths, warriors, and all the rest. The monster-hunting guilt is the most profitable and dangerous.

The enemy is always varied and unpredictable, strong and intriguing. It’s a path chosen by loners who want to test their strength, and also adrenaline junkies. For me, it will be my main source of income for the near future.

I get through customs without any problems, even though I was worried they’d search me and find my ring of omnipotence. Technically, I’m clean. They don’t have any suspicions about me, and they don’t have the right to search my possessions. There’s nothing dark on me. And I’m certainly not about to show anyone my attribute window, not even on my deathbed. Time to figure out where I’ll be sleeping. I know who will advise me of a good place to crash.

“Geriont, before you leave, could you tell me of a place where I could live or just spend the night?”

“The funniest part is that those places are in the slums. They’re managed by former bandits and convicts.”

“Yeah, that sounds lovely. Is there anything better?”

“Anji, you’re in a port city. Where do you think you’re going to find yourself a spare room, damn it? It’s all jungles and deserts. You’re a long way from the backwoods, like in Heron, kid.”

“I get it, I get it. Just mark on my map where there are places I can stay.” Geriont looks over my megamap, unable to believe his eyes. I don’t know how much I paid for it, though it was definitely worth it. I know where practically all the ships in the world sail. I know all the cities with ports, too.

Nobody stopped me or offered me anything. I’m just your usual village boy in beggarly clothing now, the kind of kid only port children and petty thieves pay attention to. And all they do is take my measure. Nobody remembers me, and that’s good. The clothes I’m wearing make me the least noticeable person in the city.

Sural is a big trading port. The buildings are much richer than in Imir or Heron, with well plastered walls, masonry on the fronts of houses, sturdy roads made from colorful stone, buildings with towers, and whole manors. Life goes by in a hurry, something that is awfully unusual for me. In fact, I have to adjust my settings to clip out all the voices around me. The traders in the harbor sell imported goods, and the piers all lead straight to where they all are. There’s also a big bazaar in the city where players and locals alike trade. There’s nothing for me there, however. I need the auction and a bank.

It’s funny how kids in Project Chrysalis can’t use banks, though auctions are fine. If I sell something in one auction house, I can pick the money up at another, at least.

I find the guest house I’m looking for pretty quickly and rent a room for a month. Then, I link to the room. Now, if I die, I’ll respawn here. The owner casts a sad look at me, pity and compassion in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“No, it’s fine. Have a good stay.”

It’s only after that he sweeps the money off the desk and into his pocket.

On my way back to the port, I wonder to myself why the guest house owner behaved the way he did, though nothing comes to mind. But that’s when I come across a kid looking like a bandit who might be exactly the right person to help me. I need someone who knows the rights kids have in this world as well as the loopholes in them.

“Hey, what do you need?” He’s sitting there looking at me with disgust, but that’s perfect for me. His answers will be closer to the truth.

“If I start a fight here, will the guards get involved?”

He jumped up instantly.

“What, you want a piece of this? Looking to take my spot?” I don’t really stop his fist; I just catch it after he hits me and tighten my grip until his health starts to drop.

“I didn’t touch you, so this is your fault if the guards show up. Answer the question. Do the guards get involved if a fight breaks out?”

“Yes.”

I relax my grip. He’s just a kid, and there’s no sense hurting him and giving him a debuff.

“They break up fistfights, and they lock you up for twenty-four hours if you have a weapon.”

“See?” I let his hand go. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want answers to my questions. You’re an orphan, right?”

“Yes.”

“You sell information about cargo and people?”

“Yes, I’m an information collector at the guild. Who sent you?”

“Nobody. Next question: what do adults get for hitting you?”

“If I’m the instigator and there are witnesses, then nothing. If it’s unreasonable aggression, they get a month in the mines for a simple hit. Six months for the second violation, character deleted for the third. There aren’t any psychopaths like that, though.”

“What if two guys are holding you, and I kill you?”

The boy crouched, about ready to run. He steps away from me. I need to get the situation under control.

“It’s just a question. That’s not going to happen.”

“You and your questions… They would delete the accounts of whoever was holding me since we’re just kids. You’d get a week of punishment, which is the worst you can get. They’ll make your parents take responsibility for your actions.”

“That’s all? But I killed you! All I’d get is a week in lockup?”

Is that all Rachel got? For sending me to Hell?

“That’s only if there are witnesses or a god pays attention. The ones holding me would still get their accounts deleted, but you could get off scot-free. They give you the red mark of a murder for a week after the first time, a year after the tenth. Work that off, though, and you’re done.”

Animals! Nothing happened to her. I’m positive she wasn’t punished.

“Sorry for bothering you, and sorry for the questions.”

Even back when I was in Hell, I tried to get information about what was going on in the outside world. The only problem was that there were very few players and even less to be learned. The only system message I’d received the whole time had been on the first day I found myself there, and that was the one about the new god Leon appearing in the small pantheon. Rachel and that ritual had to have something to do with that, and Bernard, too. I’m not sure what he wanted out of it, though.

I was looking for ways to get out of Hell back then, and now I’m looking for a way to get back home and be prepared to hit back if there’s a threat. I’m never going to forgive what happened.

Everything was so simple. I started off looking to use Project Chrysalis to earn some pocket money, but then I’d gotten my family, father and mama. I had a home. Now, having been through Hell, I’m trying to get back there. There could be people there willing to kill me just for existing. Although, on the other hand, they all think I deleted my character and made a new one. It’s been a year and a half, after all. Conjecture isn’t enough; I want total advantage in a counterattack if there’s a problem.

This whole time, I’ve been sitting near the boy and thinking my own thoughts. I have another question.

“How do I find out if someone has forbidden skills?”

“I’m not a guard, and I don’t know everything. I guess, you can catch them red-handed or find witnesses.”

“Can you make anyone show you their attribute window?”

“No-o,” the boy replied with a wave of his hand. “Although, if you accuse someone falsely, they may show it to prove their innocence.”

“That’s so simple. What about the forbidden arts? I mean, necromancy and blood and all of that.”

“For that, you have to get the item yourself or have the owner show off its attributes.”

“So, there could be a necromancer with a staff walking around the city pretending he’s an ordinary mage?”

“Of course. You just can’t use skills like that on people.”

“What’s the punishment if you do?”

“Your reputation drops, and you’re kicked out of the city. There aren’t many of those, though. After a couple mistakes, their instructors always keep moving.”

The boy turned out to be nice enough and behaved the way an ordinary twelve-year-old would. Just like other orphans, he found a family in Project Chrysalis and softened considerably. The anger at the world and its injustice that he used to have disappeared. I get it, really, and I’m even jealous…

“Thanks. Good luck.”

There isn’t anything else he can tell me.

Sural is split up into five big regions: the port in the eastern side, the upper city in the north, the slums in the north-east, the market district in the center, and the crafting quarter in the west. My next job is to sign up for the monster-hunting guild which is near the western gate, the one leading into the jungle.

The guild turns out to be an interesting place. To get in, you have to pick up any order and complete it for free, after which you get access to all the quests in the region. There’s a ranking system that goes from one to ten. After getting in, I’ll be at that tenth rank, which means I’ll only be able to move up to the ninth after I’ve completed five contracts. The higher your rank, the better your reward and the more difficult the quests.

The walls in the guild building are plastered with posters about quests. It turns out that the caliphs have plenty of problems with monsters.

A girl is sitting at the administrator’s desk, and her green robe embroidered with leaves and flowers tell me she’s probably a life mage. That’s pretty typical. Even her staff has leaves sprouting from it.

“Hello there. I’d like to join the guild.”

“The rules are standard: pick any quest and complete it. Bring us proof that you did, and you’re in,” the girl replies without paying me the least bit of attention.

“I’m aware of that. How will I know what kind of opponent I’ll be facing?”

“Around here, we have monsters between Level 100 and Level 250. For tenth-rank hunters, there are monsters between Level 150 and Level 165. The pay depends on how difficult the quest is within the context of that rank.” It’s only then that she looks up at me. “Although, you really don’t have any business being here.”

“I’m not breaking any rules, am I?” I ask with a triumphant smile as I go pick out my first contract.

Ten kilometers outside the city, there’s a giant snake which patrols have seen twice by the road. That’s what I have to kill, and I need to bring back its tail or scales as proof that it’s dead.

The girl from the guild forgot to tell me that it’s a local boss like all the other monsters.

I notice the snake before it notices me, again, thanks to my boosted perception. As soon as I stop, it charges.

Monster, Heartbreaker Snake, Level 160

Just a second into the battle, I’ve picked up all kinds of information. For example, the beast is immune to stunning and has a very tough skin. One blow from its tail sends me flying into the bushes, and it’s from there that I send a fatal shot at it. The boulder I send smashing into it takes off all its health and leaves it flopping in the weeds. No matter how good its resistance is, it didn’t have a chance of surviving 25000 damage. Although, it turns out to be a shapeshifter—after death, it turns into a human. Where am I supposed to get the tail? Do I just stick the body in my bag and take the whole thing?

Another of the reptiles, a copy of the one I just killed, comes flying out of the bushes. Hell taught me a lot, including how never to relax. Thanks to that, I’m not taken unawares. My imp eye already told me where the enemy was, and my experience working in pitch darkness in the mine told which way it was going. I hit it with fire. The whole body burns, along with the scales, though this one isn’t a shape-shifter. The tail is in with the loot. There’s a bow, along with gauntlets, two rings, and forty-five gold, and all the items are rare. Hunting could turn out very well for me.

When I bring the meter-long tail back to the guild, I find out that monsters often come with a retinue.

“Am I in, miss?”

Reputation with the Manay Caliphate: +1

Current reputation: Neutral (999 until respect)

Reputation in Sural: +10

Current reputation: Neutral (999 until respect)

You joined the monster-hunting guild.

You’re a tenth-rank monster hunter.

“Hela. You can call me Miss Hela, and yes, you’re in. Give me your name, and I’ll add it to the registry.”

“Sagie.”

“You are hereby a monster hunter. This is very unusual. Children never join the guild!”

“You never know, Miss Hela. You’re a mage, yes?”

“Yep. You want to be a mage, too?” She’s young and beautiful, and her girlish hat and staff, which I didn’t have the chance to really inspect last time, go well with her. I’m pretty sure she’s a druid, although I have no idea what they call themselves in Project Chrysalis.

“I would, Miss Hela. Is there anywhere around here where I can buy books on magic? I mean, books with spell seals for mages of all specialties and levels.”

“Well, isn’t that something! No, you couldn’t earn that much in a year.”

“I’m a hard worker. Could you just tell me where I can find them?”

“There’s a mage shop in the center next to the market stalls, and that’s the only place in the city where they sell books. Are you sure that’s what you need?”

Women really do all love to pry. They always want to know everything.

“I need spell seals and a general idea of what my enemy might use. Also, I want to learn how to quickly make them.”

“You don’t have an inscription skill, so you’ll have to make them manually. You won’t be able to make them automatically with the skill.”

“I know, Miss Hela. Okay, I’m going to take one more quest. What was the reward for that one, by the way?”

“A hundred gold. They ate a traveler, so the reward was a little higher. In those cases, there’s a mark on the announcement telling you that it’s unusually dangerous: a red check for each ordinary person killed and a circle for each hunter.”

After taking a quest for a lich and his retinue, I go looking for the bookstore. It’s easy to find. There’s an enormous sign in the shape of a book, and the picture of an eye means that they sell things there. The shop’s owner is called Gerome. My question surprises him, and it takes him ten minutes to pull out the books and agree on a price.

“With a discount for an order of this size, two hundred and thirty thousand gold.”

“Wow, I don’t have that kind of money. Could I offer you something out of the ordinary?”

The owner knew a kid wouldn’t have that kind of money, though he was bored. Not many people were dropping by.

“Offer me what?”

“What would you think about exchanging your books for some that I have?”

“That depends on what you can give me.”

“Books on mysticism and magic siege. They’re limited editions, not available for sale.”

“Are you offering me forbidden books?”

Ooh, look at his eyes light up!

“Yes. This is a caliphate, and a port city, so the laws are laxer than the ones in Ovidius. You can always find someone looking for books like these.”

Gerome bends over and continues in a whisper.

“Do you even realize the risk I would be taking by buying books like that?”

“You think I’m trying to turn you over to the guard?”

“Exactly.”

“I’ll give you one book today. You can hide it or do whatever else you want with it, and I’ll come back tomorrow. If you’re happy with everything, we’ll talk again. I’m the one with the big risk. These books are really valuable.”

Gerome straightens back up and walks around the shop before replying.

“Okay.”

You’re a trusting soul, Gerome. They use deals like that to blackmail people at the orphanage, and I still have the logs that say how I gave him the book.

I spend practically the whole night hunting monsters—undead, a giant toad, a ghost, and a black panther. None of them can sleep, apparently. Then, in real life, I grab a snooze for six hours before jumping back into the game. It’s time to pick up the money for the ship and its cargo.

Geriont is waiting for me at the auction building just as we agreed. The frigate went for sixty-four thousand gold, meaning that my share is an eye-watering forty-eight thousand. Maybe, I should be hunting pirates.

“I’m leaving in an hour, so you be careful. The pirates may try to get their revenge.”

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself.”

There was a reason I set up the meeting to be right next to the auction: I need a ton of blood malachite. It has some surprising qualities I’d like to exploit.

It’s used as mana storage in this world, and the fact that it’s hard to find is why it’s so valuable. Uncut malachite is cheaper, so I buy up everything that’s being sold at a decent price. As a semiprecious metal, its low durability makes it a poor option for storing mana. It’s generally used as stationary storage in cities and fortresses.

After all my purchases, I’m left with three and a half thousand gold and six kilograms of malachite. Geriont held up his end of the deal, too. I have all the strongest monsters marked on my map, along with information about a healer mage and a tattoo master. The first works at the arena; the second lives in the port district. That’s who I need right now.

Bor, the master, has his shop set up on the second floor of the port administration building.

“Good afternoon. Could I order a tattoo?”

“Certainly. What would you like? Which gang tattoo are you looking for?”

“Gang tattoo?” Where am I? “No, I need something else.”

“Oh, you aren’t local?” Bor lights up a pipe. He’s a hefty, thickset guy who looks to be from the south. “Almost all the local kids join a gang and get themselves a tattoo. Lots of the clans have their own markings, too. They give you a permanent bonus and let the clans keep track of their fighters—a mark and a clan sign, both.”

“Quite the customs around here. Hey, what does the tattoo master skill influence? It’s a craftsman skill, right?”

“Yes, I’m a craftsman. The tattoo skill lets you make bigger and more detailed drawings, and the crafting skill boosts what the ink gives you.”

“Thanks. So, I can choose my own drawing?”

“Yep.”

“And what about keeping the drawing a secret?”

The master laughs.

“Kid, I’m a master. I’ve lived this long because I can hold my tongue, and I have the highest skill in this whole caliphate. I’m fourth in the guild, in the world, in other words. Don’t insult me with questions like that.”

That’s something I noticed back when I was in Hell: with more streams of consciousness comes an improved ability to think, and not just the speed at which your thoughts come. I didn’t go crazy when I lost everything I’d gotten in Hell because I was able to react to the situation quickly and correctly. Right now, it’s the same thing. I know how I can regain the master’s trust.

“I sincerely apologize. Insulting you was the last thing on my mind, master. It’s just that I need to do a whole lot of different tattoos, and they’re all secret. Your mastery is exactly what I need for the kind of complex, interesting work I’m looking at.”

What do people need who have the recognition of their peers? They want a challenge for their skills and experience, the kind of thing that pushes them to work to and beyond the limit of their abilities. And that’s exactly what I have for the master.

“Kid, it’s hard to surprise me. What do you want?”

“Magic seals right on my body.”

The master soured immediately.

“You call that interesting? The seals would be destroyed the first time you use them, and whoever activates them will get a serious punishment for harming a child. You’re no mage. You can’t do that yourself.”

Eleven flames appearing at once in the room change the master’s mind.

“What if I give you ink that doesn’t disappear after the seal is used? And, as you can see, I’m a mage, so I don’t need anyone to activate the seals.”

Bor stares at the eleven flames circling me. Astonishment, stupefaction, interest, and a mountain of questions chase each other across his face.

“That kind of ink doesn’t exist. Although, if you’re asking about it… Do you know how to make it?”

“I need to understand how ink is made. I know how to make it impossible to destroy for my tattoos, though I don’t know how to make it in the first place.”

“I usually make my ink myself, but we can do something a little different. Bring me the basics and pick a color, and I’ll make it. My skill is higher than yours, so the effect will be much better.”

“Sounds good. Are you sure you want to do this? It’s not exactly…legal, though there’s nothing that terrible about it.”

“If you only knew what kinds of people I’ve done tattoos for, you wouldn’t ask stupid questions like that. Who do you think a tattoo master working in a port city might have as their main customers?”

“Got it.” Sailors, pirates, marauders, thieves, killers, and other shady characters. “I’m going to need a month to get everything together.”

Bor sours again, apparently languishing away from boredom.

“I can get the main ingredients together in just a few days. The problem is finding the books with the seals and putting together the money to pay for your services, and that’s going to be what takes a while.” The master nods. “I promise, I’ll be back.”

“Get out of here. I’ll need some time to prepare the ink, so bring me the main ingredients in three weeks.”

I make it within his timeframe, primarily by taking care of a whole list of contracts at the guild. My boosted reputation gets me a price cut at the book store, and the books I don’t need cover part of the cost. It takes me two weeks to collect a hundred and fifty thousand gold, though I have to pay for the master, too. I spend the last week putting together another hundred thousand.

***

There’s yet another knowledge check going on at the orphanage. Vaalsie would do anything to boost our budget, which he’s long since had his dirty hands in, and he presents me as a promising wunderkind. Once a year, his usual distaste for me turns into veneration for a week. Yeah, right! I’m his cash cow, the one who brings the shower of golden milk.

Last year, they took me to a child development center on the fourth level, where I was only too happy to blow the interview. The test was easy.

This year, I’m dumped into an aerocar and taken to the education center, where I’m given a whole bunch of tests in a separate room.

***

Eliza kept an eye on Anji through the one-way mirror in his room. The boy was too busy taking tests to figure out that he was being watched.

The current education system assumed that citizens would study materials that interested them, and then pick a specialty and start picking up information specific to that field. The general education was just enough to give everyone an overall picture of society and culture, the minimum citizens needed in all the colonies and stations. The course lasted six years. At twelve, children had their basic education, and they spent the next six working on their specialty. That delineation was added to lessen the amount of information being dumped on children.

Anji finished his education when he was five. Back then, people thought it was just the stars coming together for him: the boy passed one test right after the previous one, and then three more yearly exams over the course of the next year. Currently, he was moving past the general track and starting to put together information on different specialties. The logs at the orphanage’s educational center showed that he was exploring ship-building, engineering, electrification, hydroponic facilities, force fields, and a number of other areas. At thirteen and a half, he had almost finished the basic program.

He just saved an enormous chunk of information and used a virtual space to master it, not looking to pick up unwanted attention at the orphanage. At thirteen, he had no problem with how fast he learned things, considering it the norm and practically laughing at the other kids’ attempts. Back then, two years previously, he’d got into a fight with a kid taking the test at the next desk. It was then that he stopped talking with anyone else. Because the fight took place outside the orphanage, Eliza had only been able to get information about it two weeks before, back when she was thinking about what the boy had said. “You created a situation that hurt me, whether you meant to or not.” Even if it wasn’t exactly right, it was deep. Children don’t think the same way adults do, and Anji had expressed what was on his mind the only way he knew how. There was no way she could miss that depth of thought, and that was why she had set to work studying the boy’s mental capacities. She’d set up a separate room in the center, Vaalsie having approved her idea. He had an interest in it, too.

Anji stopped and looked directly at the one-way mirror Eliza was standing behind. His angry scowl was fixed on her, and soon he opened his mouth.

“Miss Donovan, children don’t know how stationary generators for force fields work, though they’re very good at sensing the electromagnetic waves all living creatures give off. The more tense the person is, the stronger the waves.”

He tossed the test away and walked out of the room.

***

All I wanted was to leave the orphanage quietly and peacefully. I didn’t instigate the fight, I didn’t make noise, and I didn’t say anything. Basically, I did everything I could to avoid drawing attention. The other idiots have no desire to work for them, and all they want to do is destroy what’s better than them or beyond their comprehension… That’s when I stopped talking. I was moved to another sector in the orphanage, and things worked out there well enough at the beginning.

But no, those little monsters can never get enough. They slipped me special exams to test my knowledge in different areas, all after I took care to mess up on the modules for the previous academic year to make sure I flew under the radar. I’ve spent the last couple of months looking for ways to get myself transferred to a private orphanage in Arpa. If I passed the tests for my basic education, they might not let me go. There’s a law Vaalsie could use to keep me here as a promising citizen.

It’s specifically because of that that I do my best to hide my mental capacities. I’ve been thinking a lot better since I picked up the other streams of consciousness. Even if I’m working on external data with just two streams, the multiplier is significant. I can use up to four without threatening my health and causing a nosebleed, so I leave the other streams of consciousness to work within my consciousness by calculating plans and goals.

It took me two months to set up that thought process. Currently, I’m superior to your average person intellectually, though I don’t want just anyone to be able to use me for their own purposes. Working with a bunch of streams always damages your health, but this way I can at least control it and mitigate the risks.

Again, I have to force things along. Vaalsie found out from Eliza that I was collecting information on ship-building, and now they’re keeping track of their cash cow—me—to make sure they get their special budget grants.

I’m free until the end of the day, and there aren’t any punishments, so I can get back to work on freeing myself. I have to put my plan into action now if I want it to be ready in a year.

Two months ago, I started putting together information on ways to get out from under Vaalsie and Eliza’s guardianship. I’m going to need a different guardian I can control, turning down anyone who wants information about me and my business. Of course, I could flash Eliza and her limitations the red flag and be done with her, but that would require setting up a private orphanage for promising children. It sounds crazy, but that’s how I can trigger the process for moving kids to an orphanage that’s better for their development and well-being. That practice is widespread throughout the space colonies. Governments, after all, do what they can for their best.

I’m an orphan who holds no value for the colony until I pick up a basic education, and that’s why the transfer protocol for moving me to another orphanage in a different nation should be approved. Currently, I’m ballast the station could buoy itself by cutting ties with. I have to get into other sectors in the station and use an anonymous account to collect information via usual terminals—the same capsules, just for anyone to use. I store all the information I collect in anonymous accounts. I already have an anonymous bank account, but there isn’t any money left in it. Everything went toward covering small purchases via virtual spaces.

For a plan like mine, I’m going to need a lot of money. Property in Arpa is a lot more expensive than in our colony, and I need more than just a simple room for a child. I need a small building, fake administrators, and other kids. I have my plan, though I need to get the process moving. I even found someone in Arpa who can create the orphanage and look for promising kids.

Malcolm Shultz takes care of problems in “my name.” The primary advantage anonymous accounts offer is the ability to choose any avatar for a virtual space. Everyone in virtual reality now thinks I’m a man around forty-five years of age, wearing a sharp suit, with a bald head, and round glasses. My face is intelligent, and the space looks like the office of a successful businessman from Lunar. And there’s the person I need to talk to.

“Hi, Malcolm.”

“Hi, Mr. Bork.”

I’d worked my image around an immigrant from Lunar, David Bork. That’s the mask I use in virtual space, and it opens lots of doors usual citizens can’t get through.

“How are things? Any problems?”

“No, everything’s good, Mr. Bork. We got permission to found an orphanage for gifted children, and the case we brought earned us some money from the government and a big discount on the building. Your name won’t be anywhere near the list of managers at the new orphanage. We should be fine for people, and we can get to work hiring them as soon as the money arrives. We’ll need a list of promising children to include your protégé in, and there are just two questions. First is the money—seven million credits. I realize that’s a lot of money, and I know you’ll need time to pull it together. Second is the list of kids. We’ll get access to it as soon as we have the building and equipment.”

“Got it. You’ll have the money in three months, and I want everything else taken care of by then. It needs to be wrapped up within two weeks of when you get it. That includes the list of kids. We’ll talk over it separately as soon as we have the building.”

“Okay, that works.”

“How many kids will the orphanage hold?”

“Fifty. That’s the minimum according to local law.”

“Who will be the director, and how much will running the place cost?”

“My brother Carl will be the director. He has the right experience and qualifications. It will be around fifty thousand a month, including both the administrative side and the personnel. Everything above that will be approved separately, and I’ll be working as consultant and accountant.”

“Okay, that’s good on my end. I have to go, so I’ll see you.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Bork.”

I’d like to take care of myself, but I’m going to have to do that as someone else in order to avoid attracting Malcolm and Carl’s attention. I’ll add myself to the main list of orphans.

Being an adult is hard! You can’t forget the gestures, the body language, the intonation, the way you talk. I spent a whole week practicing debates to put myself in the right frame of mind. Now, there’s the test at the education center, Eliza and Vaalsie…all at the worst time possible. Malcolm is a smart guy. He wants to find his place at the feeding trough and live off the orphanage, though I need him for now so I can get out of the pickle I’m in.

There shouldn’t be any problem with the money, since I can pull it out of the game at a rate of two to one. That is, one gold coin is worth half a credit. Project Chrysalis is only too happy to have money brought into it and doesn’t offer information about the financial operations run by the players to third parties. Lunar keeps a close eye on the in-game economy and attempts to launder money.

I figure that I was able to earn two hundred and fifty thousand gold in the game, or a hundred and twenty-five thousand credits, so I need to boost my income twenty times over to make sure I have the amount Malcolm needs. And I won’t get that just by farming.

The most money the game has ever seen came from a dragon killed in a raid by two thousand people. Everything they got came to about seven million gold. Looks like there are going to be two fewer dragons in the world. The only thing I have to figure out is how to kill something one thousand and two hundred levels above me, not to mention all the resistance to damage they have.

***

Anji was able to get out of the full test, though even the data they got showed that the boy was well past the basic education level. It wasn’t even that unexpected that he wouldn’t finish the tests.

The ability to sense strong electromagnetic fields was already proven, of course, but using it deliberately? Anji hadn’t just figured out what was going on with the test; he knew who was behind the mirror, too.

Vaalsie cursed for a while, getting out the anger he felt towards the boy for cutting the tests short. The less-than-intelligent supervisor had no idea what had happened, or that there was a genius under his guardianship. The next thing to figure out was why Anji was hiding his remarkable intellect and what the boy was after. The incident with the suspension spoke to the fact that Ganet didn’t do anything without a reason. He could wait years for the right moment, and then use the ace he’d had up his sleeve the whole time.

He definitely wasn’t going to be making contact.

***

The smell of the sea and fish, the cries of the seagulls, and Bor’s voice muttering under his breath whirl around me as I lie on my stomach. The master is giving me the first tattoo on my back. The aroma of his tobacco reminds me of father, all the times when he sat out on the porch with a pipe between his teeth.

What can you do with six kilograms of blood malachite? I used it to create a mix of malachite and my own blood, and that was what the tattoo master used as the base for the ink. Blood magic and a little alchemy got me a solution for everything I need. Now, the recoil from using the “scroll” will be suppressed by my body. The experience I had making potions in Hell told me that malachite is similar to blood on its own, dissolving well into boiling liquid. That’s nothing compared to the strength it gains, however. I’m a mage by knowledge and skill if not by class. Cool!

“It’s done!”

Tattoo received: Dragon breath spell seal

Effect: When activated, lets you use the dragon breath spell. The damage the spell does is determined by your Intellect and Fire Magic skills, and you will take 5% of the damage the spell does when using it.

Mana cost: 900

Tattoo effect:

Intellect: +5%

Wisdom: +5%

Morale: +5%

Additional effect from the ink:

+610 mana reserve, is not destroyed when used

“Well, what do you think?”

Bor looks as happy as a clam. He charged me a thousand gold for each tattoo—a premium, but one I was willing to pay. For something like what he had done for me, it was nothing.

“I can’t see it, but I like the effect. Bor, how high is your skill if you can make something like that?”

“A little higher than five hundred. There’s a reason I’m in the guild’s top five.”

“I believe you. If you can do a tattoo like that, you should be number one.”

“No, it’s all about the ink. My skill just boosts the bonus and number of effects.” The master gets up and massages his back.

“You relax for a little while—I want to test the effect.”

Bor starts cleaning his equipment, and I can’t wait to see this thing in action. I decide to “breathe” right out the window.”

“Dragon breath!”

The effect is better than I could have imagined. From below, I hear curses and threats aimed at the bastard who decided to burn everything to a crisp. We’re on the second floor of the port authority building, and the window is charred, the glass is shattered, and the whole room is practically baked. Bor even fell off his chair.

Damage taken: 880 (ignored: 0)

20/900

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 36/second

The recoil really hit me hard. A piece of skin is even burned. After the devil’s little joke, I lost almost all of my resistance across the board. I almost just killed myself.

“Idiot! What the hell are you doing?”

“Bor, calm down. I’ll pay for the damage, it’s okay.”

“He thinks it’s okay!”

“Bor! You just got to see what your masterpiece can do.”

“Screw my masterpiece—you’re going to burn down my whole shop! I want no more experiments out of you, and also a thousand gold to pay for the damage.”

“Okay.”

“Lie back down here before you burn the building down.”

Yeah, baby! There was a good reason I wanted to find the best tattoo master in the city. Both the detail and the size of the picture are important, and Bor’s mastery is high enough to keep the tattoo just a quarter of the size of my palm. It’s so small! But the effect is fantastic. The most powerful ingredients for ink are blood and malachite worked over with blood magic, and the craftsman and tattoo skills increase the number of bonuses as well as the size and strength of the effect. Yep, this is going to be my blade. Next, I need a shield.

“Hey, idiot in the underwear, lie down! We’re going to be busy until tonight.”

“You got it, my lord!”

Bor laughs so hard he drops his tools.

Can you describe the joy an achievement like that gives you? For non-mages, tattoos like that are useless. They don’t have skills or high intellect or wisdom. For mages, they’re also useless. What’s the point if you have spells you can use where the only recoil is the time you have to wait to use them again? Otherwise, mages would be killed every time they used a spell.

It takes all day to finish the tattoos on my back. To save space, we make them really small, and I focus on basic spells. Tomorrow, we’re going to get to work on the harder interdisciplinary stuff that costs five thousand gold apiece.

I spend half the night pushing myself to the limit, wanting to try all my new acquisitions. It’s a little piece of heaven where I’m a monster with an ocean of mana. Two more completed contracts give me another five hundred gold when I bring back the crushed, charred bodies of the monsters, though I can’t use my most powerful spells until I boost my stamina and resistance. Tomorrow, I’m going to get something far stronger than anything I have so far.

Morning in the port means hundreds of boats and the hubbub of people working on them. We spend the entire day working on six new tattoos, and we finish with my whole body covered in them. The simple ones are on my back, the more complex are on my chest, and my neck, arms, and legs are clear. It may not look aesthetically pleasing, but it’s awfully effective.

“Attribute window!”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 90

Agility: 90

Stamina: 90

Intellect: 116

Wisdom: 116

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 90

Athleticism: 90

Morale: 116

Survivability: 90

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 45 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 225 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 16410 (wisdom*10)

Health: 900 (stamina*10)

Strength: 1000 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 900/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 1160/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 900/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 36 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 1

Resistance

Physical damage: 1.72% (damage ignored: up to 421/second)

Poison: 8.66% (damage ignored: up to 25811/second)

Fire: 0.02% (damage ignored: up to 36/second)

Skills

Cooking: 250

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 250

Swimming: 250

Breath-holding: 250

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 250

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 166

Necromancy: 250

Blood magic: 250

Chimerology: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Artifact creation: 250

Poison-making: 25

Ointment-making: 25

Metal reinforcing: 25

Wood reinforcing: 25

Body enhancement: 25

Professions

Herbalist: 250

Fisherman: 250

Tailor: 250

Blacksmith: 250

Carpenter: 250

Miner: 25

Skills

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

One of our own

Shroud of Darkness

Gifts

Meeting deferred

The game limits you to no more than twenty-five tattoos, no matter where or how large they are. The classes have their own specialized tattoos, and even whole sets, all of which offer a particular effect. Currently, I have nineteen ordinary and six complex spells as seals, with each subsequent one boosting the overall effect by 1%. And that’s more than enough for me—the important thing is that it doesn’t influence their secondary effects. I have an ocean of mana! My wisdom, morale, and intellect are all up 29%, and I have access to stronger spells. My blade is forged; now, I need to sharpen it.

To collect all the money I need, I’m going to have to destroy a lot of high-level monsters, and I know a great place where nobody will bother me. It will even give me an excellent chance to work on my resistance. I can’t wait to see what eleven streams of dragon breath looks like! I’m not going to use my strongest spells yet—they would definitely kill me. Hey, I have a meteor! Hm, what would happen with eleven of them? I can’t wait until I get to Level 1.

A month of farming monsters with the local guild earns me respect in Sural, and I only have thirty contracts to go until I hit esteem. I have seventy completed contracts under my first-rank belt. I’m evil incarnate, but I’m still wearing Level 1 sandals. That means I need to buy new clothes, as the old ones are fraying and about to uncover my tattoos.

About to set off on my long journey, I need to think about how to pick up some money.

“Hi, Miss Hela.”

“Hey, Sagie. Looking for another quest? You’re already up there with the leaders—leave some of the quests for the others.”

She was getting her giggles in at the expense of “the others.” Hela loves it that a kid has been able to complete way more contracts than the adult players.

“That’s nothing. For a beautiful girl like you, I’d find a way to the center of the Hashan Desert.”

Hela’s face went from laughing to serious in an instant.

“You’ve never joked once since I’ve known you. Was that your first?”

“Nope. I mean, I’m doing it for myself, but I like it when you compliment me. You’ve been the only one to all this time, and that means a lot to me.”

“So, you want to take a trip out into the desert? The aura out there is so bad the caravanners and marauders don’t even go in there! There isn’t a single person or oasis in the desert.”

“I’m not afraid of auras or monsters. And I’m a kid, so I don’t need food.”

“Got it.”

“Anyway, I’m here to find out if there are any contracts for killing monsters in the Hashan Desert.”

“Yes. The caliph offers ten gold for every monster you kill, and you get the money automatically from the monsters you kill, but they’re really strong. All of them are local bosses, and people have even come across some raid bosses out there. The desert is teeming with them. Sometimes, they even come out to the outskirts of the desert.”

“Basically, it’s a nasty place you shouldn’t go to if you’re not ready for it. Perfect. Where do I get the contract?”

“Head up to the fourth floor. There’s a board with open quests.”

“Thanks, have a good day!”

There’s one problem with the quest: you need a pack animal for all the trophies, and it has to be highly resistant to fire and mental damage. That kind of damage is constant throughout the desert, and it only gets worse the farther in you go. Time for a trip to the market square.

There’s a whole row where they sell animals, including pack animals. I’m offered everything short of ghosts and dragons, though I can’t find anything I like. Instead, I head over to see the seller with the widest selection.

“Hello there. Which of your pack animals has the most resistance to mental and fire damage?”

“What, heading out into the desert?”

“Yep.”

“Croots are all that survive out there.” He points at the large body of a lizard with thick skin and bone plates. It’s as big as an aerocar, has six legs, and each of the legs is the size of my torso.

“Oh, so you’re trying to sell me your most expensive pack animal.”

“No, it’s just that that’s the only one that can live in the desert.” He forgot to tell me that the creature really was his most expensive one.

“It probably eats its weight every day! It’ll die in the desert on the second day.”

“Well, take some grass with you, buy a wagon, and ride in that.”

“…” There isn’t much else you can say to a stupid idea like that. I’d rather carry everything myself than buy that creature.

I’ve never seen a dumber attempt to fool a buyer. And that’s with a boosted reputation? At least, it gave me an idea.

I end up buying a one-seater cart with bags hung on it and harness…myself. Yup. I haul the empty cart straight through the city, with everyone turning to look at me—all I need is a horse mask. Hm, that’s a decent idea.

Just like that, I get through the area and start out toward the desert. Running isn’t hard, my strength is practically unlimited, and I can empower myself if I need to. My cart, from what I can remember, is called a rickshaw, and I’m the chauffeur.

I run through the forest all day, then cross the steppe and reach the desert as evening breaks. This is a good spot to spend the night. I camouflage the cart and log out to sleep in real life.

The best mornings are the ones that start with a run, and mine is no different. The local beasts are so happy that meat is running up to them that they make the mistake of trying to taste me. Their skins and trophies are the first I add to my collection, and I get to the desert by noon. Then, I’m on my way to the center.

Damage taken: 100 (ignored: 0)

800/900

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 16/second

Ah, how I’ve missed those messages. It’s time to take off the bandage with the poison, otherwise I’ll die inadvertently. There’s nothing but sand, dunes, and lots of monsters in every direction. The latter attack me as soon as I catch their eye, and they all have mountains of health.

The desert is enormous, stretching almost two thousand kilometers deep into the continent. Over the course of the day, I make it about thirty kilometers and reach the limit of my health.

Damage taken: 1000 (ignored: 106)

108/900

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 108/second

Resistance to fire: +0.01%

Thermal damage ignored up to 122/second

The numbers look minuscule, but I need to boost my resistance. All of my new spells have a recoil, most of which are capable of killing me. The incident with dragon breath showed me that I would have died if I’d had just one more point of intellect. But I have an idea for how to handle that problem, and a pack of sand dogs is exactly what I need. Where are my spikes?

Monster, Sand Dog, Level 244

After a quick battle, I stun and paralyze my victims. I’m never going to find five hundred of them here, not to mention twenty-five hundred, but I’m nothing if not patient. I can wait for my dozen to turn into a hundred. In the meantime, they can lie there paralyzed—we have lots of work ahead of us.

Back in Heron, when I was working with Claude, I found out that sand turns into glass when it reaches four hundred degrees. It takes me a few hours just to get the area ready for me to work. I’m a kid in the world’s largest sandbox! By the time I’m finished, I’m up to forty victims, and I haven’t even been the one doing the attacking. It’s all their fault for jumping me.

Now, I can use my ritual for sharing pain and health to boost my attributes. The first ten dogs will be perfect for that.

An enormous column of fire bursts from my palm and turns the sand into glass.

Damage taken: 1135 (ignored: 152)

458831/461200

Resistance to fire: +0.01%

Thermal damage ignored up to 167/second

That’s not much. What if I try two streams?

Damage taken: 2270 (ignored: 167)

457716/461200

It still isn’t that much. I need to try everything at once and see what I come up with.

This time, the flame isn’t orange; it’s a blinding white. I even hear a roar and get a debuff—I’m blinded. It feels like I could go up like paper in the face of the terrifying might springing out of my hands. Did I really do that?

Damage taken: 12845 (ignored: 167)

446226/461200

Resistance to fire: +0.02%

Thermal damage ignored up to 221/second

In front of me, the melted sand has taken the shape of a cone. It hisses and crackles. It may not be more than fifteen meters long, but what an effect. If I took just 5% of the damage, the total was twenty times as much, or a quarter of a million. Shooting that at the sand dogs would have incinerated them and their loot. They only have 45000 health each.

But I’m getting distracted. I need to prepare the area, especially now that my fireworks have scared off everything in the vicinity.

It takes me two hours to collect my first experimental group made out of a hundred monsters. I should take a screenshot of me with a mountain of paralyzed bodies in the background. There are giant snakes, dogs, overgrown ants, and even something like sand fairies. Those last ones are what take the most time—they’re the only monsters who attack with magic, so I have to spend another six hours on them. But with my health boosted to half a million, it isn’t their lucky day.

Once the altar is in place on the red-hot glass, I start tracing the ritual seal. I actually have more victims than I need, so I use the first set to make a ring out of twilight iron. They are, incidentally, the most expensive items at the auction, already with gems set in them. They may not be mithril, but there’s a reason I learned how to reinforce metal in Heron. Everything’s been planned for a while now. All eight of the blanks spend a week boiling in my blood, right in the middle of the ritual seal using mana depositories. That’s what the remainder of the malachite is used for.

And now, it’s time to get to work on the most exciting part of my evening.

Monster-eater

Once upon a time, a famed killer lived in the world. His victims were all monsters in human skin: vampires, werewolves, witches, cannibals, and others. The killer himself came from a tribe where you eat your enemy to inherit their strength. Nobody could catch the killer, and the only trace he left was a ring. Nobody could understand if the killer was possessed and therefore eaten by his ring.

Effect:

Intellect +5

Wisdom +5

Morale +5

Stamina +5

Athleticism +5

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

It’s a good thing I boiled it in my blood. I got five effects and it isn’t even mithril. That’s some mastery for you! My mithril bars couldn’t match it. Of course, it’s nothing compared to what I made in Hell, and I can only imagine that the structure of the world order has something to do with why the bonuses I’ve been getting from rings are so much lower. There is some logic there, needless to say. What would I do with a scalable item that gives me +300 intellect before I’ve even reached Level 1? What I made with the pirates may have been unique, but it wasn’t scalable. Unique items give you a bigger bonus for your level, but their value drops precipitously if they’re low-level. It’s just a shame that my victims weren’t a bit stronger and that there weren’t more than the hundred and fifty or so that I had. I had to use a different seal to make sure they all fit. Anyway, I clear the loot and load up my cart. Anybody could be out wandering the desert.

Mornings are wonderful when you know that you’re going to be spending the day digging yourself an altar and collecting a bunch of monsters to use in your experiments. I have lots of things to do and the whole day ahead of me. I’m not in a hurry, either, and I can wait quite a while for another of those rings.

I prepare from morning till night, and I have to skip my experiments. I’m out of spikes. In the evenings, I smear a paralyzing poison on them and pile them up on the ritual seal. All I have are simple iron spikes with pieces of malachite forged into them. The paralysis rune draws energy from them when I use it.

With three hundred and thirty-two of the creatures gathered, it’s a shame they don’t all come in pairs. I’m not going to make it to the five hundred I was hoping for.

Sun-eater ring

The great wolf Fenrir was a terror of his time. Many monsters in the world suffered in the face of his strength, though Fenrir was punished for biting the hand of a god once. Since then, nobody has heard of him, and one of his toys is all that’s left.

Effect:

Stamina +5

Athleticism +7

Survivability +3

Strength +7

Intellect +3

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

How strong do you have to be to bite the hand of a god?

This time, I emphasize strength and stamina. The more my victims have of each, the more pronounced they are in the ring’s effects.

I end up having to venture farther into the desert, boosting my resistance to fire and mental damage as I go. My cart starts to fill up. If it’s going to be like this the whole time, I’m going to have to sew new bags.

One interesting thing about the desert is the variety of fauna. At the beginning of my trip, I just came across small monsters who occasionally formed groups. The deeper I’ve gone, the stronger they are. Now, in most cases, I get loners, though they’re incredibly powerful.

In a week, I find a good stone area and Level-400 monsters who throw in some magic.

Monster, Lamia, Level 402

She’s half-woman, half-snake, and her attempt to come at me with a mental attack is met with a powerful defense. An hour later, I’ve collected my first dozen of her sisters. The pile of womanly bodies with snake tails looks beautiful, of course, but dragging them all around is tough. Just one of them weighs as much as ten men. Even in Hell, they weren’t this heavy.

It’s evening. I’m up to my normal ritual on the stone area, and I have my pile of lamias to work with. Just another ceremony with eighty-five sacrifices.

Red master ring

The Red Master was a well-known ruler, though not many people know him by that name. There were no women in his harem; only slave girls. He collected them on his many travels, always charming his victims before carrying them out in his red stole.

Effect:

Speed +4

Agility +2

Survivability +2

Morale +7

Intellect +7

Wisdom +3

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

That’s interesting. It’s my first item to add speed. The additions to my intellect and wisdom make sense: lamias use charm to defeat their opponents.

I decide to use nothing but lamias to make the rest of my five rings since they give me the best combination for magic damage. Plus that speed.

Finally, I get what I’m looking for, so it’s time to make some things.

***

War is the destiny of men, at least, that’s what Leon thought. That day, he had been able to emerge victorious near Romada. Four clans had attacked the castle of the Golden Hand, and all they’d suffered was the loss of two of their own. Their assault had led them right into an ambush that also exploited the lowered guard Leon had been anticipating.

That evening, Leon’s military alliance, with the support of Margul, was going to fight a pitched battle with the combined forces of the young gods. The battle of Romada, like the other six, were all diversions.

The start of the battle was sudden and well planned. A group of mages teleported to the front lines and launched a suicidal attack, creating several incredibly powerful fire vortexes before succumbing to a hail of blows. Explosions rang out along the right flank. The second group of mages was using meteors to demolish the enemy formation. The enemy decided to take out as many as they could with one blow.

“Raise the shields and prepare the archers. We’re going to create a field that will increase their range.”

All this was yet another diversion. Leon sent his own group of mage killers around to the opponent’s rear. This was when the main battle supposed to begin, as soon as the signal was given. Leon and Margul were going to handle the gods.

Margul soared over the field of battle in the form of a giant dragon. He was much larger than ordinary dragons, at least five times as big. His aura engulfed everyone fighting below. Leon couldn’t muster the strength to do the same, and the issue was Margul’s followers. They were in every corner of the world, living in almost every territory on the planet.

The flow of belief energy—prana—depended on the number of followers each god had as well as how they were worshipped. The geography of where the true believers were located was important, too—the more there were in a region, the more powerfully the god could express his abilities there. Their supply of strength was in the astral and tied to the world via an altar in the main temple of their cult. The better the altar, the stronger the god could appear in the real world. There were all kinds of requirements for how to improve altars, all of which had to do with the believers and where they were located. Once those requirements were met, the god could select a path for development and move up into the large pantheon. Leon was at that point just a god in a small pantheon without that many followers.

Thunder crashed on the enemy’s side, followed by a flash that illuminated the entire field.

In the commotion, Leon was the only one who could see the scale of the disaster.

The gods had combined their strength for a single, exceedingly powerful attack on Margul. The lightning that struck him distorted space, opening the path for all kinds of beasts to arrive from the astral. The dragon lord himself, his back scorched, tumbled to the ground, though he immediately tried to pull himself up. The entire army was hit with debuffs, losing both their hearing and vision.

The enemy army, forty thousand strong, moved in, and the war began.

***

Margul got in touch with Bernard when they were getting ready to leave for another dungeon.

“Bernard, you were right—they’re weak. Even all together, they couldn’t kill me. This avatar still has a good half its strength left.”

“Don’t underestimate the wanderers. They may try to outwit you. Don’t be stupid.”

“I hear you, brother. Okay, time for me to go.”

***

The dragon spread his wings again and flew off toward the enemy’s main group. The little attacks mages threw at him did nothing, and Margul was just one of five dragons in the war. The humans couldn’t beat them even with their numerical superiority.

The dragons formed a wedge and swept a firestorm over the enemy army, evening up the sides. Margul himself created a blue sun right above the gods to ensure that they were weakened, but not killed. One of the dragons split off from the group with a message for Leon: they were leaving the alliances due to a serious wound suffered by their leader.

“I’m not going to die at the hand of these weaklings,” Margul said furiously, creating a final spell that blinded everyone on both sides.

***

I was naïve to think that I could take out everyone and everything in this desert.

There’s a hulk that I notice from a kilometer away, though it noticed me from two kilometers away and is dashing toward me. It’s a raid boss, and I happened across where it patrols. Damn mega dungeon! Where are my victims?

Monster, Death Spinner, Level 301, raid boss

Two minutes later, I have three victims lined up to combine our health. The raid boss’ retinue is first to get to me—eight tarantulas, each the size of an aerocar. The only difference is that they’re faster and could eat an aerocar in less than a minute.

Monster, Small Death Tarantula, Level 310

I wasn’t prepared for this, though I do have my shield ready. I’m not worried about poison damage; it’s physical attacks that are making me think twice. But they make their first mistake right at the beginning, charging in a group that’s easy to target with dragon breath. Four of them die outright. The rest keep coming, and I have to take them out with lightning and another dragon breath.

I have another minute left before the raid boss gets to me, and there’s no time left to collect the loot after I heal myself. I need to face him down, and I have a good attack. The important part is surviving the recoil.

“Dwarf hammer!”

Dwarf hammer is a scary spell. Your opponent is squashed by a giant gravitational impulse. It’s like a mouse getting hit with a sledgehammer.

The boss is a monster among monsters. He takes three hits delivered with all my power and keeps coming, the first two just driving his legs deeper into the sand, and the third finally breaking them and crumpling his chitin shell. Four legs still stick out of the sand, while the rest are buried deep inside. A million health and enormous resistance to physical damage is no joke.

It’s just when I walk over to him that I realize how big the spider really is. He could have eaten Cerberus and matched up against the six-armed guard in the eighth circle of Hell. That thing is the size of a small shuttle! It’s a good thing my last hammer strike took him out, otherwise I wouldn’t be here to tell the tale. My mana is almost gone, and my health is in the red.

Oo-ooh, wait a second! If things like that are what I get from this kind of monster, I’m more than happy to have them keep coming. Everything is epic and legendary, although I obviously can’t use any of it. But if I can identify and sell it, I’ll walk away with a pretty penny.

It’s like the spider gobbled up a bunch of ancient heroes and then came around wondering who to give the loot to.

I’m going to stay here for now. First, I need to make new clothes, and second, I need to eliminate the mental damage I’m taking.

Mental damage is brutal. I haven’t fought other players, and they can blind me, stun me, paralyze me, take control of me, possess my body, and influence my mind. That’s the worst thing I can imagine. What could be tougher to deal with than your own body betraying you? Fire and physical damage is fine, and I’m working on poison. This desert is the only place in the world with the kind of aura I’m looking for. I’ll go to the very center if that’s what it takes to handle the issue.

There are four kinds of armor in Project Chrysalis: cloth, leather, chainmail, and plate. Mages only use cloth armor. Thieves, assassins, and archers use both cloth and leather armor. Marauders and crossbowmen add chainmail to their selection, while warriors generally tend to use heavy plate armor. They do occasionally go with other types, though. They can wear a cloth outfit, put chainmail over it, and top that off with plate armor. All of the defense attributes add up, though only what you’re wearing on top gives you added effects. If I wear armor, I’ll get a penalty for using it without a skill. Wearing armor is a main class ability. Anyway, of the four types, I can only use cloth armor.

I can make items for my neck, head, wrists, chest, ears, legs, feet, and hands, as well as a cloak or cape. Pauldrons only come in plate armor. I’ve never heard of implants though, which is why I asked the master healer at the Sural arena about it. It turns out that mages and warriors can both change their body to meet the needs of their specialty.

Over the course of the day, I make a new altar and start to think about where I’m going to develop in the future. I don’t have any restrictions on using monsters to create items, so I can make whatever I want. I just have to make sure nobody notices me. There are almost fifty blanks for rings that I’m carrying with me to make different kinds of rings with. I already have a good selection of rings to use magic with, and I need to make more of them with a focus on strength and stamina. The rest will be unique and for personalized use in specific situations. For example, I can make one with strength and intellect maxed. Yeah, normal players can only dream about this kind of thing. Want to join me? Go ahead, get through Hell, and you can have all the goodies you want. Payment? Simple—your soul, and that’s it. Well, you might also have problems with your health and a psychologist.

I decide to figure out what I’m going to do about my clothes right away. There’s one set I can enchant, so I’m going to need to sew another set. I’ll have to find some shoes, too. I’m not a cobbler, so I can’t make them.

For now, I need to create a mage’s amulet to wear around my neck. I work on that all day, looking for monsters with a magic bent. I’m a long way from the lamias and going back doesn’t make sense, so I have to use the eyes I come across.

Monster, Wild Eye, Level 312

I see the green wonder levitating a meter and a half above the earth. It’s a sphere with an enormous eye, a mouth that’s acid-green, and octopus-like tentacles. It has no stamina, so it prefers to use lightning, and its enormous jaw with three rows of sharp teeth snaps at my head when I get too close. It has immunity to Mind Magic and tries to break through my shield, but it can’t get away from a paralysis spike. One good throw, and my collection has a new body. Doctor! Time to operate.

Next, two weeks of electrotherapy go by with health boosted to two million. The wild eye “heals” my weakness to electric damage. I’m able to train my defense against lightning cast by monsters at Level 400, though that still doesn’t solve the problem. I bring together a collection of “doctors” to see if I can find a drastic solution. Sadly, they all admit their incompetency, and I have to kill them.

On the way, I make myself clothes that give me a magic bump. A spider shows up on the last day of therapy…and it isn’t alone.

Disaster strikes when two raid bosses appear almost at once. Life hasn’t prepared me for this kind of thing! At least, I have a bunch of victims that boost my health all the way up to two million. Luck is on my side, and I use a meteor with double force.

Monster, Death Spinner, Level 301, raid boss

I do my best to bring down a boulder so big that the shock wave can be felt from half a kilometer away. The recoil takes off half a million health, but it’s a success. All that’s left is a crater twenty meters across with a bunch of bodies inside. How much damage must that have done if it took off half a million health even with my resistance? Ten million. Ah, I wish I had more mana!

For six long minutes, I have to wait for it to replenish, and the enemy approaches all the while. The second raid boss is an enormous colossus, a statue complete with escort.

Monster, Colossus Amanir, Level 312, raid boss

Yes, there’s a whole escort behind the twenty-meter giant, a statue of a man with the head of a dog and wearing nothing more than a loincloth. He’s holding a two-handed sword. I quickly heal myself before sending another meteor down on top of the group. I heal again, and a second finishes off the fallen colossus. My luck has been pushed pretty far, so I decide to grab my loot and step away. Like they say, meteors never strike the same spot twice. First, though, I need to finish up what I’m working on. My ritual was interrupted right before the end.

Strangler belt

A famed strangler once lived in the world. He earned his reputation by first paralyzing his victims, and then slowly strangling them with his belt. They executed him, but his belt was lost in the process.

Defense: +5

Effect:

Morale +2

Wisdom +2

Intellect +4

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

Apparently, I’m putting together the world’s largest collection of evidence left over from executed killers…or dragging them out of the local jail.

The reason I don’t have many cloth items is that really good material is exceedingly expensive, and the usual stuff doesn’t give you more than three effects. After Hell and life in the village, I don’t even mind. I like rough cloth more than silk.

Finally, I have six red master rings, the sun-eater ring, the monster-eater, and the strangler belt. I also picked up a fantastic amulet with a scarab made out of a black gem.

Black mark amulet

In life, a mage practiced necromancy, understanding all its depths and intricacies. His own team ended up killing him over his inhuman experiments, shooting him with the weapons found on a captured ship the mage was working on. The necromancer returned as a lich and decided to wreak vengeance on his betrayers, however. Everyone died in the battle, including him, and this amulet floated to shore on a piece of the ship.

Effect:

Morale +2

Wisdom +4

Intellect +2

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

I have the world’s best pants! I’ve been running around the desert in just my underwear with my cart behind me, since my clothes were all destroyed by the dragon breath recoils. Now, I can make myself some indestructible trousers.

Self-moving pants

A boy once lived in the far east of Congul, and he didn’t listen to his parents, causing problems all through his area. But there came a day of reckoning. A demon possessed him and made him run until he died, and nobody found his body. A random passer-by did find his bloody pants on the side of the road, however. They have changed hands many times over the past thousand years.

Defense: +15

Effect:

Speed +5

Stamina +5

Athelticism +5

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

It looks like I made the local divinity angry, and my own pants are going to eat me soon. It’s just a good thing that they aren’t still caked with the boy’s blood. They’re grayish-white and look like normal village pants.

Oh, and I have a great shirt. Mama isn’t going to have to mend it anymore.

Demon shirt

Several thousand years ago, a demon walked the world of men in human form and decided to stay at a roadside inn. The service was terrible, so he made up his mind to kill everyone as soon as he finished his dinner. A servant girl, however, recognized that he was a demon when the milk soured and the torch over his table flashed blue. Without telling anyone, she decided to drive him out. She switched his bottle for one full of holy water, and oh, how the demon howled when he drank the contents in a single mouthful. He melted away, leaving nothing but a spare shirt behind.

Defense: +20

Effect:

Agility +2

Intellect +5

Wisdom +5

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

The farther I go, the more fun it is. A bucket hat is the perfect finishing touch for my village boy costume.

Red hat

The northern tribes in Gunny like to christen their children in battle. The son of a chief ran out into his christening completely naked, just with a white hat on his head that turned naked from the sprays of blood. He whirled and cut his way across the field of battle so vigorously that his enemies couldn’t forget him. Red Hat was his new moniker. His fellow tribesmen, looking to build the fame of their people, said that it wasn’t red. “He just keeps the flesh on the outside.”

Defense: +10

Effect:

Stamina +5

Intellect +5

Wisdom +5

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

Back on the island, when I was learning how to reinforce wood, I remembered father’s lessons about reinforcing and deforming bone. Then, on the ship, I thought for a while about what I could give him when I get back. I decided to make two sets of identical bracelets out of wyvern bone.

Dragon-killer bracelet

In all the history of mankind, there have been many orders of dragon killers, though only one man has ever been able to kill a dragon one on one. He never told anyone about the terrible things he had to do, not to mention all the modifications he had to make to his body, in order to gain enough power to pull off the feat. He experimented on his victims, both human and monster. As a result, he went crazy from the uncontrollable strength. Some of his things can be found in the world’s most dangerous places.

Effect:

Stamina +5

Intellect +1

Wisdom +5

Morale +2

Survivability +2

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

I’m a wonder child who has wandered far outside the realm of the normal. Here I am, wearing my village shirt and pants, and I have rings set with gems all over my fingers. There’s an amulet on a green chain, and the whole thing is topped off by my red bucket hat. The picture of a boy hauling a cart across the desert dressed like this, enormous monsters all around it, definitely says something about my mental abilities. I’m a diamond in the rough!

“Attribute window.”

Name: Sagie

Level: 0

Experience: 0/100 (100 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 97

Agility: 104

Stamina: 120

Intellect: 206

Wisdom: 178

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 119

Athleticism: 107

Morale: 194

Survivability: 109

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 48.5 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 235 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 17030 (1780+15250 from tattoos) (wisdom*10)

Health: 1200 (stamina*10)

Strength: 1200 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 1090/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 1940/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 1070/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 47 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 51

Resistance

Physical damage: 1.72% (damage ignored: up to 421/second)

Poison: 8.66% (damage ignored: up to 25811/second)

Fire: 20.62% (damage ignored: up to 117204/second)

Electricity: 18.35% (damage ignored: up to 92088/second)

Mental damage: 8.12% (damage ignored: up to 24537/second)

Skills

Cooking: 250

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 250

Swimming: 250

Breath-holding: 250

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 250

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 172

Necromancy: 250

Blood magic: 250

Chimerology: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Artifact creation: 250

Poison-making: 25

Ointment-making: 25

Metal reinforcing: 25

Wood reinforcing: 25

Body enhancement: 25

Professions

Herbalist: 250

Fisherman: 250

Tailor: 250

Blacksmith: 250

Carpenter: 250

Miner: 25

Skills

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

One of our own

Shroud of Darkness

Gifts

Meeting deferred

My blood malachite tattoos give me more than 15000 mana, and I would be lost without that extra. Just one meteor costs 10000. I can only cast two in a row or two at the same time, though the effect is incredible. To use meteors, you need Level 300 and 300 each for Earth, Air, and Fire Magic. I can get around that, however, using a “scroll,” my skills, and my body as mana storage. A normal mage would be able to do the same, only they would have the right skills and material, and they wouldn’t need the indestructible tattoo on their body. There’s no point making meteor scrolls when your magic skills are only up to 100—you’d go broke on mana storage.

I decide not to make gloves or boots yet. I want to wait and see what kinds of items I’ll get from stronger monsters first. All the ring blanks are for unique work, and I’ll use them as soon as I need to bump up a specific attribute. On the way back, I’m definitely going to need extra strength as I’m already being forced to empower my body in order to pull the cart. Boosting my defense against physical damage demands a high level of stamina, and I’m going to need a ton of mana when I finish setting up my defense. My second set of clothes will also be focused on magic use. It’ll be unique, not scalable.

It’s hard to find the monsters I need to create unique items with the right attributes and ratios.

On earth, there were tribes of Bedouins who lived in and regularly crossed the desert. Earth is now a reserve where they don’t even let tourists go, and I’m a sort of neo-Bedouin crossing this world’s most dangerous desert on my own two feet.

Damage taken: 28400 (ignored: 24547)

108/2370

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored up to 24811/second

The center of the desert gives off an aura that does mental and fire damage. Using dragon breath, I boost my resistance to fire so high that I can use all eleven streams without threatening my health. The damage from the aura is half-thermal, so I’m fine so far.

I find out something interesting: the whitish veil I noticed back in Hell is the limit of my resistance. As soon as I cross it, the damage from the aura starts taking off health. The higher my resistance, the farther off the veil is. Thinking through things logically, the veil is where my perception of the concentrated energy field begins. Different kinds of energy impact the body differently. For example, the first time I used dragon breath at maximum power, I got a blinding debuff, with the fire being bright white in the middle and changing shades as it expanded outward. It doesn’t blind me anymore, however, and I’m fine even standing in the middle of melting sand.

There are about five hundred kilometers to go until I get to the center of the desert, and the monsters here are around Level 550. I can’t stun them, so I have to kill them with a single powerful attack or paralyze them with poison. My spikes laced with blood malachite need recharging every once in a while. It takes a lot of strength to paralyze these kinds of monsters.

I can already see the river of souls in the sky, though it doesn’t much look like a river. It’s more a cloud dousing the sand on the horizon with rain. That’s where the center of the desert is, so I’m going to get a better look.

Every evening ends with me digging the cart into the stand, sitting down on top of it, and logging out of the game. Mornings are for exercise: digging myself out and then digging the cart out.

The terrain changes quickly along with the monsters. It looks like they’re all here, all the different kinds. The closer I get to the center of the desert, the stronger the aura is, and today I’m starting to see semi-astral creatures floating above the ground. They don’t attack right away, so I’m able to kill them. And while they have wings, they don’t have bodies, and their faces are covered with hoods. The lower part of their bodies looks like a breeze or smoke.

I use them to make myself a pair of gloves.

Soul-catcher gloves

There was once a mage who hunted monsters and had an interesting hobby. He skinned everything he killed and made gloves, selling them at the market when he returned from his excursions. The gloves he himself wore gradually took on their master’s qualities over the period of his long life.

Defense: +5

Effect:

Morale +5

Intellect +2

Wisdom +4

Requirement: Scalable item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

It’s the first item I have that isn’t linked to a killer. Although, there’s no telling what kind of monsters the mage hunted. What if he preferred vampires and werewolves? My enemies are getting too strong for me, so I need to make gloves and a cloak.

It takes me two days. In a way, I invest a part of my soul into every item I create. I don’t make personal items anymore for two reasons: first, it’s scary to think about cutting off a finger for something that simple. Second, I don’t even know how I would. Here I am planning on being able to survive a direct hit from a meteorite, and I would need to find a way to… No way. Because of that, everything I make is just unique or scalable. And what would happen if my pants, for example, embedded themselves in my body? How would I take them off? And what about my cloak? Would it embed itself in me and form a cocoon?

I really am horrible! I’m prepared to kill monsters by the dozen for just one ring. Although, everyone else in the game would kill a hundred times more just for one of them, only not created with blood magic.

I could have created a pack animal with necromancy, but that would have attracted Eliza’s attention.

Death cloak

Everyone knows that death never shows its true appearance. Darkness itself hides beneath its cape, looking deep into your soul, and sometimes cloaks like this one are found after great battles are fought.

Effect: Your face is not visible under this cloak

Requirement: Unique item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

It’s the first item that gives me an effect that has nothing to do with my attributes. The only difference between the ritual I completed to create the cloak and other rituals I’ve done is the victims. I used completely spiritual creatures called live armor. Apparently, that means that the effect victims like this give doesn’t boost your attributes.

Unlucky death gloves

Death sometimes takes people unawares. Years go by before the undead regains consciousness. They realize that they have died and been reborn when they look at their hands and see nothing but bone.

Effect: Your hands look like those of a skeleton

Requirement: Unique item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

Suddenly, I realize what kind of weapon I’m going to make myself. Even without the cloak, I can use my shroud of darkness to give myself a terrifying appearance. Even monsters are afraid of me when I look like a blob of darkness in human form. All you can see are my eyes. It’s a nice look, but I’m not planning on the grim reaper. I don’t want to disappoint my parents. Mama would frown; father would say that I made a poor choice.

But what should I do about shoes? I only have one pair, and if I give them an effect that isn’t for my attributes, they’ll be what I have to use. On the other hand, when will I have this many spiritual creatures to play with ever again?

Lord sandals

...

Effect: Let you walk on water

Requirement: Unique item

Durability: Indestructible, with damage to it taken out of the owner’s health

I take one look at them and kick myself for wasting my most valuable sandals—I already have a seal that lets me walk on water. And what about the description? I half expect some god to walk up, demand that I give him back his sandals, and send me to Hell. “Although, no, you’ll just run away again.” I’ll have to see what happens. Maybe, I’ll be out of mana, and I’ll have to traverse the valley of the shadow of death. Phew, I need to stop reading so much.

There’s nothing for it but to keep walking toward the center of the desert wearing the sandals.

The farther you go across the desert, the more you start to wonder what’s in the middle. Could this really be a pathway to Hell? Or does that river of souls lead to the Gray Lands? There isn’t much longer to go. I can already see the mountains, and the souls flow on the other side of them.

From fifty kilometers away, I see that the road is blocked by the mountain ridge. Everything is on fire, literally. Flames shoot out of the earth, the air is alight, and the rocks crack from the heat. I’m surprised I can breathe. It’s a cool feeling.

The first cliffs appear, jutting out of the earth like needles of rock. I dig a hole for my cart; The burning earth is starting to destroy it. Everything I don’t need, I leave inside, taking the rest with me.

It takes some time to find a path through the mountains. Two days go by, and finally, I’m in a cleft in the mountains with the path to the center of the desert opening up in front of me.

Damage taken: 88200 (ignored: 86611)

211/2370

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored: up to 87090/second

At this point, the mountains look bathed in a shroud colored in all the shades of fire. Even the fabric of reality is quaking from the intense mental aura. The shroud itself is visible in the aura, which does 50000 damage and more. The higher your resistance, the more damage you need to see the shroud. Mages can use magic vision to see what color fields of strength are.

For the first time since I was in Hell, I see creatures higher than Level 600. They’re something like birds, only much more majestic with fire erupting from their plumage.

Monster, Roc, Level 602

Complete immunity to Mind Magic! A strong hide! I have to smack it with a dwarf hammer to bring it to earth, and then peg it with spikes smeared with a paralyzing poison.

I can’t look for victims and work on my resistance at the same time, so I have to move to 50-hour days.

The farther I go, the stronger the aura is. Now, it’s the aura of regret. That’s the feeling it gives me.

Before I saw the difference in the items I can make with blood magic rituals, I thought I could use that to work on myself. Now, even beating creatures six hundred levels higher than me is a big achievement.

What’s on the other side of the mountains? Everything. One interesting point of reference is the enormous hole in the middle. At first glance, it’s about fifty kilometers in diameter. It’s like somebody used a thermonuclear bomb to see how deep they could go in search of minerals. That thing is huge. It looks to be two or three kilometers deep, and the center is a ways away. I can’t tell what’s at the bottom. The river of souls splashes right into the middle, and there’s a thick shroud down below. That’s what’s keeping me from seeing anything.

It takes me almost two weeks to cross those kilometers.

Two guys with terrifying faces wearing nothing but ritual slings notice me. They’re five-meter giants rippling with muscles, and they move toward me.

Monster, Great Sinner, Level 677

A double meteor takes off a big chunk of health, but it doesn’t kill them. I have to finish them off with my dwarf hammer. If it weren’t for the ritual that got my health up to four million, I’d be a goner.

Damage taken: 2315200 (ignored: 2308077)

3824831/4101200

Resistance to fire: +0.01%

Thermal damage ignored: up to 1158570/second

Resistance to mental damage: +0.01%

Mental damage ignored: up to 1152901/second

All I can heal is 51000 health. I can’t go any farther. Whatever’s in the center is so scarily powerful that I don’t even want to think about it. My perception is superb and I can see from a kilometer away, so I notice where the fire elemental is disembodied, having come too close to whatever is over there. The only things here are ghosts and other disembodies creatures. There aren’t many semi-material monsters like the sinners, and I’m only too happy to see that regular ghosts don’t attack me. The rest only attack me after a short delay.

Having gone this far, I decide to get a little closer to whatever’s in the center. It turns out to be an enormous stone body whose chest is pierced by a perfectly round, polished, red stake. The river of souls flows into the wound. I’m stunned by the size. I can see it all from three kilometers away. The giant’s face is recognizable, too. It’s Bernard.

***

Bernard met everyone coming in from the front with all the clan leaders. The arrivals had all done some leveling-up and skill-boosting.

“Bernard, you should have seen that dragon! It was five times as big as the others, and so strong! I’m not even sure what kind of army you’d have to bring to have a shot at taking it out. He’d survive a meteor strike from all the mages in the clan. The gods all went after him, and all they could do was weaken him and force him to retreat. In return, he incinerated both armies—theirs and ours.”

“Yes, I saw, and everyone’s talking about how you lost. Leon and his followers have taken three more castles in the time it’s taken you to get back here. The war has shattered everyone’s power, so we called a truce that includes all the young gods except Leon. He has a huge advantage now. Soon, there will be just little skirmishes going on, which means it’s time for us to get back to work on raids and quests.”

“What about PVP? The war?”

“Soon, believe me, very soon. If you really want to fight, just head over to the arena.”

“Okay, okay.” The guy held up his hands, knowing how strict the boss was. “It’s up to you.”

“You don’t get it,” Bernard replied, shaking his head. He was trying to tell the stupid guy the ins and outs of war. “Do you think a war like that doesn’t have consequences for the world itself? Soon, we’re going to have a struggle for control within the Golden Hand, with the other young gods fighting among themselves for whatever prana is left over. You’re forgetting how realistic this world is. When two people are fighting, the third can use that moment to attack. Do you get it now?”

“Yes.”

“What do you understand?”

“I understand that you know better than the rest of us.”

Bernard shook his head again.

“Did nobody ever teach you how to think for yourself? You need to be able to evaluate the situation on both a strategic and a tactical level. You want to fight?” The guy nodded. “Well, you have to think about the consequences. If you wear yourself out now or get tired of it, you’ll be no good later. And tell me this—what kind of people are we in this clan?”

“Mercenaries.”

“Exactly. So, get your butt into the dungeon and work with the team. I saw what they did to you, and I was the one who taught you! You couldn’t have made any more mistakes if you wanted to.”

Bernard was actually happy with how the operation had gone. The young gods hadn’t been able to emerge victorious over Margul, though his troops had done the most damage to their opponents. They had diversions, flanking maneuvres, and malefic and necromancer groups, and everyone pushed themselves as hard as they could. The young warriors needed to keep improving, however. Feeling your sword, teamwork, and being able to keep an eye on the big picture are all skills real warriors need. That’s the kind of mercenary army Bernard was building.

Margul headed back to Tanatos. There wasn’t anything he needed to do in the big world for the near future. It was tough on him. He hated feeling like a burden to his brothers and sisters. One of the strongest beings in the world, he was going to be among the last to leave. Just the thought that he might remain alone scared the dragon god to the depths of his being. Bernard knew him better than anyone and understood his friend’s pain.

“How much time will the people need to develop to the level of the dragons?” Margul got in touch with Bernard as soon as he returned to his temple.

“At least four years, I think. There are just a few who can break Level 400, and I’m an exception to the rule. There are less than ten in the world.”

“But they’re there! Waiting for three years…I can do that. I’m a dragon, we’re used to waiting.”

“The smaller divinities of the old generation are on the move, too. They’re moving around the world in search of worthy opponents, and they’ll be the first to leave for rebirth.”

“That’s their choice. I already made mine.”

“Margul, are you worried? I have a bad feeling, and I’m not sure why.”

“No, it’s fine. Tanatos is a place of power, everything’s different here. You know that. We don’t feel anything that’s weaker than us.”

“Yes, I just wanted to make sure.”

But the bad feeling only grew. Over the next month, Bernard started sleeping poorly. He had nightmares about his own death, the river of souls, the Gray Lands, and Tanatos.

The intuition only the gods had told him about a danger so great that they even stopped the war. All the gods felt it.

***

The Golden Hand was celebrating their victory in all their cities and fortresses.

They’d captured new territory and strengthened belief in Leon. Lots of new players were joining the victorious side, and several cities had pledged allegiance to the god on their own. Only one person in the whole clan was practically crying because the war was ending.

Merlen Ruzh, in his stylish shirt and vest as always, was reading the latest expense reports.

“Leon, what a victory! The dragons left, and we were able to capture new territory. I couldn’t believe my ears when I heard that they agreed to our terms. We’re going to top up the coffers in no time with income streams like these, and we’ll be able to get back to developing culture and tech in the regions. Do you realize what this means?”

“They didn’t know that the dragons left the alliance. Yes, I get it…the big pantheon. The strongest clan in the world.” The god was sitting on the windowsill watching the clan celebrate. Sunlight reflected off his mithril armor and played on the walls in the room, while the golden hand shimmered in different colors. He thought to himself.

“Worried about something?”

“Yes… Margul left, though they didn’t really hurt him that badly. I’m not sure what the real reason was. I don’t exactly get what’s going on, and I have a bad feeling about it. We’re missing something, some consequence of the war.”

“What do you mean?” Merlen’s happy mood turned serious.

“Do you remember what the divine strength gave me?” Merlen nodded, not taking his eyes off the god. “I can process information much better, and it isn’t just my consciousness branching out. It’s a deeper understanding of interrelationships. My intuition is much sharper, and that has a strong effect on real life. I’ve boosted company earnings by 230% over the past year. I’ve introduced a number of reforms and purges. It’s now stable in market terms, practically untouchable by our competitors. Even the profit numbers are double what they were. I have a good guess what the real identities of the other new gods are because of some secondary things I’m noticing, but my intuition is screaming at me. It’s saying that I have missed something that will affect our future.”

“Could you just be getting yourself worked up? You haven’t slept in several days, and my daughter says you don’t eat that much.”

For the past year, Rachel had been sharing Leon’s bed. Merlen didn’t mind—her new beau helped her get the second level of citizenship and brought her over. Management and the other most important people in the clan all lived separately, taking up a whole block in a Venusian colony. Everything was fine, though Leon had changed significantly since becoming a god.

“Don’t worry, Merlen. Nothing’s going to happen to your daughter. I’m changing, and I can see that I understand so much more than I once did. I’ll make sure everything is fine. But while we have time, get to work advancing the clan’s crafting and military wings. Tell the alliance to do the same thing.” The god started melting away on his way to the astral. “Something’s coming. I feel it.”

Leon had become more insightful. Even in normal conversation, he saw through people and made sure that both sides walked away satisfied. Whatever was most important to people in the discussion always came up. He would mention how you had lost weight, how you looked, the money you made, your work, your kids. You heard what you most wanted to hear.

Not only could he understand that, however; he could instantly find the connections between seemingly unconnected things. He had started looking for the missing pieces to the puzzle.

***

I’m scared. It’s been almost two years since the last time I saw my parents, and the first familiar face I see is Bernard’s. And where? In the middle of the desert, a place where there are no living creatures. Over the last ten days, all I’ve come across have been ghosts pouring from the sky through the red spear and incredibly powerful monsters. There’s no life here—just Bernard’s enormous stone body pierced with the weapon in his chest. Mama…father…how are you? I miss you so much… There’s so much I have to tell you… I just want to see you.

I’ve done most of what I wanted to do, so I return to the cliffs and dig up my cart. I wear the bandage full of poison the whole way back. I do, however, have to come up with something stronger. I have a lot more health than I used to.

I have a whole sack of valuable rings and a complete change of clothes for a mage. It’s just a shame that I couldn’t find anything to make a scythe with. Of course, I wouldn’t use it, but it would go great with my costume. I already have the black robe of death, the cold skeleton hands, and my shroud of darkness. Somebody’s going to need to find new underwear.

Somehow, I forgot about the lord sandals. They’re the most unique thing I have, and they taught me how cleverly everything’s set up. Material victims give you a bonus for your attributes; non-material victims give you effects. I wouldn’t have been able to make normal mage boots if I’d wanted to.

It takes me five days to get back to Sural. I run the whole way, shooting everything that moves. I need loot, not victims.

On the fifth day, my single-seater cart rolls into the city loaded with sacks. It’s hard to drag even with an empowered body.

I walk through the western gate and almost immediately go to the guild building. Leaving my cart in the back courtyard, I head off to find Hela. Nobody will touch my things here.

It’s an overcast day, and the girl is sitting at the administrator’s desk in her green suit as usual.

“Hi, Miss Hela, I’m back.”

The girl jumps in surprise and glances out across the desk. I barely come up to the edge, having crouched down to scare her. My hood is swept back, my gloves are off, and all my items have their attributes hidden. I wouldn’t want to scare the poor girl that badly.

“Oh, Sagie,” she replies with a stomp. “What are you sneaking up on me like that for? We’ve only had five people all day, I was engrossed in my book, and now you!”

“See? Not bored any more, are you?” I smile, and the girl relaxes, grinning in return.

“What took you so long? Traveling the world? But then you missed us, so you came back?”

“I got to the center of Hashan Desert.” Hela’s eyes open wide. “I didn’t find any souvenirs good enough for you though. On the other hand, I have a present for you, but only if you help me with a few things.”

“What do you mean, the center? The monsters there are Level 200 and higher.”

“They get up to Level 1000 in the center, and they’re brutal! There’s a river of souls, too, but no gateway to Hell. There aren’t even any demons. Just a big stone body pierced with a red spear.”

“Wait, so you really got all the way there? But the aura should have killed you before you even stepped onto the desert!” She grabbed her head. “Wait, who cares about the aura? There are monsters, there’s no food, and you’re saying that you got to the center of the desert and saw what most people can only dream of. And you’re saying it like it’s no big deal!”

“What do you know about the dead giant with the spear in him?”

The girl fell silent and stared out into nothingness. A couple of seconds went by before she replied.

“That was a forgotten era. Lots of books have been written about it, but they were all condemned later as heresy and taken out of print. We had a seminar at the academy about how it was an era of wanderers and wars between the gods. The wanderers killed one of them. The god was from the capital of the Hanay Empire, most of which is desert now. The caliphate is just a fraction of its former power.”

“You mean to tell me that there’s a dead god lying in the middle of the desert, and that the whole thing’s there because of him?”

“That’s what they told us.”

How am I supposed to take that? Bernard is a god? That’s doubtful, and why would a god need to participate in a ritual? How did he ever show back up if he was killed?

“Could it be that the dead god was reborn as a simple mortal mage?”

“I don’t know what it’s like for you, but they promise us the afterlife for a good life and Hell if you’re a sinner.”

I need Bernard to figure out what’s going on. Better not touch anything until I have the whole picture.

Hela, seeing me lost in my thoughts, asked me another question.

“So, you really got to the middle of Hashan?”

“Yep.”

“How?”

“I’m an unusual kid with unusual abilities. But I have something I need you for, speaking of the monsters out there.” Hela smiles, apparently remembering my contract. “I caught a lot of those beasts. Do I have to go to the caliph’s palace myself to get the money?”

“What? That many?”

“A little more than four thousand of the normal ones and three raid bosses.”

“How did you bring all them here?”

“My cart is out back.”

Hela starts laughing louder and louder, finally grabbing her stomach with one hand and the desk with the other. Finally, she replies.

“So, some kid got to the middle of Hashan Desert alone? And he killed thousands of monsters, hauling them back in a cart?”

“That’s what my second question is about, and I have an offer, too. If you agree, I’ll give you a present. I have a lot of loot that needs to be identified…a lot.” Hela stops laughing and glances at the door leading to the back courtyard. “You’d probably like to boost your identification skill, right? When we’re done, you can keep one item…absolutely anything!”

“Deal! We’ll count your monsters at the same time.”

“Okay, but let’s do it tomorrow. For now, I need to make sure my cart is safe until the morning. We’ll get started then.”

I had to run from the desert to Sural itself. After getting some rest, eating, and getting ready for a double day, I log into the game.

We sit there for nearly 24 hours, going through and identifying everything I have. Hela jumps for joy when her identification skill hits 750. I’ve never seen a happier girl.

I’m already starting to get a good picture of the local people and the players. I like people like Hela much more than others. She’s open and kind…and beautiful.

Once we have finished identifying everything, the girl picks some stylish epic boots and I head off.

It wasn’t “death goes to the auction.” I’m just a simple village boy hauling a cart loaded with sacks. People laugh at me and offer to give me a horse, though I decline. A horse would die if I asked it to pull this much weight! If those idiots knew that what I have in these bags is worth a million gold, they’d shut up.

I spend the rest of the day putting up lots, setting minimum prices, and figuring out the auction. Then, I go back to sleep. I don’t have much time left.

The next morning, I drop by the local caliph’s palace. My reputation in the caliphate is up to esteem, so I can buy property or open a shop as soon as I get full access in the game. Just a couple of months left! In a word, the government would like me to stay in the city for a while, maybe even forever. My fantastic reward puts me in a good mood, too. I was way off on the number of monsters I’d killed. There were almost fifty-five hundred, and I got a thousand gold each for the heads of the raid bosses. I walk away fifty-eight thousand gold heavier, though that’s just a drop in the bucket compared to what I need. My main income will be from the loot.

I have about thirty hours until trade closes. There are just twenty-five days left until my probation with the Hunters starts, and I need to get home, too. I wouldn’t use a portal even if I could—they only work within continents and log player movement. Guild hunters out looking for criminals and other serious organizations are all that use them. I have at least one god on my list of enemies, and I’m not interested in leaving tracks someone could use to find me.

I need Hela. She probably knows about the city.

“Hi, Miss Hela.”

“Hey, Sagie, what’s new? Need something else identified?”

“Sorry, I don’t have any new boots yet.” I pull my red bucket hat off my head and look at the floor guiltily. The girl laughs. “I’m looking for information about a city, and nobody in Sural will tell me anything about it. With my reputation, too!”

“What’s the city?”

“Zirda.”

Hela looks at me as if I just made a mess.

“If I didn’t know you so well, I’d think you were a bandit. Zirda is in Ovidius, a long way from human and dwarf lands.”

Ovidius is the continent that’s south-west on my map. It’s also home to Imir and my village, which means that I’m going to have to cross all of Congul and most of the next continent…on foot.

“Why a bandit?”

Hela started frowning the second she heard the name Zirda.

“That’s where convicts and prisoners run off to. Your killers, too, trying to avoid the long reach of the law. It’s No Man’s Land. A huge area of lawlessness. Now, do you understand what other people thought when you asked them about Zirda and how to get there?”

“Got it, thanks for explaining. Could you show me where it is?” I pull out my map.

“It’s around here, though I don’t know where exactly. But I’m getting tired of your surprises! Where did you get a map like this?”

I put it away and look at her triumphantly.

“I traded a black pearl the size of my fist for it. Okay, time to run—maybe, we’ll see each other again.” Hela just stands there, her mouth agape.

Homeward bound.

I slip on six red master rings and set off at a speed of forty kilometers an hour. I’m not getting tired, but that isn’t fast enough. Even though a pet is the only thing that would solve my problem, there isn’t much sense getting one.

My path lies through woods, fields, mountains, and even the sea. But nobody stops me. I’m on my way home. I see castles and cities, people and other creatures. When I run through an elf forest regardless of the fact that it’s forbidden it’s my perception that saves me from the traps and ambushes they set. I’ve been running away my whole life, so I’m able to get away from them and escape their dominion. It’s a small piece of the Golden Forest marked on my map as a gray spot.

I run through areas populated with orcs and trolls. Suddenly, enormous steppes pop up, and trees are fewer and farther between. Next is a rocky wasteland with one mountain range following the other.

In a small town in the middle of the continent, I stop by the auction and pick up my money. The amount totals 22.5 million gold. A quarter of it comes from two full sets of plate armor I got from the raid bosses, while the third dropped a pair of swords that went for two million.

The first thing I do is convert it all into real-world credits and send it to Malcolm to found the orphanage with. For the last three months, Vaalsie has been calling me to ask why I haven’t taken the tests for my basic education, and I’ve been completely refusing to work with him. He’s just Eliza’s lackey. I’m getting transferred in two weeks, which will be the end of my problems. I’ll slip right out from under his nose with a month and a half left before my fourteenth birthday.

The very southern tip of Congul is home to the port city Nikat. It’s protected from the land side by a tall castle wall, and from the sea side by a fort armed with powerful weapons.

I get to it at night and run smack into the closed gate. It’s quarantined, so they aren’t even letting people in during the day, though I don’t want to run all the way around. Diseases don’t scare me.

City walls are nothing compared to the holes in Hell, so I quickly get in through the fortifications and take off running toward the port. The guards notice me when I leap down from the wall, and they set off after me. A few of them are just as fast as I am, though I leap off a pier and dash across the water just before they catch me.

It’s a long time after midnight. As soon as I get to the nearest island, I find a spot in a tree and fall asleep. It’s been fifty hours since I last rested. I need a break!

Two-thirds of my journey is in the past, and I’m on an island between Congul and Ovidius. Whales, sea monsters, warships, and fishing boats far out at sea surround me, and I enjoy taking a moment to look around. By the evening of the second day, I arrive in Ovidius and decide to stop for more rest. I climb up into a tree and nearly jump out of my skin when I see a monkey staring at me in shock. It even shares its food with me before dashing off to the next tree over. The locals’ Level 50 means nothing to me, and they aren’t aggressive at all. I log out of the game.

When I log back in, I find myself on a small island in the open water. A tornado whirls nearby, kicking up the water, and large waves crash against the shore. I must have been swept out to sea during the storm. That’s an interesting effect to keep in mind.

I have to run through the poor weather, though it just cheers me up. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time, in fact. I get to the first cities by the evening, and the people there take no notice of me. Good, nobody’s looking for me after breaking into Nikat and running from the guards. Although, nobody knows who I am there.

On the outskirts of Imir, I find traces of recent battles. The forest has been burned to the ground in places, though I’m still overjoyed to be running through familiar terrain. War, destruction, villages, and the smell of the woods and water all make me feel like I’m home.

***

There were three people in the office, and the mood was all business. The girl was trying to convince her two bosses of how important it was to increase her financing.

“Alfred, you’ve seen the results! The kids have no problem adapting to the groups at their orphanages, fights and other deviant behavior have dropped precipitously, and all I want to do is boost the number of game centers.”

“I get it. You want to expand your program, but what’s the point of that? We think it’s the game itself having that effect, and not your project with the animals.”

Eliza frowned.

“My proposal includes reports on the analysis we did of two focus groups. There’s a clear difference in behavior for problem kids—one group lives ordinary lives, while I still have to keep an eye on the other.

The men glanced at each other and nodded.

“Good enough—we’re in.”

“What was the farce for then?”

“We needed to make sure you were following logic, and not your emotions and motherly instincts.”

That kind of thing said to a student was insulting, but there was a degree of truth to it.

“Understood. No offense.”

“We’ll increase the project’s budget, and we’ll open five new zoos in Project Chrysalis. Send us your list of people for the project and the estimated expenses as soon as they’re ready.”

The pair got up and left the office, while Eliza collapsed wearily into her chair. The happy smile on her face made her awfully beautiful. She’d chosen a career in science and turned her back on the idea of having her own children, so she didn’t have any. The project helped her meet her need to care for someone. Eliza understood that perfectly well, though she was able to control her emotions and desires. Talking with men was always about numbers and facts, and that’s what she’d given them.

“Miss Donovan, Anji Ganet is online and would like to meet.” Moro had politely waited until the end of the conversation before giving Eliza the news.

“What a day! Tomorrow, aliens are going to get in touch and tell me I’m supposed to save the world.”

“Miss Donovan, your sarcasm is unseemly. Patients almost never ask for contact themselves.”

“I know…it’s just been a tough day. Connect Ganet to my room.”

“Okay.”

Eliza laid back in her capsule and entered the virtual space, always happy to spend some time in her childhood room.

Anji was standing in the center. The boy looked happy, almost like a normal child. He pointed at his ear.

“No, nobody’s listening.”

“Hi, Miss Donovan.”

“Finally, you’re talking. And you’re practically bursting with happiness.”

“You’re right. I’m in a good mood, and I have decided to talk with you. You wanted to know why I don’t talk with the other kids, right?”

“Yes.”

“But you already know.”

“Sure. You don’t want to talk with people who aren’t as smart as you. I saw the fight in the center and know why it happened. Do you think that will make you happy? You don’t have anyone.”

“You seriously overestimate my need to talk with people, Miss Donovan. I think most people are idiots who just want to humiliate anyone who’s better than them. They think they can break my will if they’re stronger or come at me in a group…but they’re wrong.”

“Not everyone is like that, Anji. There have been some people who’ve treated you well.”

“Yes, and you tried to use that against me. I appreciate the lesson and won’t let that be a weakness again.”

Eliza tensed up, wondering where the conversation was going.

“You’re a smart boy, and you know that not talking is slowing down your psychological development. Your emotional intellect coefficient is far behind the curve, but you’re still young. We can fix that.”

“Talking… I’ve only ever had two people I considered friends. I feel too guilty to talk with one now, and the other stripped me of a normal childhood and tried to kill me. With friends like that, what do I need talking for?”

“You’re exaggerating. Not all people are that bad.”

“I know, Miss Donovan. There are others, too. But I don’t want…I’m not going to make that mistake. I’d rather stay a child than become an adult like her.”

Eliza could have said that she saw Rachel, but she didn’t. The boy needed to forget about that incident and move on.

“You decide for yourself who you’re going to be. You don’t have to be like her; you’re you. Don’t close the world out just because of people like that.”

“Those are just words, Miss Donovan. Goodbye.”

“Wait! There’s a zoo in Denev, a city in Radaam. Stop by when you think you need to.”

“Goodbye.”

Anji left the personal virtual space. Moro, who had said nothing the whole time, piped up.

“Congratulations, Miss Donovan. The boy talked! Would you like me to add that to his file?”

“No point. We didn’t solve the problem; we just found a temporary improvement. Something’s off about him, too.”

“What do you mean?”

“Anji has already showed us that he always has a reason for everything he does. I don’t think he just missed me, so he probably agreed to talk because of his youth and inexperience. People like that act when they feel like they’re in control.”

Moro and Eliza left the virtual space without saying anything else. There was a lot of work ahead thanks to the new zoos, and the girl had already put everything having to do with Anji on the back burner. All she had were ideas, though something was definitely going on.

***

My mood is great. Malcom told me that he bought the building and will have the equipment delivered in a week, and then it’ll be a couple of days finding the staff and getting them set up. In ten days, I’ll submit a transfer request, and I’ll be sitting in a shuttle on my way to Arpa in two weeks. The list of orphans has already been confirmed.

I get to Imir in the depths of night. There are players running around everywhere, mostly new ones killing poor rabbits while their stronger friends cover them. I have to laugh. It’s a starter location, so the gates are always open, which is why life goes on around the clock.

Throwing on my cloak of death to make sure nobody can see my face, I dash through the city and glance over at the square. Teurus’ main temple, of which I have the fondest memories, is still there. I don’t have any business there, however, so I follow my heart and head home.

The journey that used to take an hour takes just ten minutes, and I stop in front of…my house?

But it isn’t there. In front of me is just a pile of ash. The walls are scorched, the windows have no glass in them, the fence is a pile of charred wood, and the fire hasn’t spared anything inside. My room is there, as is my burnt bed. So is the table where father and I ate mama’s soup. In red, on the front foundation of the house, there’s a message: Killer! Death to killers!

They’re…no, that can’t be. I know who can answer my questions.

The blacksmith’s home isn’t far from ours. Rachel definitely isn’t here, but her dad will tell me what I need to know.

Breaking into the house is easy enough. I use telekinesis to slip the bolt out of the lock and sneak in. I’m here to get answers, and I’d be perfectly happy to kill if that will help me get them. I’m wearing my death outfit—all I’m missing is a scythe.

“Get up, blacksmith, your time has come!”

What could be more fun than hearing that bastard howling wildly?

“Ah-h-h!”

The shroud of darkness and my skeleton hands touch the blacksmith’s face.

“Ready? I can take your wife, too.”

“Why don’t you just take her?”

Setting people up apparently runs in the family.

“No, just you. There’s a hole full of boiling blood and devils with pitchforks waiting to punish you for your sins. Get up.” I extend a bony hand.

His wife wakes up and runs out screaming, having heard exactly what her husband said. The blacksmith quivers.

“Two years ago, you had a daughter named Rachel and a neighbor who was a fisherman. What happened to them?”

The blacksmith, sobbing and sighing, tells me the part of the story that I couldn’t know.

“The fisherman had a son named Sagie who killed one of Teurus’ priests and ran. They couldn’t find him,” the blacksmith says, stopping to wipe his nose. “According to our laws, parents are responsible for their children, so they took them. I don’t know anything else, I swear!” He starts praying right there in the bed.

“Where’s your daughter?”

I feel an unimaginable rage. By some miracle, I don’t kill him. I need information.

“She disappeared right around that time, and we thought the slut had probably run off with the kid.”

“Why didn’t anyone suspect that your daughter was the one who killed the priest?”

The blacksmith thinks to himself and realizes what I’m getting at. His daughter isn’t there, meaning that he could be taken.

“They found a wooden dagger in the pool of the priest’s blood. When they started roughing up the slums looking for information, they found out that there were two wanderers Sagie apparently boasted to a week before the murder. He said he could rob the temple. When the guards came for Sagie, Camelia was the only one home. They showed her the dagger and asked if it belonged to her son. Arman was out fishing. When she said it did, they took her away and grabbed him when he got back.”

The dwarf’s tears stop. I boil with rage and an insatiable desire to take it out on the blacksmith, but father wouldn’t forgive me for that. The whole thing was Rachel’s fault, after all.

“Where were they taken? Where are they right now?”

Eleven flames leaped up in the room, and the blacksmith could see that I had skeleton arms and nothing but darkness under my hood. The effect was immediate: it was like someone had jabbed him with hot iron.

“Ah-h-h! I don’t know anything! They were taken away, and then Teurus’ fanatics burned their house! Destroying the whole family wasn’t enough for them!”

“What do you mean, destroying the whole family wasn’t enough?”

“Ye-e-es…” The blacksmith went back to his crying and hiccupping. “That’s what the new priest said at the parish meeting. He took them away himself.”

Apathy and emptiness overcome me.

But the blacksmith continues.

“But I don’t believe that. I remember what Arman was capable of—when he and his wife moved here, he broke my arm in a fight, and I was the one with a hammer. He went with them because he was going to find Camelia! They wouldn’t have been able to kill him.”

“…keep talking…” If there’s so much as a chance…

The flames all merge into a single fire hanging between the blacksmith and me. The darkness under my hood scares him, and I can see the coward shaking.

“He could have killed them if he wanted to,” the blacksmith says with a quiet sniff. “They told him that they had taken Camelia and would be passing judgement on their son, and that’s the only reason he went with them. When the priest said they had destroyed the killers, I didn’t believe him. Arman could have killed their whole detachment. No, something’s fishy.”

“You’re going to live. Although… Why did you call your daughter a slut if she was only fifteen?”

The blacksmith peers into the darkness, checks my height and voice.

“You’re…you’re Sagie?”

Hm, he guessed… But that’s fine. I slip off my hood, though the shroud of darkness and my gloves stay on.

“I’m death, and Sagie was sent to Hell for his sins. This is just his shell. Do you know what they call people who decide to look under my hood?”

He shakes his head so vigorously that it looks like it’s about to fall off.

“Answer me!”

“She was almost eighteen, and I’m sure she was a wanderer! We decided that the timing with the murder was just a coincidence, and that she ran off with some man.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don’t know. I was only ever her father by chance. She never called me father, and she spent all her time in the city.”

“I’m going to let you live.”

I don’t need him anymore. The temple of Teurus and its priest are my new targets. Morning will come soon, so I decide to wait.

Turning on stealth mode as soon as I leave the house, I run back to the city.

I meet the sunrise right at the door to the temple, prepared to kill anyone who gets in my way. I’ve waited two years for this, and I can wait another couple of hours. It turns out, I have an aura of my own now. The guards stay away from the odd boy standing across from the temple. Passers-by give me a wide berth, too, and the birds are afraid to fly down onto the ground.

The city wakes up, shopkeepers show up to sweep the street outside the stores, and I notice a mother and her child walking by. The boy sees me and bursts into tears. His mother turns, notices me, picks her child up, and runs off. Death has come to Imir.

The door to the temple opens. I step across the road, pulling my hand out and adjusting my cloak as I do so. A woman screams nearby.

The priest is waiting for worshippers at the altar, but I’m the only one who walks in.

“Hello. You’re the new father abbot at this temple?”

“Yes, my son. What brings you here?”

“I knew Nikon, the old father abbot. What happened to him?”

The priest looks closely at my face under the cloak.

“Ah, well, he was killed in his cell a couple of years ago.

“How? He was strong, and he had the protection of the god.”

“The thief broke in at night and killed him, taking the key to the storage locker.”

“Was he caught?”

The priest grimaces.

“No, but his sins were atoned for by his parents.”

“What happened to them?” My heart stops. I need the answer, but I’m afraid to hear it.

“Why do you ask about the parents? Ah…you’re Sagie?” The priest looks at me with an arrogant, satisfied look on his face.

I couldn’t care less that he figured out who I am. With one blow, I force him to his knees and start to choke him. The priest gets a good glimpse of the skeleton hands gripping his throat.

“The god won’t let–”

“Your god isn’t here! I’ll kill you before he has the chance to show up.”

The darkness under my hood instills terror in the priest. It’s all he can see.

I tighten my grip.

“They…” I let go slightly. “They ran away, I swear! Your father broke out, picked the lock, and ran off. Your mother was supposed to be executed first, and she was here.” I have a hard time controlling myself, and I start to empower my arms. “Wa-a-ait!”

“Wait for what? You killed my mother and think I’m going to let you go? I’ll eat you, drink your soul, and make it suffer!”

The priest is trying to say something.

“She said she hadn’t seen you and didn’t believe you could kill anyone. The worshippers were enraged at Nikon’s death and demanded blood. Right before we hung her, Arman broke through the line of guards, freed her, and ran off.”

“Where are they??”

“I don’t know…”

I let the priest go. He coughs before continuing.

“They were seen on the road to No Man’s Land in the south. That’s all I know. The god didn’t help us in our righteous efforts, and we lost the track.”

“If anything has happened to them, I’m coming back for your soul and your god.”

I toss the priest away and run out of the city. Tears stream down my face. Everything I cared about and loved, everything that was good and dear in the world was gone. Father, mama… I’ll avenge you! I promise, just stay alive.

***

In the south of Katain, there was a city named Viral that was famed for its culture and considered a resort area by the players. It had the best restaurants, brothels, casinos, nighttime shows, and concerts. The whole city was always a whirl of fun.

Three men were sitting at a table.

“I told you, Tiamat, they have the best beer here. And the food! It’s amazing. When they bring out the meat in the cream sauce, you’ll realize that coming here was worth it.”

The two-meter giant, who was dressed like a barbarian, nodded lightly and glanced at the bottom of his empty cup.

“I know. There’s something dirty and uncomfortable about just making an avatar and using your strength like this. I feel five orders weaker, almost helpless.”

“But that’s the only way you can enjoy this ale. Come on! If you’d come here in your own body, the whole city would have died, and the food would’ve been spoiled. Set, why so sad?”

“They don’t have wings. Remember how much we liked them?”

“Stop it! Just enjoy what they have. Soon we won’t even get that.” Idzumi polished off his glass with a single pull.

Tiamat and Set glanced at each other before looking at Idzumi.

“They’re fast. Is that why you asked us to come here?”

“Yep. Akashi said that the humans have completed their first stage of development, and war is about to start.”

“Who are they going to be fighting?”

“Undead raised and guided by the small pantheon of the last era.” Idzumi smiled, his whole expression beaming happiness, excitement, and anticipation. A thousand fires burned in the night sky, and people danced around them. The magical scene calmed him down when he was feeling agitated.

“Finally, the kids will have a decent opponent.” Tiamat glanced at the fires, deciding to have a little fun and turning them into the figure of a phoenix. The fiery bird covered the moon, and the city was plunged into shadow.

“The little ones have had enough fun in the sandbox. It’s time for them to see what it’s like to fight a real enemy.” Set decided to join the fun, too, and a giant dog with three flaming heads appeared on the mountain next to the city and howled terrifyingly at the phoenix and the moon. The glasses on the table shattered.

The trio laughed merrily even as panic broke out around them. The people there had been enjoying themselves without realizing what awaited them, but rumors were about to break out regarding the bad omen.

End of Book 1

Project Chrysalis:

Book 1: Gestation (find it on Amazon)

Book 2: End of an Era (find it on Amazon)

Book 3: Sleeping Player (find it on Amazon)

Book 4: Limitless (find it on Amazon)

From the Author

Hello, friend!

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked the beginning of Anji’s adventures. This is only the very beginning of his long journey. The next part can be found at the end of this book: as a present for you I’ve put a sample of book two there.

If you liked this book, please, let me know, leave a review on Amazon. I appreciate it a lot.

-       Best wishes, John Gold

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Dear reader. I hope you enjoyed the first book. So as a treat for you I have included a sample of the second book in the series.

Project Chrysalis 2

End of an Era

The Trial

Bernard was celebrating getting all the way to Level 950. Over the previous two years, he’d picked up 450 levels, created a powerful clan called the Black Rose, and nurtured the next generation of leaders. The former god did nothing but push himself continuously to the limit.

The guild’s military wing had spent the past two weeks clearing the local dungeons. Bernard pushed them, forcing them to level up and work on their skills, teamwork, and ability to think strategically. At some point, he had realized what a good thing it was that he had been the one to fight Idzumi and die at his hand. The ancient god rued the stupidity of underestimating his opponent, though he also knew that nobody else in the large pantheon could have created as strong a clan with such well-trained fighters.

During a modest party he was having with the other leaders, one of Bernard’s brothers got in touch with him.

“Hi, Bernard, can you talk?”

“Hey, Teur. It’s good to hear from you.”

“Well, something’s up. Do you remember the ritual in my temple, the one that created Leon?”

“Sure.”

“They sacrificed a kid. Anyway, my current high priest swears that the boy roughed him up and forced him to say what happened to his parents while he was dead.”

“Wait, wait, wait, how can that be? He’s in Hell! There’s no way out - nobody’s ever come back.”

His party mood vanished, replaced by fear of the unknown.

“Well, apparently, there is. The kid got away, and he’s not exactly looking human.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He showed up looking like death. The priest swears the boy was choking him with hands as cold as a skeleton’s.”

“Could he have just been scared?”

“No, he said he saw the arms of a skeleton. There was complete darkness under the kid’s hood too. The priest is Level 106, and the kid just shoved him down on his knees and choked him until he gave up the information. He even promised to eat him, drink his soul, and make him suffer - in my main temple! Can you imagine the nerve the kid has to pull that off?”

Bernard sat back in his chair, looking out the window in fear and hopelessness. His worst fears and deepest suspicions had been confirmed. Why hadn’t the quest been failed? The boy was alive, and he was in Imir.

“Did he say anything else? Did he mention me? Any threats or anything about the ritual?”

“He just said that he’d be coming for my soul if his parents were hurt. That was it. Nothing about you. Fun little character, don’t you think?”

“Okay, I’ll have my people in the city keep an eye out. If they see him, I’ll do what I can to neutralize him. What happened to his parents?”

“When the priest was killed, certain fanatics took matters into their own hands. The new priest wanted to solidify his position too. They were going to execute the two of them, hang them for murder, but they ran off to No Man’s Land. It’s all godlessness in there. I didn’t have a new high priest initiated yet, and I couldn’t create a new avatar for myself, otherwise I might have caught them.”

“That may be for the best. We don’t know what powers the boy has after Hell. Let’s hope he’ll just forget about us.”

“That’s possible, though I don’t think it’s very probable.”

“You are forgetting the wanderers of the last era! They proved how strong they can become over just a short period of time, something I only realized once I was brought back to life. Anyway, thanks for the news… How’s everything over there? I had a bad feeling after that war.”

“Yep, everything’s quiet. It’s been a good harvest, so everyone’s happy. It’s probably just odd that the little gods are lying low. They all went missing before the beginning of the war, almost at the same time.”

“Thinking up something unpleasant.” The mage grimaced, thinking back to their previous tricks.

“Who knows, Bernard? They talked with Idzumi during the wanderers’ last exodus too. Maybe, he offered them the same thing he offered us.”

“Could be. Okay, thanks.”

Teurus gone, Bernard exhaled freely. He needed to figure out what the boy was up to, what he was capable of, and if he was planning his revenge. Sagie was still a kid, which meant that making his childish dreams come true would make him willing to forgive and forget.

***

I did my best to put as much distance between me and Imir as I could. If Teurus paid me any attention, he’d be more than capable of using his followers to keep track of me. And I certainly don’t need any extra divine attention.

As soon as I left the city, I took off the cloak and gloves. I need to find my parents, but that isn’t going to happen right now. The road south will be locked down after my conversation with the priest. Instead, I head east and take a wide circle around the dwarf mountains. I want to get to No Man’s Land from the sea. Father…mama…I’m so glad you were able to get away! I’m going to avenge us on all our enemies. My sword is ready; my shield, not so much.

I asked everyone I found on the way to Imir, but nobody has heard about the Hunters. All I’ve found out are rumors about very strong people. I do notice that all the information I get about them is immediately deleted from the network, so it’s very possible that Lunar itself is keeping things under wraps. If I’m right, I’ll be able to pick up a hidden class after I beat the trial. What other kind of reward could there be for us geniuses? If nothing else, I’m intrigued by how secretive everything is.

It’s a five-day trip to Zirda from the sea, and there are woods and plains on the other side of the mountain, meaning that I have twelve days in reserve before the trial starts. I need a shield, and only the best will do.

The ocean is beautiful. The water soothes my nerves, and it even gives me the chance to work on my resistance to physical damage. On the boat from Heron to Sural, I did a lot of diving in search of poisonous fish. That was when I found out that you take continuous physical damage once you’re a hundred meters down, something I’m only too happy to leverage right now.

It’s a funny picture: a boy lying on the ocean bed with stones in his hands as he thinks about the mistakes he’s made in his life. Eliza has probably written another petition requesting urgent psychological care for me, and I’ll bet the station ArtIn has already turned her down.

I needed to calm down, throw any pursuers off the scent, and boost my resistance. Water is perfect for all those. To keep things interesting, I catch poisonous fish, open shells, and check to see how my spells work under water. None of the local fauna exceed Level 200, though there are plenty of plants. On the other hand, the lower I go, the fewer plants there are and the more dangerous the predators are. Anyway, the underwater world is beautiful. When I picked up the money I got for my loot, I bought almost two thousand flasks of underwater breathing potions. I burn six of them an hour, a hundred and forty-four every normal day, and almost three hundred in each of my days. That gives me eleven or twelve days in total. It’s just a shame that I can’t use blood magic, otherwise, I’d be able to level up much faster.

The ocean is a wondrous vision down there at the bottom. The fish, the rays of sunlight, the underwater scenery… It’s all so calming. I’m starting to realize why father likes fishing so much.

I was right about a few things. Father can’t just be a simple fisherman if he was able to break the blacksmith’s arm and pick his cell lock. His mastery in battle is impressive too. Of all the admittedly weak opponents I’ve had to deal with, father has been the most experienced and masterful, with a combination of skills I’ve only seen in marauders and thieves. On the other hand, father is definitely a craftsman. I saw what he can make with wood and bone. There just isn’t enough information… So, he was a marauder, and then he took up fishing? How did he change his class? How was he able to use his main class skill to pick locks? All I have are questions…

The dark used to scare me, but my fear left me the day I learned how to use it. Today is my seventh underwater, and I’ve gotten all the way down to eight hundred meters beneath the surface. When I combine my lights, I can see everything around me, even the underwater cleft I’ve been climbing down. There’s more than just the dark; I can’t help but notice an enormous squid swimming along with the current.

Monster, Kraken Spawn, Level 770. Raid boss.

The beast is easing its way toward my lantern with hundred-meter tentacles. The body itself looks two hundred meters long. The bright light must have attracted its attention, and it looks poised to taste whatever’s creating it.

I thought I knew how fast I could swim, but it turns out that I can do even better. The squid reached out his tentacles, though it left me in peace when they didn’t make contact with anything. If a raid boss at that level is just spawn, what must the Kraken’s level be? Has to be well past 1500…and those are the creatures living a kilometer deep in the ocean? Fun times. I make a mental note to come back once I’ve leveled up enough. Although, I don’t have any spells that really work down here.

I’m wading out when I see a message pop up.

Forced disconnection… In 3… 2… 1

Vaalsie is standing next to the capsule, his expression one of rage and disgust. The old man’s haughty face makes him look like some kind of scarecrow.

“Anji Ganet, you’re being transferred to a different orphanage. Gather your belongings and come with me.”

I follow silently, knowing full well what’s going to happen.

We get to the exit, the aerocar waiting outside, and I see Eliza, Galboa, and Finx standing next to it. I feel more rage than confusion.

“I don’t think you understood, Miss Donovan,” I say, so that only Vaalsie and Eliza can hear me. “Didn’t I make it clear to you that tricks like these would only backfire?”

Galboa calmly raises both hands, and pain flashes through me at the mere sight of him. My thoughts cross, it’s hard to think, my head feels tight… But I’ll never fall for something like this.

“Anji, Miss Donovan said you’re being transferred.” Galboa is just as direct as ever, speaking what’s on his mind without a hint of insult. I love that about him. “I know we haven’t seen each other for a couple years, and I don’t think we’ll see each other again, so I wanted to say goodbye.”

“You…you don’t get it. She’s manipulating you and the attention you pay me. She thinks I’m supposed to just talk with everyone, all of my peers.”

“You never said anything about that,” Galboa replied with a frown, though he isn’t angry.

The loathing I’ve been holding in starts to burst out. It’s been two years since the last time I cried, and here I go again.

“It hurts, and I hate talking with other people.” Tears flow down my cheeks, the grief is bitter in my mouth, and the lump in my throat hurts. “They’re idiots, ignorant fools who hurt other people because they were hurt first. It took everything I had just to explain the simplest ideas to them. Do you have any idea how painful it was to be in that hole? To feel your weakness in the middle of the crowd? Every last one of them would be happy to boost their self-confidence by beating me up. I know I’m a kid, I know how smart I am, and that just makes it worse! They’re evil and stupid, cruel and weak. I felt like I was at home in the space port. I’d more call it home than the orphanage. I did nasty work, feeling happy because you two were there. My home is where the people I care about are. I realized that when it hit me how much I missed you and the crew. And now, Eliza has ruined everything.”

“I didn’t do anything. You made that decision yourself,” the psychologist replied, shrugging demonstratively.

So, being a psychologist means you have to be completely heartless?

“Hm,” I say, swallowing and looking around. “The last time we talked, I said how I wasn’t going to bite on your little games anymore. Neither Galboa nor Finx mean anything to me now, and that’s all thanks to you. Goodbye, Galboa; see you, Finx. I’m glad I was able to see you before leaving for the colony.” It hurts just to look at them, knowing that I’ll never see them again.

“Take care of yourself.”

Vaalsie walks me over to the aerocar, an odd grimace on his face, and sends it flying to the space port. His job is to get me to the shuttle and make sure that I reach my destination. Once that’s done, he’s no longer considered my guardian.

As we fly along the track to the space port in the aerocar, all the wonderful memories come flooding back. It was here that I learned more than I had in my whole life before. Galboa was a good teacher, and Finx was a friend, but I’m never going to make that mistake again… I’m never going to get myself in a situation where the people I care about can be used against me. Eliza is starting to disgust me. I’m never going to talk with her again. Not even in the game!

After Vaalsie gets me settled in the shuttle, he looks at me reproachfully.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, Supervisor Vaalsie. I have never told anyone about the things you get up to. It wouldn’t have done me any favors.”

“You went so long without talking, and now you’re talking like this.” Vaalsie shakes his head. “Do you actually realize that you’re being transferred to another colony?”

“Sure. I guessed so, based on the shuttle, but you’re fine. You did a wonderful job as supervisor and never once broke etiquette. The same is true of the rules, and you’re the only one who knows about your contracts.”

Vaalsie looks at me, and it’s only now that I see how haggard and old he looks. His usual bearing, the glint in his eye are gone, and all I see is an old man decommissioned to supervise an orphanage.

“Supervisor Vaalsie, you really should sign up for a rejuvenation course or, at least, some supportive care.”

“If you only knew how much that costs,” the old man laughs. “Good luck, Anji Ganet.”

“Thanks, Supervisor Vaalsie.”

I even feel bad for him. I’ve spent so many years suffering from his tricks, and only now see how difficult his life with the orphans has been. The shuttle takes off, leaving him standing there watching sadly as we gain altitude.

Goodbye, Vaalsie.

***

Eliza flew off in an aerocar with Galboa and Finx, her mind preoccupied by a number of different things. For just a short conversation, there had been quite a few unpleasantries packed into it. Galboa decided to break the silence.

“Miss Donovan, thanks for telling us about Anji’s transfer. I haven’t seen him since my recovery, and I wasn’t able to thank him. It’s been so long that even Finx had almost forgotten about him.”

“You wanted to thank him? He was only able to work in the space port thanks to you.”

“Oh, that’s nothing. After my accident,” Galboa continued, pointing at his right arm, “I was sent to a free hospital. They restored me and stuck engineering implants in my wrist, but I wasn’t earning anything. Somebody sent me money from an anonymous account, just about the same as what I would have earned in that month and a half, and that had to be Anji. I couldn’t return the money. I didn’t have any back then. I wanted to return it now, though, since it’s Anji. He remembers every debt, down to the last penny. But that’s not how it turned out. He didn’t want to listen.”

Eliza didn’t understand the situation or why Ganet was so resolute. He was a child, he’d adopted the crew as his family, and she had tried to use that against him. Ever since the conversation in the cafeteria, Anji had been more afraid for them than he was for himself. He, a child, had looked after the people around him. He’d cared for them even when his own life was painful and difficult. And just now, she’d created a situation that had led him to turn away from the people he loved most.

“Forgive me, Mr. Filtz. It didn’t turn out the way I planned.”

“It’s okay. You gave me the chance to see him, and I know everything’s going to be okay now. That’s good enough for me.”

Anji had turned away from the people he cared about in order to leave behind his weakness and vulnerability. She hadn’t realized that during their conversation in the virtual space. But that’s what it had led to. The force of the boy’s resolution was off the charts.

But he’d let one thing slip. He’d said that he was glad to see his friends before leaving for the colony, although he couldn’t have known that he wasn’t being transferred to another orphanage at the station. It sounded like nothing much, but it was Anji. Given his intelligence, it had to mean something.

***

Leon sat on the windowsill watching the turmoil in the castle courtyard. Airis Castle, the clan’s headquarters ever since his cult had been founded, was leveling up. A line of ditches was being dug around the outer wall, right up against the foothills of the mountain.

Global notification: An undead invasion has begun.

Merlen and his assistants dashed into the room.

“Leon, did you see that? Undead, and a global notification. You were right!”

The young god thought to himself for a second.

“Damn it! The bodies! After the war…there were lots of corpses, and I hadn’t thought about that. Where did the fighting happen?”

“Everywhere! On three continents, only Katain wasn’t touched. The old gods took out everyone who tried to hide there.”

“Start gathering information.” Leon began receding into the astral. “We need to figure out how bad things are. If it isn’t terrible, we’ll send out a couple of dozen squads to clear everything and kill the liches, though we’ll need a larger-scale solution if the problem is worse than that. We have to protect the faithful.”

A minute later, having looked around the land through the eyes of his followers, Leon realized just how bad the situation was and where help was needed most. They had to act fast. He got in touch with all the alliances under their control.

“Comrades, we have a problem facing us around the whole world! There’s a global undead invasion in Ovidius across the human lands. The minimum level is 570. They’re just simple undead so far, but the chimeric undead will start appearing by this evening. The first battles are being fought in the south by the dwarf mountains. The dwarves took on the first wave, but their defenses are going to crack in the next few hours. Once that happens, they’ll retreat into their underground cities. Things are even worse on the other continents. The elves’ Spring Forest is under siege, currently protected by a powerful magic shield. Our most important job is to protect the locals and get them from the villages to the cities. Give them all the help you can. Protect their carts and mounts. Help them get inside the city walls, and put the cities on siege footing. My avatars will cover you until we have everyone evacuated.”

A minute later, Leon’s avatars had settled in the warriors helping to protect the cities. There were lots of undead, all a good 200 levels above the players, and they were just the first to arrive. In fact, it was what Leon saw on the border of No Man’s Land that scared him ten times as much as all that comparatively insignificant stuff: an undead army worthy of a god.

The worst part was the realization of how much prana was flowing through the beasts. Whenever the army decided to move out, the world was going to descend into darkness. Still, it remained frozen until the command was given.

***

As I fly along in the shuttle, I look out into space. It’s an interesting sensation, hurtling through a vacuum in comfort. It isn’t cold, you aren’t hungry, you aren’t afraid. The shuttle has everything you need. It’s my first flight outside the station, and I’m nervous and excited. Space is beautiful!

To pass the time, I think about the game. Lunar created Project Chrysalis, and the nation itself was founded sixty years ago out of Armadillo Industries, a company mining resources in open space and manufacturing parts for space ships and stations. The company had 25 million employees when it declared its independence, the surprising part being that there was just one owner. The head of the company decided against selling off shares. Instead, he used his own money to develop the company. Currently, Lunar occupies the entire Moon and uses it as efficiently as possible: the dark side is for collecting solar energy, while the rest is covered in colonies linked by underground tunnels forming a road network crisscrossing the Moon. Gravity was artificially modified to 1G, the Earth standard.

All ground colonies now use artificial gravity. When Lunar was unveiled after a ten-year period of isolation, it turned out to be twenty years ahead of the rest of the scientific community. To put it simply, they could have conquered the world had they been the slightest bit interested in doing so. The tech and scientific principles used to build the device that created artificial gravity was far beyond those known to science anywhere else. Lunar was forced to reveal another twenty-six discoveries from other fields just so the world could understand how the devices worked.

Over the last fifty years, Lunar has financed research around the world and is currently an active participant in the fight against war between people. The fact that people there are interested in me is scary. What could be more frightening than people whose interests are a mystery to you? They never invest money without good reason, so I’m going to have to pay it back directly or indirectly.

Lunar is a closed nation. You can only get in with an invitation. In most cases, the only people who do get invitations are scientists and researchers whose projects interest the Lunar government. The citizens themselves rarely leave. Why would they, living as they do in the most technologically developed country in the world? It has the best resorts, the best laboratories, the best hospitals, the best specialists. You can find anything in Lunar.

My shuttle flight is nearing the end. We’re entering Europa’s atmosphere and I can see the enormous Arpa Dome from my window. The shuttle flies through the energy barrier and instantly switches on the inertia suppressors.

The space ports in most colonies are built the same, so I know exactly where we’re landing. The attendant from my new orphanage is already there waiting for the shuttle doors to open.

“Hi, Anji Ganet. I’m your new supervisor, Carl Shultz, but you can call me Carl.”

He’s a man aged around thirty-five, and he stands with a military bearing.

“You have been transferred to an orphanage for gifted children. Follow me, and you’ll get your instructions and meet everyone else when we get there.”

My acquisition turns out to be a sight for sore eyes. The orphanage bought a wing in a small administrative building that was otherwise deserted. When I was preparing to make the purchase, I focused on a few different criteria, with price in just second place. I want to swim! Because of that, I picked Arpa, a resort city on the surface of Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons. The entire surface used to be covered in water, and that’s what they use in the city’s resort area. This, needless to say, is way better than only being able to swim in Project Chrysalis. I can now enjoy it whenever I want. Most importantly, I only have to follow the charter and rules, though I can change a lot of that too.

There’s a huge lake with a beach right behind the orphanage. As soon as I get settled, I head out back for a swim, my money-making trip through Hashan worth every minute. The lake is warm; the sandy bottom is firm and covered with soft plants. The sky glistens above me. Arpa is protected by an enormous dome reaching three kilometers above the ground, and it can even make rain clouds. The artificial stars and the floodlight imitating sunlight adds realism to the scenery. I swim and sun myself happily. Father…mama…I want to see you so badly.

I only brought smart, tough kids to the orphanage as I need an atmosphere of trust built on mutual understanding. If we can achieve that, I’ll be able to live happily.

For now, the orphanage is only half full, with the rest of the kids scheduled to arrive over the next few days from more distant stations and colonies. But I need to jump back into Project Chrysalis in the meantime.

I log in.

It’s funny, jumping out of the water and then running out onto it wearing the lord sandals. A wave rushes in and douses me.

I shouldn’t have been so harsh on myself for making sandals I can use to walk across the water. The wonderful little things let me run and, when I need to, dive in, so I dash over to the bank. Ten meters from the beach, a message pops up.

Attention.

You’re crossing the border into No Man’s Land.

Children enjoy no protection here.

Oh, interesting! Other players can kill me here. When you kill people, you get something from them, but killing me creates big problems. I only have highly unusual things with me. If marauders figure out what’s going on, they’ll keep coming after me… Oh, geez… My respawn point is in Sural, a completely different continent.

My imp eye is a weird thing. Even though I don’t see the object, I definitely know where and how far away from me it is. It’s like an area that makes no sound, an anomaly in the background noise. All living creatures deaden sound with their bodies, of course. That means that my imp eye works even if they’re using stealth or invisibility. Right now, I have the feeling that somebody’s standing there waiting for me to walk another five meters. It’s a PK zone, so that means he wants to kill me. Well, isn’t that unfortunate for him? I don’t have anything to poison or paralyze him with, so I eat the first hit before stunning him.

Damage received: 13400 (ignored [partial]): 16863)

6700/6700

As soon as he hits me, my opponent turns visible. Sure, I could have killed him before, but I need information. He’s stunned so can’t do anything now, and I don’t sense anyone else nearby.

“My good man, you’re going to come to in a second and stop poking me with your daggers. I could have killed you the second I crossed into No Man’s Land.”

The marauder finally came to and started giving me answers.

“So, why didn’t you kill me?”

“What’s the point of that? I’m here for information, and you’re going to give it to me. If you refuse, I’ll kill you. It’ll be self-defense, too, since you attacked me first.”

“Screw you, kid.”

My dwarf hammer is imposing even when I’m only using one stream of consciousness. It leaves the man lying on the ground, a bit squished into the loose sand.

“Do you get what I’m trying to tell you or do I need to kill you after all?”

“I get it.”

“There’s a road that takes you from Imir to No Man’s Land. If I were to follow it, what city or village would I get to?”

“First, Vishki…then Zirda. After that, you can go anywhere you want.”

Finding my parents is going to be easy if that’s all there is.

“Do any of the locals work that road?”

“Nope. The people here are fine, just coming here to escape hard lives elsewhere. It’s only the PKers that kill everyone.”

“Do you know where Zirda is?”

“Yep.”

“Show me on my map.”

The marauder pointed out exactly where the city was. Time to let him go? No, I need more questions answered.

“How did you do so much damage? I took a whole 13000!”

“You’re wearing cloth armor, kid. I do piercing damage, and I have a class skill for strikes in the back. There’s your 13000. How did you survive it?”

Clever guy!

“Because I knew someone was going to attack me. I could sense you. What’s your name?”

“Ritor.”

Ritor, Level 39

Doing that kind of damage at this level isn’t bad at all.

“What are you doing out here, so far from the roads to No Man’s Land?”

“Kid, in these parts, everyone hunts each other. Nobody’s neutral. You only have friends and enemies. I’m sitting out here in the middle of nowhere because it’s the only place anyone will let me hunt. In the week I’ve been here, you’re the first person to come in from the sea.”

“Brutal. What’s the maximum damage a marauder or assassin can do?”

“How should I know? With buffs and potions, my max is 50000. I’m no pro, but I can hit you pretty good. Okay, just let me go.”

“There are pros? What’s the difference between them and normal marauders?”

“Oh, please, why don’t you just kill me? Let me go back to the respawn in peace.”

“You’ll go back if you don’t answer my questions.”

“You know what? Screw you…”

I don’t want to make a noise, so I have to stun him before finishing him off. He could have written anyone in chat, after all. Then, I pick up the modest loot and run off in the direction of Zirda, stealth mode activated.

So, I learned a few things. First, players can do a lot of damage if they’re well-prepared or specialize in short battles. Second, there are professional killers who, the marauder said, can do even more damage. I’m better off staying away from them and sticking to stealth mode.

I lost two days thanks to the move to the new orphanage. Because of that, I have to hurry and find Zirda before the trial starts.

Over the five days it takes me to traverse No Man’s Land, I realize how naïve I used to be. My shield keeps me pretty safe from general attacks, but I only ignore part of the damage if it’s concentrated on a specific point. Each of those different points reacts differently, though the soft spots on my body are the ones that take the most damage by far. My skull and ribcage, for example, stand up well against chopping and clubbing attacks. On the other hand, they have a hard time with piercing attacks. It’s the same everywhere. Besides that, there are vulnerable spots where daggers and other sharp objects do double the damage. The marauder hit one of them. My current resistance to physical damage blocks 80000. That means that I was able to survive a piercing attack to my kidneys, a weak point with low resistance that gives opponents that double damage. That’s actually a big reason why most players don’t pay attention to “nonsense” like boosting their resistance. It takes incredible resistance to be able not to worry about piercing attacks at all. Also, there are some swords that scorch or do electric damage, and you really have to be careful around those. I need to boost my shield or find another solution to the problem.

I’m learning so much. For instance, stealth is half as effective as invisibility, so it only takes 125 perception for people to discover me. Thieves, marauders, and assassins all have a class ability for silent walking. Happily, that doesn’t save them from imp eye. When people talk with me and I tell them my name, they see a red bar that tells them I attacked another player first and killed them, although, in actual fact, I’ve only ever killed people who were following me. I don’t touch anyone else.

Running around in my death costume is a ton of fun. When I catch players, they give up quickly and tell me what I need to know. I find out everything there is to know about the villages and what’s going on in them.

“Why are there so many people from the west here? Just today, a good twenty of them tried to attack me.”

“There’s an undead invasion there! The other side is sending their troops on from the other side of the continent, and they’ll be here tomorrow.”

“What invasion? When did it start?”

“A week ago. What, you didn’t see the global notification?”

“Sorry, my friend, you get other messages in purgatory. Want to find out what they are? I have a one-way ticket with your name on it.”

“No, thanks. Why don’t you just let me go? I told you everything you wanted to know.”

Just then, two more creep up behind me. My imp eye tells me where they are, and two dwarf hammers come pounding down on them. The two powerful spells, created with five streams of consciousness each, shatter the bodies of the marauders and bury them in the ground.

“It looks like your friends are going to keep you company down there.” I don’t even move. Killing two marauders without even twitching creates a strong impression.

“N-no… I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

“Tell me about the undead invasion.” My boney, childish hands touch the marauder.

“A week ago, there was a global notification, and the small pantheon started pulling all their believers into the cities. The same thing happened here.”

It turns out that high-level undead are about to fill No Man’s Land.

“What level are they?”

“All different kinds, from little Level 700s to even Level 1000s. I saw Bone Dragons, too. With my own eyes. The darkness, the clouds, the army! They have hounds of death, skeletons, ghouls, flesh terrors, and lots of chimeric beasts. All high-level.”

“Is that really so bad?”

“You don’t get it. They’re all over three continents! What are you doing, giving Hell more souls to send out?”

“I’m not the only one doing it. Hey, were there any lords here? I mean, black clouds with eyes that cast auras a long way?”

“No, I didn’t see any. Why, are they coming?”

“Sure… When they do, you’ll realize how bad things really are. Thanks for the information. You’re free to go.” The guy smiles just before another blow from a dwarf hammer sends him to the respawn.

Interesting! I need to head west. Zirda may be under siege. There’s an army of the undead to deal with and I don’t have anything to fight them with.

People might look for me in the city, so I need a way of staying out of sight. I need another look. If they’re looking for a fourteen-year-old boy, I’ll become a normal girl the same age. Of course, it’s tricky, but if you think about your body language and don’t talk… I should be able to pull it off if I put the whole thing together: hair, a dress, the mannerisms…

It takes me half a day to make a staff, the kind a girl might have. I assume they like trinkets and colorful stones.

Terrible apprentice staff

A well-meaning carpenter apprentice made a mage’s staff, though he wasn’t able to do much without a craftsman skill.

Effect: Mana +2250

Requirements: Intellect 80

Durability: 250/250

Yeah, I should have made something like this a long time ago. It’s a beautiful stick with a bunch of jewels and an enormous chunk of blood malachite on top. I have to jury-rig it, which is why it doesn’t give any attribute boosts, though I can enchant it later once I find some victims.

Next, I need a long-haired wig, and then the kind of dress a girl mage might wear. I end up buying them in Zirda at the auction. What about a mask? I decide against one, figuring that it would garner me too much attention. Using a potion that transforms my hair into what I’m looking for works much better.

After the news about the undead invasion, I hurry as fast as I can. If I don’t get there in time, it will be tough to get into the city.

It takes me a day and a half to get to Zirda, but I make it. The locals from the surrounding towns and villages are all pouring in. Whole columns of wagons are trundling in from the west, getting through without any real inspection, though the same can’t be said of those on foot. If they’re looking for me, I’m better off not being seen by the guards.

Running up to the very last wagon, I call up to the driver.

“Excuse me, could you give me a ride into the city?”

“Head in with the other kids. They’re in the cart two up from mine.”

“Nah, I’d rather go with you. You look way more fun.”

“Well, in that case, jump in. I won’t let you sit on the goats though.”

I get comfortable behind him, next to his load and two white goats.

“They’re beautiful.” I like animals. They’re often nicer than people.

“Those two are my favorites.”

“What are their names?”

“Mira and Tira. Those are my daughters’ names. They’re somewhere in Katain, off with some guys.”

“You must miss them.”

Sadness flitted through the driver’s eyes.

“Yes, but there’s a cost to everything.”

I knew that prisoners and convicts often flee here, so I know better than to ask anything else.

“Hey, did you live far? How long did it take you to get from there to here?”

“We’re from Vishki, a day away. Where are you from? You don’t look local.”

Vishki. That means the population is all headed here.

“I’m from Sural, here to go through the trial for the Hunters. Do you know who they are? They invited me, but they didn’t say anything.”

“Nope, though I can tell you that they aren’t normal hunters. How did you get here?”

“With my uncle, though he was killed by marauders. I was too afraid to stay in the woods, so I took off running in the direction of the city. I saw you just when my legs were about to give out.”

“Hey, we haven’t met yet. What’s your name?”

I’m stuck. If I don’t tell him my name, he might give me up to the guards. If he’s a follower of Leon or Teurus, he might give me up to them. Although, the important thing right now is to get into the city.

“Sagie.”

“I’m Metarion.”

Human, Metarion, Level 177

Huh… My red nickname doesn’t surprise him in the least.

We get through the city gate and find ourselves in the main square.

“Metarion, do you happen to know if a married couple came through your village two years ago? They were local, not wanderers. Arman and Camelia.”

“You have questions.” He shoots a sharp glance at me. “Yes, there was a couple like that. They stopped in the elder’s house before leaving, so you should ask him if you want to know more. Just remember that he’s a sly old dog. If you want information, you have to give him a rare item. He says they jog his memory.” Metarion laughs.

“Thanks. What does he look like? And how can I find him?”

“He’s at the head of the column, in the first cart. He looks like your normal old guy with a long gray beard, and his name is Flas.”

“Thanks.” I pull a handful of gold out of my pocket and drop it on the goats before running off to the head of the column.

He earned the money, if only by getting me past the guards.

The column is winding its way through the whole city, and finding the guy turns out to be easy. Like Metarion said, he’s right at the front. There are also four large, serious-looking kids holding axes riding with him. They watch me darkly, though they let me through to the old man.

“Hello, sir. Are you Flas, by any chance?”

“What do you need, kid?”

“I’m looking for a couple, Arman and Camelia. They made their way through your city about a year ago, stopping in to see you before continuing on their way.”

“Yes, something like that, though I can’t exactly remember. My memory isn’t what it used to be.”

The world is going to pot. Bribes have made their way into the game, and I have no choice but to pull a bracelet I got from an attacker out of my pack.

“Thanks, that’s a fine gift.” Flas drops it into his bag, and I figure he’ll just say that he forgot to give it back if anything happens. “Yes, I remember them. They bought horses, lots of provisions, and clothing.”

“Do you know where they were going?”

“I can’t quite recall.”

A pair of glittering eyes look back at me, expecting another bribe. I have to give him my sword. At least, I have a ton of junk like that. I was going to sell it all anyway, since I’m running out of room.

“I’ll be honest, they didn’t tell me where they were going. They said I was better off not knowing when I asked. With that many provisions, though, they must have wanted to make it all the way through No Man’s Land. Maybe, they were heading for the dwarf mountains in the south. Their questions sure smacked of that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Hm, it seems to have slipped my mind.”

“Are you kidding me? I’ve already paid you twice for your memory.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just kidding. I usually just take one thing, but you were generous enough to give me two. Arman, the guy, was looking for warm clothes. I have a feeling they wanted to make it through the mountain pass rather than heading underground. Although, he could have had some other reason.”

“How did they look? Was everything okay? Were they hurt?”

“Yes, they were fine. Tired, hungry, and dirty, but fine. They were attacked a couple of times along the way, but their dogs saved them.”

I burst into tears at the news. They were able to make it the whole way and even beat off attacks.

“Thanks.”

I was terrified after the first attack. I thought my parents had been killed, and then I convinced myself that they were okay. Now, I’m finding out that they were able to get through the most dangerous part: the entrance to No Man’s Land. That’s where most of the PKers are, and therefore, the worst chances of survival, but they made it. Happily, there wasn’t anybody too strong for them right then. The well-trained dogs could sense enemies even without seeing them, too, and the most important thing is that my parents are alive. I know where to go now to pick up their track.

With just four hours to go until the trial, I need to pick up everything I need. I run over to the auction to buy a wig, a dress, and a potion.

Gallia Flaming wig

Gallia was a well-known fire mage who spent her life with luscious golden girls. When she got older, she made a wig with the same hair that now serves a different master.

Defense: 1

Effect:

Intellect +25

Morale +15

Requirements:

Intellect 30

Durability:

130/130

Rare and better items have their own story - so it is with the dress.

Red Camelia dress

There was once a sorceress called Red Camelia. Her dress was always blood-stained from dragging the wounded from the field of battle.

Defense: +2

Effect:

Intellect +10

Herbalism +10

Requirements:

Intellect 10

Durability:

150/150

I didn’t pick the dress because of the attributes; I picked it because of the name. It reminds me of mama, who I’ve gone years without seeing.

Then, I pick up some rare potions that give me a girl’s voice for an hour. Since I have to get a hundred of them at once, I pay as much for them as I pay for everything else combined. I never would’ve thought I’d dress up like a woman of my own free will… It’s disgusting! How do they even wear things like this? The dress is so uncomfortable, and it hampers my movement. On the other hand, my mage girl look is complete. It’s just a shame I don’t have time to work out the kinks and learn how to feel natural in it.

The Three Solo Trips is a tavern in the slums with a dubious reputation among the locals. I get two steps away from it and realize that there are at least three people a few steps away, all invisible.

“You three need to get out of here before you die like many before you.”

I can kill them, but it’s a dangerous situation for me, too. If they’re low-level, they can beat down my resistance by rushing me together. If they’re high-level, it’ll just take one blow.

The marauders are silent.

“Should I begin or are you going to walk away?”

They step aside and let me walk into the tavern. What, so you can attack people inside the city? Or did they want to just keep me from getting inside?

But catching a glimpse of the barman puts an end to my musings.

“Three portions of Koryak mussels.”

“They’ll be right up. There are tables free in the basement, so I’ll have a waiter take you there.”

The waiter, just like everybody else working there, gives me a strange feeling. They all walk carefully without making a sound. The comfortable clothes they’re wearing are silent as well, and their shoes neither creak nor rattle.

“Excuse me…are you an assassin by class?”

The waiter glances at me for just a fraction of a second, but that’s enough time to make me take up a fighting position and brace for a hit. What a difference in experience! I can’t help but admire him… And he’s just a waiter?

“You’re mistaken,” he replies with a light smile before turning away and continuing on.

Yeah, sure, I’m mistaken. He’s a killer, and a fantastic one. No, he isn’t a marauder, an assassin, or a thief. He’s a killer, even without the class. Incredible! His staggering mastery shines through every movement, every word, every gesture. I can’t help but notice how he doesn’t make any extra motions. His stride is flawless.

We take a wide staircase down to the basement. On the outside, it looks like an excellent restaurant, what with all the tables, the candles, and the smells. Curtains hide the entrances to private rooms, and the “waiter” leads me over to the one all the way on the left and pulls back the curtain. On the other side, there’s a portal. I certainly wasn’t expecting a stationary portal in a bar located somewhere in the slums.

“Go ahead. The trial will start in ten minutes.”

“Do I have to go through the portal? There are a lot of people looking for me, and I don’t want anyone to see where I’ve been.”

The waiter smiles kindly.

“It’s not part of the portal network, so no third parties see the data from it. You don’t have to worry.”

“Thanks.”

“Good luck, boy.”

Ah-ha! He knows I’m not who I appear to be. The shimmering film of the portal lets me through.

***

A week had passed since the undead invasion began. All the surrounding villages were evacuated, the villagers brought to the cities. The clan management was working around the clock.

Finding food and shelter for all the believers had been hard, and they’d had to work with the people in the cities to build homes and provide supplies. For the farmers in Katain, which hadn’t been touched by the catastrophe, the invasion was nothing short of a boon. The gold-heavy contracts rained down on them.

Leon could have moved part of the population to Katain, but that would have lost him believers. They would have started worshiping the old gods in control over there. The old gods had no qualms about playing it dirty, killing priests and destroying temples, so they definitely wouldn’t have missed that chance to pick up a few adepts. There was no sense even talking with them. It was a question of life and death, and the old gods were only too happy to stick a knife in your back when you were at your weakest.

Avoiding direct participation, Leon just coordinated his commanders. His avatars protected the cities while everyone was being moved into them, though the players they settled into didn’t get any experience. The small squads were getting wiped out, too. It was like someone was whispering in Leon’s ear, telling him that he would have to use all his strength to emerge victorious. Death was the only other option. The undead were able to easily outmaneuver their opponents on a tactical and a strategic level, pulling players into ambushes where they mowed them down. They were playing with Leon, demonstrating their superiority in skirmishes, not to mention the war as a whole.

“Leon, Leon, wake up!”

The god shook himself out of his contemplation and looked up at Merlen, who was shaking him by the shoulder.

“I’m telling you, it’s ready. We built our first war machine! You were right from the very beginning, back when you were talking about your hunches and building up the alliance’s craftsmen.”

As soon as the first bells had sounded, Leon had given orders to the clan and the entire alliance to start putting their craftsmen through their paces. The clans’ storehouses were full two weeks later. Everybody in the crafting wing worked as hard as they could to level up their skills but the climax came when magic and crafting fused to create the first war machine. It was a nine-meter colossus controlled by several mages and designed to do physical damage to the enemy. Every hit left a dent in the earth, not to mention dead or severely wounded opponents. It turned out to be too much even for the undead.

The problem was the cost. Just one machine ran to about two million gold, as they were made out of tons of different components. The process took blacksmiths, metallurgists, artifactors, life and mind mages, alchemists, and many more masters, too. Right then, it was time to give the machine its first try.

The machine rushed out of the gate and crashed into the undead army standing right outside the castle shields. For twenty minutes, it crushed with sheer force everyone standing in its path. Nobody in the field could stand up to it. Then, suddenly, the undead pulled back in an orderly fashion, creating an open area around the machine. The mages stopped their masterpiece as they tried to figure out what their opponents had in mind.

An enormous chimeric worm, its body the flesh of different creatures, tore out of the ground and hurled itself at the machine. The battle was an unequal one. The worm was much larger than the machine.

Undead, Small Chimeric World-Eater, Level 713. Raid boss.

Everyone watching from the walls of the castle dropped their arms in shock. The worm, nearly a hundred and fifty meters long, dwarfed the machine, and the mages tried to get their baby back behind the cover of the shields. They were almost successful, but the worm bit off one leg before disappearing back underground. The machine crawled over to the walls of the castle and collapsed.

“What are we supposed to do now?” Merlen asked, depressed.

“Why are you upset? We just found out what the opponent’s actual strength is, we tested a new weapon, and it’s been just a week since the invasion began.”

“But no more than one percent of our military wing can take on the undead as equals! And without good commanders, even they’re taken out like a bunch of green kids,” Merlen flared up. Two had died in Rachel’s group.

“Don’t worry. All this means is that we’re at the beginning of a long road. For now, we need to change our income model and the way we level up our forces. Keep going, my friend! There’s lots of work to do.”

Everything the undead did felt like a challenge to Leon. The cities were all under siege, though no efforts were made to capture them. It was like the undead were there to see what he could do. When it came to managing the small groups, it felt the same; his opponents easily stripped his defenses and blocked his attacks.

Leon could have won, but he didn’t have troops capable of taking on the undead. He needed time to develop the clan’s warriors, not to mention constant diversionary strikes to keep his opponents off balance with hits to the rear. He also wanted to understand their tactics. For that, the best option was the world’s greatest mercenaries and stealth masters: the Hunters.

But Leon really had no idea how strong the enemy was.

***

The portal takes me to a large area that looks more like an amphitheater, with a wide variety of fighters sitting on the steps. And I was afraid I’d stick out. Yeah, right. There are werewolves, super-mages, blood knights, paladins, marauders, mages, archers, animal masters, and just about everyone else you could think of. Oh, god, where am I? It’s a freak show. Hey, what’s that? Suddenly, I realize that there are about twenty people sitting there invisible, and another five hundred children. There are a lot more of them than there are adult players.

Taking a free spot in the third row, I ask the person sitting next to me a question that’s been bothering me for a while.

“Hey, who are the Hunters?” I’m tired of feeling like an idiot as everyone looks at me with curiosity or even pity.

“Little girl, why don’t you get out of here?”

At least, they left their camouflage in place.

“Oh, stop. I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me what I want to know.”

“Girls these days are nastier than they used to be.”

“…”

“You’ll hear it all for yourself soon enough. As soon as it’s time, the administrator will come and tell the whole story.”

“How do you know?”

“I went through this a year ago.”

“Oh, so the trial screens people out?”

“Yes, they test your battle skills in a variety of situations.”

“Are the tests hard?”

“Impossible! You’ll definitely fail, I’ll tell you that much. Making enemies just to get information you don’t need is idiotic.”

“And–” I’m not able to finish.

A man in light armor with chainmail peeking out under it appears in the middle of the stage. He has both a sword and a knife in his belt. I guess he’s the administrator, and probably dual style.

“Good afternoon, honored guests. Today is the trial for entrance into the ranks of the Hunters. For the kids who were able to get here, we don’t have a limit on the level you have to be or get your skills to. Still, you can get a class when you turn sixteen. Okay, you can go.”

A roar broke out as children shouted, celebrated, and clamored. I was so stupid to think I’d get a class here. It’s a trial for anyone who wants to get into the adult world earlier, giving them the chance if they can get information about the quest itself and show up at the appointed time and place.

The children are making a racket. I just look down at my hands and think. Strength, I’ll get strength. I’m just a couple of weeks short of my fourteenth birthday, but it’s still a small victory. I feel somebody’s eyes on me and look up to notice the children gradually falling silent. The administrator is looking at me.

“Young lady, it’s time for you to leave.”

“I was invited to the Hunter trial,” I shrug. “I don’t know anything about kids. But what are the Hunters, and what’s the class?”

Practically everyone in the arena breaks out laughing.

“Oh, you don’t even know where you are or why you’re here? Well, let me explain. The League of Hunters is an independent group, the best of the best in this world. The best warriors, killers, mages, artifactors, and strategists become Hunters. It isn’t a class; it’s a group of people with outstanding personal qualities and special skills they use to do the hardest jobs. We’re the ones who do what normal people aren’t strong enough to do.”

“That’s an awfully abstract answer.”

“You’re right, young lady. The Hunters have three skills: manipulation for mages, amplification for warriors and marauders, and accuracy for archers. Wisdom, athleticism, and morale disappear from your attribute panel, while your stamina is temporarily responsible for your strength, mana, and health. Your survivability is for your mana and health restoration.”

“What does that give you?”

“For example, I’m a mage and sword master,” the administrator replies, pulling out his sword and obsidian dagger. I was right about him being dual style. “I became a Hunter when I was just an ordinary mage,” he continues, holding the sword aloft and making it glow as the dagger sends sparks into the air. A small lizard familiar appears on his shoulder. “This weapon was made to order, and I can use it to channel the kind of magic I’m looking for.” He holds the sword out, showing off the change; it turns brighter and brighter. “My manipulation skill enables me to change the power of the spell it’s using. For now, my limit is three hundred and twenty percent manipulation of the magic charge, while the maximum is a thousand percent and a manipulation skill of 1000.”

“Very interesting. What about the other skills you all have?”

“Hm,” the administrator says, looking at me like I’m some kind of idiot. It’s true, I’m only a kid without a class who just got a bump to my skills and levels. What’s the point of telling me? “I imagine that’s useful for you to know when you make your choice. Amplification is the same thing, though it boosts the strength warriors have in their body.” Oh, hey, I already have that. “It lets them do more damage. The limit is the same: ten times or Level 1000 for the skill. Accuracy for archers heightens their senses, slows time, and lets them shoot more accurately and do more damage.”

“What about the attributes? What’s the point?”

“You have to pay for everything. Amplification for warriors costs strength, and then health once your strength is gone. When mages run out of mana, they use their life force. It’s the same for archers. Basically, it’s an advanced way of using your physical and mental bodies, at least, the way they interact. Your body is a single whole. If you don’t have any strength left, it starts tearing itself apart to give you the energy you need. That makes sense. Just remember that Hunters feel twenty percent of the pain and suffering when they start to use their health instead of their strength.”

“Thanks for the explanation. Can I become a Hunter without having a class?”

“Sure. But, I’ll tell you this right now, young lady, it probably won’t happen. This year, the trial is going to be much harder than in other years.” A buzz breaks out around me. “It has nothing to do with how many of you there are; we’re in the middle of an undead invasion, and we’re going to help fight them off. Everyone who passes the trial and survives to the end will be accepted into the ranks of the Hunters.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, what is the League of Hunters?”

“You’ll find that out if you pass the trial, young lady.”

A portal opens behind the administrator, the players get up and start moving toward it, and the administrator continues.

“Everyone who’s here has the right to join the first trial. You’ll be split into four groups and sent to different parts of the continent, where your job will be to battle the undead for twenty-four hours. Anyone who survives will be given access to the second part. If you do die, you’ll get an invitation to go through the trial again next year.”

And they think I would turn down an opportunity like that?

***

Urius stepped into the room where the twelve trial judges were sitting. They appeared completely normal at first glance, but it’s hard to imagine how much destructive power there really was in one place. The strongest Hunters on the continent had gathered to complete a major order from the league.

The role of administrator was being handled by Urius, while the rest were in charge of organizing the trial, checking the participants, splitting them into groups, and balancing strength.

“Well, how are our little hunters? Anyone interesting?”

The girl in the fire mage costume was busy looking over the messages she’d received when she stepped through the portal. The players didn’t know it, but the portal collected detailed information about them before splitting them into even groups.

“I see twenty potential candidates this year. It’s a varied group, all of whom have been very successful thanks to their specialties. Oh, and we have two geniuses, a boy and a girl. The boy is evil incarnate.”

“You’re hard to surprise. What did he do?”

“Rank fourteen titan-killer, already has an amplification skill and eleven streams of consciousness. He could be an apprentice in any of fourteen magic schools even now. When we heard about a monster like that getting an invitation to the trial, we tried to scare him into stopping but he sniffed us out and threatened to kill us if we displayed any aggression. Just imagine, a kid who can’t even level up yet.”

“He scared you and you let him through?”

“He knew exactly where we were and how many of us there were, and his perception is a good two or three times lower than our invisibility. We’re Hunters, only alive because we’ve learned to trust our intuition, however silly that sounds. None of us wanted to take a step closer to him. You could feel a buzz and vibration in the magic space around him, the kind of thing you get with powerful spells.”

Urius covered his fist with a palm. He’d accepted half the people in the room into the ranks of Hunters, and what should have been just another trial was turning south.

“What does he look like? If he beats the first trial, send him on a suicide mission in the second. The world isn’t ready for monsters like that yet.”

“Oh, that’s the funniest part! He’s dressed up like a girl with long, golden hair.”

Urius doubled over laughing.

“Ooph-ph,” he continued when the laughter died away into a simple smile. “He’s only here because he thought he could pick up a hidden class, didn’t know anything about the hunters or our skills.”

“Do you think he’ll back out?”

“No, people like that don’t back out. He can get levels now, too. If not this year, he’ll be a Hunter next year. Okay, and who’s our second genius?”

“A girl. She was here last year, though she failed the first trial. You should remember her. She was in black plate armor and used a longsword. She used it like a swordsman.”

“Oh, right.” Urius laughed loudly, his whole expression betraying how excited he was to see the show. “Life is fun when there are kids around like that. Anybody else?”

“There are two…professional killers, from what I can tell. They made us, too, though they didn’t ask anything openly.”

“Too?”

“The genius boy noticed us after about ten seconds just by looking around. The professionals made sure we were vulnerable to lethal force. We quickly switched that around, parting ways with pleasant smiles.”

“Ooph, it’s like the world is reacting to people like that. What about distribution? Did they all get dropped into different groups?”

“No, I stuck them all in the same one. Their group is a little smaller than the other three, and their chances of surviving are a lot lower. I figured you’d want to get rid of the problem candidate.”

“Nice work! But did you think about what might happen if they join forces?”

“No, they’re all loners. They have to fight alone, and they might even kill each other.”

“Phew, boy,” Urius replied, rolling his eyes at the people he had to deal with. “It’s constant battle out there, and they’ll figure out that they have to work together if they want to survive. Okay. They still have a chance. All right, let’s move out. Your job is to keep tabs on the trial. If anything out of the ordinary happens, let me know.”

Everybody got up and walked toward the portal. They had twenty-four hours of observation ahead of them.

***

The Black Rose was building up their city defenses in case the undead attacked. The clan’s main castle was in Congul, and that’s where the main wave hit them. There were only three alliances in the world who could stand up to the undead. Regardless of the 170-level difference, their warriors’ skills and continuous training paid off, and the clan officers, who Bernard had been working with for two years, were spectacular. Bernard had what the young gods didn’t: combat experience at a global level. His clan, however, was a drop in the ocean fighting the undead invasion, so their job was to harry the opponents in the rear, probe their strength in different areas, plan movement routes, establish escape paths, and find safe areas to collect resources.

An officer was reading a report.

“We decided to see how the undead would react to having their forces methodically slaughtered in one area. As soon as we liquidated all the usual undead, chimeras started appearing, with superior chimeric undead showing up when they started running out. Bernard, it looks to me like the undead are using bots to make chimeras, though their chimerologists only get to work when the rest of their forces have been cut down.”

“Makes sense. Necromancers, no matter who they are, can control a specific number of undead. The stronger the undead are, the harder they are to control. Undead respond to strength with strength; the harder we push them, the harder they push back. Of course, we could take out their front-line troops to get to the ones higher up and cut down on their numbers, but who’s to say that the necromancers won’t lose control of the situation? The monsters could rush the cities. We still haven’t seen bone dragons, great hounds of death, or mountains of death, and they’d take us out the minute we matched up against them. For now, we need to be leveling up and working on our skills so that we can be the vanguard in the deciding battle. If you can’t wait, take a few squads to a location far from the cities and cut up some undead. You’ll see something show up there if I’m right, and it won’t be the little junk that are running around now.”

“That’s worth a try. We can see how fast the chimeras and undead are created, and that would tell us both how many necromancers there are there and how strong they are.”

Bernard had already realized who the enemy was, and that knowledge was weighing on him. Standing up to the joint forces and undead army of the old small pantheon… Years would pass before people would stand together against their common foe.

Interesting times were ahead if the job at hand was to kill gods who had already left for the darkness…

***

I’m taken to a hill with steep approaches and a small, level plateau at the top. At the peak, there’s a view of the dwarf mountains and a plain, which means that we were sent north of Zirda to the mountains bordering the human lands.

How did they decide who would go with which group? There are around forty people nearby, though a good four hundred went into the portal. Where’s the equality? Although, the size of the groups could depend on their strength or the number of opponents.

Besides the plain, we can see the hills, clefts, and groves of trees scattered all around.

Three trial officers show up.

“You’re the fourth group. Your job is to get down from the mountain and kill undead for twenty-four hours, at the end of which, you’ll need to get back here. We’ll be watching how you do. You can kill each other, join forces, and use everything you and the rest of the group have at your disposal. What you cannot do is hide, though tactical withdrawals to gather your strength and eat are permitted. Remember, we’re watching. In fifteen minutes, a timer will start, so accept the invitation to the raid group and head down off the mountain.

It’s the first time in my life I’d been invited to join a group. A feel a nervous trembling in anticipation of the battle… Levels! I can level up!

“Your experience is unique to you, as are the things you get from the opponents you kill. The raid group is just a formality that won’t keep you from grouping up with each other—it just lets us know who’s died and where you all are on the map. You don’t have access to the raid participant panel. Okay, get out of here.”

Finally, finally, finally, it’s time for levels!

I take strengthened leaps down the side of the hill, healing myself continuously as I go. There are lots of little ledges and overhands that are simpler to jump off than crawl down.

Lots of other people get down the same way. I’m not the only nimble one.

As soon as I get down to the bottom, I stop to think about what my tactical advantage will be. The ravines are a possibility, though I assume the other players will pick them as easily defensible positions. That leaves the plains, the forests, and the small hills.

It’s crazy, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. I use everything I can to win absolute superiority in a situation with a stronger opponent.

I dash off as fast as I can toward a forest right near the base of the mountains. It’s the one farthest from the ravines, meaning that I won’t have to worry about getting stabbed in the back.

Zigzagging, I shoot fireballs at the undead around me.

Tattoo: Fireball spell seal

Effect: Lets you use a fireball spell. The damage the spell does depends on your intellect and Fire Magic spells, and you take 5% of the damage the spell does in fire damage.

Mana cost:

100

Tattoo effect:

Intellect +1%

Wisdom +1%

Morale +1%

Additional effect from the ink:

+610 mana, spell not destroyed when used

It’s a cool trick I can use to one-shot the undead. I end up combining ten streams of consciousness for each fireball, shooting six or seven of them off a minute. The undead have a hard time with fire damage, and there’s even physical damage thrown in from the effect of the explosion.

Level 1 unlocked

Available for distribution: 5 attribute points

...

Level 27 unlocked

Available for distribution: 135 attribute points

I would be excited, but I don’t have time for that. There isn’t a second of downtime. I have to keep moving to make sure I don’t get caught in a trap or take a hit from one of the ghouls, zombies, or skeletons. The entire plain is teeming with all kinds of undead that can’t wait to see how I taste. Where are the normal bots? There aren’t any!

The farther I go, the more of my opponents there are. There are so many of them by the mountains, in fact, that I have to run around them. However, they quickly catch on and start cutting me off. My advantage is my speed; the undead have their numbers. My brain kicks into overdrive. There are too many of them, but if I can run along those stones… Barrow-wights are incredibly fast and agile when they’re created, though they don’t have much health. They’re the only ones who can chase me down. The only problem is that I can’t keep track of everything at once.

As soon as I start leaping across the stones, leaving the undead to wander around below me, I sense that something’s flying at me. Without looking, I shoot a fireball at it. Flesh terrors are shooting Barrow-wights at me! What’s going on?! I have no idea how the undead could have that kind of intellect, creating a trap and waiting for bottlenecks to use their flesh terrors and Barrow-wights to their best advantage. It’s just a good thing they don’t have any archers. Why are there even chimeric undead here? What about the normal zombies and skeletons?

I can’t kill all of them at once, so I just have to shoot down everything coming at me. There are too many.

Undead, Barrow-wight, Level 513

How am I supposed to bring something like that down in one shot? The problem is only compounded by the number of enemies all around me.

The undead don’t follow me into the forest, which I’m really happy to see. I need to take some time to calm down.

“What kind of idiot are you? They have advanced intellect, and you went running right into the thick of them!”

Well, this is interesting. I just got to the forest, and there’s already someone here. Oh, it’s a girl! She’s maybe two years older than me.

“I guess I forgot to ask what you think… And what are you doing here? Everyone else is in the ravines.”

“Of course, they are. Last year, I got taken out right at the end. The more participants there are left after the first trial, the harder the second one is, so I headed for the forest. The tactical advantage is on my side here.”

Oh, aren’t we smart! After what happened with Rachel, I keep a closer eye on girls. She’s talking too smart for a kid, and she isn’t behaving anywhere near the way I’d expect her to.

The girl is dressed in matte-black armor with a variety of different components. I’ve never seen such fine work; it has to be the work of a master or grand master blacksmith. Really, it’s too perfect for normal armor. The symmetry is flawless, the plates shift as she moves, and it all works well with the chainmail underneath. Could it be a set? It’s pretty clear what she’s going for: semi-passive protection to match her completely attacking style. She doesn’t have a shield, just a longsword that looks like an enormous, two-handed Flammenschwert in her hands.

“What do you need?”

“A group.”

You received a group invitation.

Accept: Yes/No

She’s a slippery piece of work, that girl. Not on your life! I don’t need a girl around.

“No, thanks.”

You declined a group invitation.

The girl looked at me and thought to herself before replying.

“But you’ll die alone.”

“I’m used to being on my own. You’ll just get in my way, and I’ll kill you without even noticing.”

“Oh, you think you’re that strong, little boy?”

Certainly shouldn’t have said that. A double dwarf hammer squishes her into the ground.

“If you come any closer than thirty meters, I’ll kill you.”

I couldn’t care less what she wants, and I’ll kill anyone who tries to get in my way. For now, I need to get to work on something that’s been bothering me for a while.

Available for distribution: 155 attribute points

I was able to get all the way to Level 31 on my mad dash to the forest, but I don’t have much time. I need to figure everything out and then jump back into the battle. The administrator told me that Hunters lose their wisdom attribute, with its value added to stamina. My health and mana will combine, part of the result being health and part of it being mana. I don’t really have a good idea of how everything will work, but I need a boost for my fighting and that means intellect.

Wait a second, what’s bothering me? Yup. The girl called me a “little boy.” Even she guessed! As soon as I open my mouth, everyone realizes I’m a boy. And that administrator… “Little miss.” He probably knew, too, he just didn’t say anything. Ah, screw them all. I’m happy as long as they leave me alone. It’s time for battle.

“Attribute window.”

Name: Sagie

Level: 31

Experience: 30771/53400 (22629 left until the next level)

Race: Human

Class: None selected

Basic attributes

Strength: 103

Agility: 146

Stamina: 156

Intellect: 522

Wisdom: 719

Available attribute points: 0

Additional attributes

Speed: 225

Athleticism: 139

Morale: 342

Survivability: 217

Derivative ratings

Physical damage: 51 (strength/2, but no less than 1)

Carrying capacity: 250 kg (strength*10/4)

Mana: 20360 (wisdom*10)

Health: 1560 (stamina*10)

Strength: 1560 (stamina*10)

Health restoration: 2170/minute (survivability*10)

Mana restoration: 3420/minute (morale*10)

Strength restoration: 1390/minute (athleticism*10)

Running speed: 83 km/h (1+speed/10)

Defense: 55

Resistance

Physical damage: 15.27% (damage ignored: up to 81422/second)

Poison: 12.60% (damage ignored: up to 47368/second)

Fire: 35.62% (damage ignored: up to 1177204/second)

Electricity: 18.35% (damage ignored: up to 292021/second)

Mental damage: 35.52% (damage ignored: up to 1155597/second)

Skills

Cooking: 250

Trap setting and disarming: 19

Archery: 250

Swimming: 250

Breath-holding: 250

Stealth: 250

Life Magic: 250

Mind Magic: 250

Space Magic: 250

Earth Magic: 250

Water Magic: 250

Fire Magic: 253

Air Magic: 250

Light Magic: 250

Dark Magic: 250

Meditation: 250

Hand-to-hand combat: 92

Perception: 172

Necromancy: 250

Blood Magic: 250

Chimerology: 250

Ritual magic: 250

Artifact creation: 250

Poison-making: 25

Ointment-making: 25

Metal reinforcing: 25

Wood reinforcing: 25

Body enhancement: 26

Professions

Herbalist: 250

Fisherman: 250

Tailor: 250

Blacksmith: 250

Carpenter: 250

Miner: 25

Abilities

Imp eye

Undecuple consciousness

One of our own

Shroud of darkness

Gifts

Meeting deferred

Yes, yes, yes, get me that sweet experience! Hm, is it time to celebrate? Yeah-h-h!

“Meteor!”

Damage received: 711200 (ignored: 1177204)

1560/1560

Yes, yes, I’m crazy! Screw their advanced intellect! I’ll kill you all. Give me that experience.

Level 42 unlocked

Available for distribution: 55 attribute points

I direct the meteor at the clump of undead that had been trying to catch me. It’s not my fault. They started it! I laugh evilly.

My insanity recommends finding a quiet place to meditate and start shooting meteors at the undead. I can’t help but agree.

But I’m not the only smart one around. The undead quickly figure out who their most dangerous foe is and collapse toward me.

“Little idiot! You could at least move around so it’s harder to find you. Don’t sit still!”

The girl’s got some nerve. She’s staying exactly thirty meters away from me, but not leaving. Hm, could I use that? I decide against it, since the risk is too large. I’m fine on my own.

“Thanks for the advice. I think I will head out.”

“Maybe, we should group up?”

“You’re weak if you want to be in a group. And I don’t need weaklings on my team.”

“What makes you think that?”

“This is the second time you’re offering. What else could it mean?”

Oddly enough, I underestimated her. At least, I jumped to conclusions. She can run just as fast as I can, and her armor shines a light red color. Really?

“We’re on the outskirts of the location. The chances of surviving alone are much lower than in a pair or group. I saw you use a meteor! But how? I didn’t see a scroll, and you don’t use a staff either.”

“That’s no business of yours…blood knight!”

The girl appears nonplussed and starts falling back.

“What makes you think I’m a blood knight?”

“Your armor, your speed, the way you glow.”

“Oh! So, you’ve fought some knights and decided that I’m one of them?”

“Nope.” I fire off two fireballs, each with five streams, and two bodies are sent tumbling to the side. In four minutes, I’ll be able to launch my next meteor. “I just picked up on it from your armor.”

“You forget that kids can’t select a class. How could I use blood knight armor and skills if I’m still a kid?”

“I didn’t say anything about skills. But hey, I launched a meteor, I’m not a mage, and I don’t have a scroll. I’m sure you’re wearing blood knight armor.”

“Why?” She cut the distance to thirty meters again, her armor shining brighter than ever.

“Because you’re still keeping up with me, and your armor is taking more and more blood. Soon, you’re going to reach the limit and need someone else’s blood. There aren’t any other living creatures around besides me, and I’ll tell you this much: you won’t be able to catch me. I’ll squash you or turn you to ash. I have a lot of tricks up my sleeve.”

We run through a grove and up a hill, still keeping the same distance between us. Ah, there’s my mana! I send a meteor crashing down on the grove without even looking. The earth shakes, there’s a deafening roar of wind, and the shock wave sends me flying.

Level 45 unlocked

Available for distribution: 70 attribute points

It was a fine hit, only I didn’t think about the consequences. The target was so close that the shock wave hit me. As I tumbled to the ground, the girl leaped over and brought her weapon crashing down on my defenseless throat… She stopped at the last moment.

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it already. Now do you believe me?” How can you not believe a sword at your throat? You have to be really strong to stop a sword flying through the air at that speed, and she pulled it off easily.

“Almost… But your armor is bright red, and I don’t know what you’re looking for. Until I know that, I’m not going to join you.”

The girl pulls the sword away from my throat and relaxes her stance, sinking the tip of the blade into the ground and resting her arms on the guard. It’s relatively quiet around us.

“The armor is a family heirloom that lets me use blood knight amplification, though it feeds on my blood. I wasn’t able to use it fully until the last Hunter trial. Thanks to a mutation that boosts my survivability, I can recover my health completely in two minutes. I have family skills for longswords. I was born into a family of swordsmen. Everything clear now?”

“Oh, god, this is the first time I’ve seen anyone put so much money into the game. How much would you have to spend to get such a natural swordsman? It’s probably scalable and set, too.”

“Yes and yes. Quite a bit. But I thought it was the same for you? Although, judging by your reaction, you haven’t spent any money on yourself.” A flash of intrigue flits across the girl’s face.

“First, we need to run. The undead are on their way here. The trees are quivering. Second, I didn’t promise to tell you anything. And third, that still doesn’t explain why you want to fight with me.”

We dash off toward a plateau butted up against the grove. I notice a ledge we can sit and talk on, so I run in that direction. The girl follows me.

“That’s fascinating. You thought about three things at once, and in full detail. Are you sure you’re a kid?”

“Look who’s asking, a non-blood knight!”

“Fine, screw it, you don’t have to say anything about yourself.”

The girl takes a pause, which is fine with me. Like I’m going to bite on that.

“Are you going to keep trying to manipulate me or should I just kill you know?”

“Okay, I get it, you aren’t going to tell me anything. As far as why I want to work together, you can do big damage but you need protection. See for yourself, another attack or two, and the undead are really going to come after you.”

“And your suggestion?”

“Working as a team. You kill as many as you can, and I cover the approaches and pick where we’re going to go next. For now, take your shot. They’re going to figure out where we are soon.”

I look at the hill where we last stopped and see that it’s crawling with undead. It’s the kind of moment I need to maximize.

“Group.”

The girl accepts my indication.

Femida, Level 279

Damn, how much do you have to play to pick up so many levels in a single year? She’s obviously a big spender who spends all her time in Project Chrysalis. Brutal…and she’s a girl? What about all the makeup, parties, and movies? She’s wasting her childhood, the idiot. Of course, the only reason I’m playing is because my whole life is here. What are you spending so much for?

Meteor! I drop down into meditation, with two minutes until my next shot and taking off running. I make sure I always have 10000 mana in reserve.

“Your job is to protect me while I’m meditating. I need a lot of mana. Each meteor takes 10000 mana, so I can launch one every two minutes.”

“Hey, wait a minute, you have 500 morale?” Fem looks at me nervously.

“I’m not telling you.” Why mention that I can use meditation to pick up 8500 mana per minute? It takes me two and a half to get what I need to launch a double meteor.

Every new level gives me attribute points, and I spend them all on intellect. I’m going to be an undead death machine! Find me meat!

“Fem?”

“Yes?”

“What’s your resistance to fire?”

“About 70000. I worked on it all year.”

“That’s not enough to be in fire.”

“What do you mean, not enough? And why are you asking? Wait, can you fuse with fire?”

“I wanted to burn down the forest and all the undead in it, preferably with us here, too. That would let us attract more of them to kill or injure.”

“You’re crazy! Why do you have to burn the forest down? Just use your meteors.”

I’m so happy to have my scalable things. With each five levels, the bonuses they give me are bumped up by one. It’s up to +10 now, making me a monster. My tattoos boost my intellect, wisdom, and morale by twenty-nine percent. The farther I go, the stronger I get.

“Hahaha.”

“What are you laughing about? It’s time to run.”

“I was just laughing at how strong I’m going to be by the time evening rolls around.”

“What happens then?”

“Levels, lots of levels. We’re killing undead three hundred levels stronger than us, so there’s tons of experience to be had.”

“Oh, come on, this isn’t the first time,” the girl replies with a shrug.

“What do you mean? Do you have the titanbane achievement?”

“Yep.”

“Although…yeah, it wouldn’t be that hard with armor like yours.” She could triple-strengthen herself and kill everything alive in less than a minute, and then die from her blood-sucking armor.

“And how did you do it? You’re launching meteors at level one.”

“I had to be smart and really want it. There wasn’t much of a choice.”

We run through the tormented forest, having battered it with a dozen meteorite strikes. An entire army is starting to gather on the outskirts.

Femida is a genius! That’s the only way I can describe how good she is with her sword and armor. It isn’t even about leveled up skills; she just knows how to use them. Something more to do with efficiency than experience. It doesn’t take her more than a second to activate her armor.

“It looks like you’ve practiced quite a bit. Your sword work is impressive!”

“It’s nothing. If you only knew how good my brothers are, you’d get what I mean. I just haven’t had the chance to fight really experienced opponents. Nobody pushes me to the edge of my knowledge and experience.”

“What about our swordsmen? I mean, master swordsmen.”

“That’s a class - not the art of wielding a sword. They’re weak when it comes to fighting enemies who have real combat experience sword-fighting or fighting in another style. Almost none of them are real swordsmen. Hey, a good fighter can spot an inexperienced master.”

“That’s pretty brutal. I can’t even imagine what someone better than you would look like.”

“Sure, because you don’t have the experience. All you have is raw power to kill, but not the ability to use it.”

“Thanks for the compliment.”

“I’m just being objective. You don’t have enough experience.”

“Such wisdom coming from a little girl.”

We take another short break, and I wait and think this time. The undead are preparing a powerful counteroffensive and gathering their forces to clear the forest. From what I can tell, their advanced intellect will have them raid the forest to take our advantage away.

“Sagie, we need to leave or find a way to destroy that army. They’re going to overpower us with their numbers.”

“Sure, but where can we go? Do you think they won’t have more waiting for us elsewhere? We can’t leave the location. There is something I can do, but I’ll need sacrifices.”

Fem looks at me leerily and expectantly before finally replying.

“Screw you. What do you need from me?”

“Flesh terrors, five of them. And I’ll need five minutes to prepare for the ritual.”

“The ritual?”

“Go, go, there isn’t much time. Come back in ten minutes. I’ll paralyze them myself, so just get them here.”

The last meteors boosted my level to the point where I can use powerful spells without worrying about the consequences. My scalable items are pushing my intellect to the point where a meteor just about killed me with the recoil. I need to switch to defense, build a base I can use to take out everything around. And for that I need victims.

Femida brings me seven flesh terrors, and that works for me - the more, the merrier. Surprisingly, they’re immune to poison. They have weak mental resistance, however, and rune spikes do a good job holding them in place. Apparently, the necromancer dropped their mental resistance to make them easier to manage, a smart move until they come up against someone who can take control of them. The fact that they’re in complete control of the field of battle means they don’t have to worry about something like that happening right now, but it’s a vulnerability that could be used against them in the forest. Unfortunately, I don’t have any spells that might let me control an undead army. All I can do is control one chimera or undead. There are certain ways around the restriction, but I have other things to worry about right now.

There are lots of different spells that can be used to do damage across a wide area. The most well-known and universal are meteors, fire storms, tornados, chain lightning, death whirlpool, and death star. Oddly enough, I have seals for all of them on my chest.

“Sagie, hurry, they’re getting close. We won’t be able to leave once they get here.”

I hand her two stakes.

“Stick these in yourself. They’ll combine our health with the sacrifices, and I’ll be able to heal you from within about a hundred meters away if anything happens.”

Too busy to keep track of her, I get to work on what I have cooked up. A fire storm crashes into the forest right where the undead are. A second later, another slams home not far from where we are, the heat bathing us. I’m going to burn this forest down and everything inside it!

From my meditation pose on the ground, I notice that Fem’s armor is changing. It’s pulsing with red veins.

“What’s going on? Do you never turn your armor off? We’re going to die because of that blood-sucker!”

“No, your ritual bumped it up to forty percent. I have quadruple amplification now.”

“Hm, that makes sense. The ritual was designed for blood knights, though that’s not how I use it. We have a little more than four million. It needs ten million health to max out.”

“Looks like it.”

“Is that an ordinary sword?”

“No, rare. I got it from a boss in a dungeon.”

“I mean, it isn’t the kind blood knights use. If you were going to spend that much money, why not go the whole way?”

“I could only take one thing. Between the family armor and sword, I picked the former, and haven’t regretted that choice for a second. I couldn’t put in any more money after I created my character.” Fem looks down at her feet sadly.

“That’s your business. I was just asking.”

We stay there until evening, killing any undead that gets close. First, there are skeletons and ghouls, zombies and animals raised from the dead. They’re followed by chimeric undead like flesh terrors, Barrow-wights, spider-like creatures, and other forms of nastiness. The finale is two groups of bone hounds that just about take us out.

The huge chimeric dogs are twice the size of a grown man at the withers and move in packs. Two groups, ten in each, circle around to either side of the forest.

Undead, Lesser Hound of Death, Level 577, local boss

The problem arises when three of the dogs leap out of the forest right onto our plateau. I immediately squish two of them with dwarf hammers; Fem takes out the third. I wouldn’t have been able to do anything since the creature was already on top of the seal. I didn’t want to kill the victims before I had to or find myself hit with the blow, so Fem’s assistance came just in time. She used quadruple amplification to take out the third dog in less than a minute.

“Sagie, it’s getting pretty bad around here. We were dealing with the little stuff before, but there are local bosses now. The undead are switching up their tactics, too, so it’s time to go.”

“I know.”

Two more dogs run up, this time from the second pack. How much health must they have to survive a meteor strike on a burning forest? I have no mana left after my last attack. The undead are wearing us down.

The first problem is that it starts to rain, washing away the seal. The second is that our misgivings were right on the money.

Order End of an Era now on Amazon.

Project Chrysalis:

Book 1: Gestation (find it on Amazon)

Book 2: End of an Era (find it on Amazon)

Book 3: Sleeping Player (find it on Amazon)

Book 4: Limitless (find it on Amazon)

About John Gold

My childhood can be simply described in one word: rebellious. Instead of listening to my mom and dad about getting exercise and some fresh air, I stayed inside doing the most rebellious thing I could think of to exasperate my parents: read.

I called it expanding my horizons.

My parents called it being lazy.

At 22, I went through a pre-midlife crisis. I was finding out my place in the world, trying different jobs and directions for life. Restaurants, websites, freelance, ghostwriting -- everything I did, I gave it my all. Life was like a game to me: you earn resources and gold and spend them on armor and equipment.

At the end of 2013, I read my first LitRPG book. I read all of the stories from the first LitRPG wave in Russia. It was a revelation! The two things I liked the most, internet gaming and books, were now seamlessly combined to produce heroic stories. I was full of emotions and energy and purely inspired. I had so many things to say and write that eventually I put pen to paper. The story just wrote itself: a world of mystery, elaborate plot twists, and devious characters. No free hugs, no super luck, no powers and definitely no magic for free. That was the book I ended up writing.

If I'm being totally honest, sometimes I cried when I wrote the traumatizing and dramatic life experiences of Anji. I was with him, side by side, and I felt his pain as if it was my own. And I wanted to share our story with the world.

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This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities between characters, locations, places or people is coincidental.