Chapter 8

Adrian woke up with a growling stomach.

He felt parched and groggy. The memories of the previous day played back in his mind as he shifted out of the bed, finding the floor with his boots still on.

He winced at the pain in his side, the hilt of the sword still sheathed and connected to his belt must have dug into him during the night.

Doesn’t matter, he thought, rather choosing to be armed in bed than unarmed when something woke him up.

“Fuck you,” he said to the general state of his circumstances.

He got up and grabbed the shield, fastening the thing onto his arm before he pulled the chest of drawers away from the door with a few grunts.

The next two hours were spent with cooking water, eating the remaining sweets, and trying to read some of the journal he had found, comparing symbols to the card game in the process.

It was a pretty hopeless process but he didn’t really care. Anything other than fighting seemed like a downright vacation to Adrian right now.

He didn’t even train with his crossbow, not wanting to risk losing any more bolts. He just hoped the one he used downstairs was still intact.

He cleaned himself and his sword, still hungry but feeling a little better than when he had gotten up.

Didn’t dream tonight, he noted.

It really had been a good day. If one discounted the soldier that had nearly killed him. Somehow he felt those kinds of experiences would become increasingly common in the near future.

Right now however, he was groggy, pissed off and geared up. His normal state of being after being thrown into a mysterious castle with nothing but a few sweets to eat in several days.

Sword in hand, he stabbed and slashed at the trees on the terrace. He had to get more used to the weight, to the sensation of hitting things with the blade. He tried to use his shield too, testing its strength with increasingly hard hits against the wood. It held up.

The sweets had hardly made a difference. Just a few hits made him nearly tire out but he focused on the task nonetheless.

When he felt like he couldn’t delay any further, Adrian donned his helmet. It plopped into place and he somehow immediately felt a little better.

Vitality.

He sighed at the lack of more stats on his gear and sheathed his sword. He loaded the crossbow with quick and smooth motions before he looked at the stairs leading down.

The corpses had remained but he lacked the strength to clean up right now, nor was he in the mood to do so.

Instead he stepped over them, slamming his sword into their heads one more time just to make sure. He wouldn’t die to a monster playing dead.

When he was sure the creatures were no more, he grabbed his crossbow and stepped out into the hall.

The sunlight was faint now but he still made out several moving servants.

He had been lucky that so few of them had heard him yesterday.

At the end of the hall stood a single armored undead. Just a soldier luckily.

Not moving at all, he thought, squinting his eyes to see the thing in the slightly sour smelling dark hall.

The rest were all servants.

Ten… no, eleven. And twelve, he counted, seeing another one emerge out from an open door to the left. The woman stumbled and fell face first to the floor. She moaned and scrambled up again.

I’m doing them a favor, really, he thought and aimed at the nearest one. Adrian didn’t particularly fear them anymore. They could swarm him but he had a sword and shield now, and most importantly, a tight stairwell with several obstacles in the way.

He was pretty sure the design itself was intended to prevent enemy numbers to overwhelm the defenders and he would damn sure make good use of that.

Also why there was only one guard at the top of the stairs.

It really should have been difficult to aim for a head. Adrian knew that shooting the center of mass was the way to go but many of the servants regularly just stood still or even just lay on the floor mostly not moving.

With the very close distance, he managed to pull it off. The few bolts he owned had to count after all.

He breathed out and prepared himself for what was to come. The force was released and the string shot forward, bringing with it the steel tipped bolt.

The undead turned and fell, the bolt piercing through its nose and out on the other side.

Adrian watched how everything unfolded, slowly stepping back towards the stairs behind him. He held on to the crossbow for now but was ready to let go of it in favor of his sword at any moment.

Three or four monsters had noticed the noise, walking closer to the downed creature before they continued onward towards him.

None had actually spotted him yet.

How the fuck was I nearly overwhelmed by a single one of these creatures before?

He felt almost embarrassed but focused on his task. It didn’t matter anymore. Experience always made a massive difference in whatever task he had gone out to accomplish. It was no surprised that fighting monsters was similar in that vein. It also made him vary to become overconfident, lest he made a mistake that cost him his life.

This time he made sure not to rush up the stairs, instead he carefully avoided the corpses and chair, making as little noise as possible.

Adrian waited with his sword and shield ready.

Five minutes passed and then ten.

Nothing came after him.

When he arrived back in the hall, the few undead that had heard him stood a little closer to he entrance.

Adrian aimed at the closest one, shot, and missed.

“Fuck,” he whispered.

This time one of them noticed him.

He ran up, stumbling on the chair himself this time and hitting his knee on the stone stairs. A piece of the crossbow nearly stabbed into his eye. Adrenaline kept him moving and he limped up the rest of the way before he waited again.

The pain in his knee, face, and hands started to throb when the first undead showed up. It didn’t matter anymore. They all fell to his blade in the coming minutes.

His knee was bruised but it mostly just hurt.

Adrian ground his teeth and put the last bolt into his crossbow. The only injuries he sustained this time were his own fault. Truly a testament to his ability.

He wondered if he would’ve just straight up died if he didn’t have bonuses to his Skill.

The morbid thought amused him as he stepped back down again, the corpses by now downright littering the tight stairwell.

He was just glad they inconvenienced the creatures more than they did himself. At least if he wasn’t being an uncoordinated dumbass.

After a quick deliberation, he decided to keep the last crossbow bolt for the soldier. If he could injure or kill that thing before it even reached him, he could avoid a potentially deadly fight.

Instead he stepped to the left hand wall, moving as quietly as he could. Into the rooms?

No… if I get swarmed in there I might just be dead.

He gripped his sword with both hands and briskly walked to the closest undead. A single powerful stab cut through the creature’s neck before it could react.

Adrian took a step back and watched as three of the servants stumbled towards him. They had heard and seen him, making him immediately rush to the stairs.

He missed a few times in the coming scuffle but successfully took down the three monsters with only a few slight scratches to his gear. It almost felt too easy.

Only three servants remained in the hall when he stepped back out. His crossbow was still loaded and on the floor to his left. He quickly checked the first servant he shot and found the bolt intact.

He ripped the bolt out of the man’s head, the wet sound coupled with the sight and smell nearly making him puke. Not that there would be a lot to puke up.

Adrian sneaked up to the closest remaining undead when his stomach suddenly grumbled, making all four of them immediately notice him.

Fucking shit.

He ran back, grabbed his crossbow and turned around, aiming for the closest undead before he shot. The bolt slammed into the woman’s chest, pushing her back but he already rushed for the stairs.

Adrian was careful not to trip, his sword held backwards just in case he fucked up again. He didn’t.

He felt his heart beating when he arrived, each heavy breath a reminder of his lacking stamina.

The fear of pain and death kept him focused, his body pushing itself to the very limits he never cared to increase.

His eyes opened wide when he saw the first undead to reach him being the soldier. The man had somehow overtaken the others, clumsily stepping over the bodies but remaining focused on Adrian.

The soldier carried his sword in one hand.

Adrian raised his shield, waiting with his own strike as he focused entirely on the undead’s weapon.

He blocked the sloppy thrust with his wooden shield, ignoring the noise as it scraped past as he thrust his own weapon into the undead’s stomach from below.

The blade failed to penetrate through the leather armor, glancing off to the side as he focused to keep steady.

He instead used his shield to slam away the monster’s right arm and with it the sword. With the broad area of his shield, he managed to disarm the soldier. Once again, he aimed and thrust, his weapon slashing right into the creature’s neck. He slammed it with his shield one more time, both pushing the undead back into the servants stuck behind it and ripping out the blade from its neck.

The thing was still alive but apparently not intelligent enough to look for and get its weapon back. Instead it simply rushed at Adrian.

He steadied himself and pushed against it with his shield. The undead tried to wrestle him instead of just going for scratching.

Adrian just pushed, trying to free his arm and aim for the monster’s face.

It snarled as the blade moved closer, its hand now holding his blade as it cut into its rotten flesh.

Adrian slowly pushed the weapon forward, ignoring the frantic movements of the soldier as the steel bit into its face, moving deeper by the second until it hit bone. He pushed on as the weapon scraped against the skull, cutting sideways, unable to penetrate the bone without an initial push.

It still had an effect, dark blood seeping down as the soldier’s grip weakened.

He ripped the blade out and stabbed it forward, this time punching through the head with a wet crunch.

The undead slumped down as Adrian took a step back. He managed to retreat into the guard room and closed the door behind him, standing with his back to the wood as his breathing quickened.

He heard the undead in the stairwell scramble up behind the downed soldier, struggling up the way until they reached the door. Instead of pushing against it, they scratched and punched the wood with frantic movements, their already limited weight used in an entirely inefficient manner.

Adrian thought his chest would explode at any moment. His vision darkened as he felt tears roll down his cheek. He didn’t have the energy for this. He didn’t have the mind for this. He didn’t have the heart for this.

Get a grip.

He repeated the words in his mind, barely managing to keep the door closed as his sword clattered to the floor.

His breathing slowed again as time went on, his weight and the door both holding the uncoordinated zombies at bay.

He felt his mouth quiver as he slid down on the door and grasped for the blade.

His grip felt weak and uncoordinated.

You’re in over your head.

Give up.

Just let them in.

Die.

A part of him refused.

Slowly he calmed himself with repeated words and a few breathing exercises that had helped before. His eyes remained closed as his hands slowly steadied.

It took all the coordination he had to stand up again without letting the creatures inside. He was still terrified, exhausted, and out of fucking shape. But he was back in control.

Okay Adrian, you killed the soldier. These are just servants. You can do this.

One hand and shoulder remained on the door, the other hand holding his sword.

He opened the door and let them push, just enough for the weapon to slide through the gap.

He stabbed time and time again as he screamed, the undead pushing and trying to get their hands through the gap. All they got for their troubles were cuts on their hands and arms.

Less than a minute later, the movements had stopped. The entrance remained slightly ajar, a lifeless hand stuck between the wooden door and its frame, dark blood dripping from its injured fingers.

Adrian continued to stab for a little while, his arm already numb, his movements slowing down until he barely managed to hold on to the blade.

He turned and pushed his back onto the door, sliding down again as he looked inward.

Soulbound:

Essence – 116

Level – 0 [+]

Vitality – 10 [11]

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [12]

Skill – 8 [15]

Intelligence – 12 [14]

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

It took a few minutes until he felt recovered enough to think about the plus next to his Level.

His whole body was in pain by now. His knee, his wrist, his shoulder, his back, and worst of all his lungs. Every breath felt like a small fire spread in his chest.

Focus.

You did it.

They’re all dead.

Again.

Again you killed them all.

He closed his eyes and just sat there, his mind solely looking at the numbers that seemed to be burnt into his very being.

When his thoughts had reached some kind of normalcy, he tried to change things. He focused on the plus but nothing happened. Instead he focused on Vitality, the stat he wanted to improve as the very first thing. Perhaps even the only thing he would ever try to improve.

If it could help with the pain or with getting injured.

He knew that if this was anywhere remotely close to one of the games he had played, he should be thinking about a build. Intelligence for magic, Strength for heavy weapons.

The pain however was real. Every soldier he faced had the ability to end his life. Perhaps the time he had returned to the white tree had been a fluke, maybe he was still dreaming, or it was a one time chance to survive a little longer in this place, this world, wherever this was.

It felt unfair.

He had fought for several days, had faced monstrous humans while armed with weapons he could barely wield, had killed and survived. All of it had led to no answers. Just to pain and death.

And hunger.

Adrian started crying, aware of his self pity but overwhelmed by his aching body and his wish to go back to the world he belonged in.

He found that it felt good. To let go and cry. His sobs were interrupted by chuckles and soon outright laughter.

Crying had never helped, not really. Now that it actually did something, it made him feel even worse. Maybe it really was just a punishment.

Don’t listen to yourself.

You’re being unfair.

He nodded, calming himself down as he rubbed the tears out of his eyes.

“I’m a fucking mess,” he said to himself, his sight remaining blurry for a while.

He sighed, looking at the sword on the floor before he closed his eyes again.

Ten minutes passed as he just sat there and let his body rest, slowly pulling himself together. He failed a few times but that was okay.

He knew it was. The fight was already over and he had won.

More will come.

And I will take them each at a time.

What helped him this time was the small plus that had appeared in his mind. The small plus that stood for what he had accomplished. The small plus that stood for his continued survival. The pain was still real but this meant perhaps that his struggles could lead to more.

He found that he could increase any single one of his stats by one, using one hundred Essence.

His choice remained the same. Even if he tried to force himself to think of this as just a game, Vitality was never something to dismiss, especially not if his actual life was on the line.

He assumed even the most die hard players would give up their glasscannon builds if they had to actually go through the injuries their characters sustained.

This is worse than fucking Hardcore mode. If Baxter could hear me now.

He managed to confirm the selection and sighed when he looked at the changed information.

Soulbound:

Essence – 16

Level – 1

Vitality – 11 [12]

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [12]

Skill – 8 [15]

Intelligence – 12 [14]

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

He instantly felt a little better, as if he had taken a strong painkiller, drank a few coffees, and slept for a few hours.

The sensation faded as quickly as it had come and Adrian returned to his miserably self with a sigh.

“Fuck this sucks,” he said in a whisper, to no one in particular. He just wanted to go back to bed but his hunger started to become an issue, his body pushing him to find something, anything, to eat.

He got up again, his sword loosely held in his hand before he opened the door.

You’re being stupid.

He walked over the corpses and down the stairs. He didn’t check if any of the undead were still moving, nor did he care for the noise he made. He could only push his body so far.

And every step of the way, there are more of you fucking fucks, he thought as his eyes drifted over the dead he had left behind.

The hall was empty now, at least to a quick glance. He chose a random door on the left and entered a spacious room.

Two undead remained but he just walked up to the first one and slammed his blade through its chest with all the weight and energy he could conjure. It all felt numb by now.

The weapon got stuck as it fell from both the hit and his push. Adrian didn’t mind. He grabbed the next best thing, a heavy pan and swung it in the general direction of the running undead that had remained and seen him.

He hit the side of its head, making it stumble and fall, its arm taking a bunch of plates and pans down with it.

The pan had flown out of his hand but there were more.

Adrian just grabbed another, heavier pan and walked to the monster. It moved to stand up when the large cast iron pan came crashing down on its rotting skull. The thing exploded in a mush of blood and bone.

He didn’t let up, walking to the still slightly moving undead with a blade stuck in its belly.

He grabbed the weapon and ripped it out, stabbing down a few more times just to make sure.

“Fuck this place,” he said and threw the blade onto one of the many counters. He opened cabinets at random and quickly found something that seemed edible. Nuts. Dried berries and nuts.

Actual real nuts that didn’t smell rotten. The same was true for the dried berries stored in brown burlap sacks. There were several kilograms worth of both in the two cabinets.

Adrian wasn’t in a state to care and grabbed whole handfuls, eating it all like a starved animal. He didn’t stop until the weight finally hit his stomach.

He puked, retching up most of everything he had eaten onto the floor as he nearly toppled. When he was done he ate some more, pacing himself a little better this time.

Energy and strength slowly returned to his body, reminding him more than anything else that he was in pain, scared, and lost in some royal’s kitchen.

Things are looking up, he thought and looked at the puke next to an undead corpse. Did I do that?

He sighed and looked at the nuts before he ate another handful. He held some of it close to his nose, the earthy smell at least partially helping with everything else.

Soulbound:

Essence – 32

Level – 1

Vitality – 11 [12]

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9 [12]

Skill – 8 [15]

Intelligence – 12 [14]

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

Equipment:

Helmet – Faenhold Soldier Helmet [Adequate]

Vitality +1

Chest – Faenhold Soldier Leather Armor [High]

Strength +2

Warrior Soul Skill Damage +2

Arms – Faenhold Soldier Bracers [Adequate]

Fire Magic Resistance +2%

Hands – Royal Faenhold Silk Gloves [High]

Skill +4

Rogue Soul Skill Damage +3

Belt – Royal Faenhold Belt [High]

Intelligence +2

Light Magic Mana Cost +2

Legs – Faenhold Knight Pants [Adequate]

Skill +2

Boots – Faenhold Soldier Boots [Adequate]

Skill +1

1h Weapon – Faenhold Shortsword [Adequate]

Strength +1

2h Weapon –

Off Hand – Wooden Shield [Common]