Chapter 71: A Reckoning

“It’s that damned rogue!”

“Get him!”

“He’s killed Saben!”

With Morin dead, the attention of the remaining gang members turned my way. My gaze flicked left and right. Players were converging on me from all sides, and I saw no safe path to the exit or back to the spiderwebs lining the walls. Crouching down, I tried slipping into the shadows.

You have failed to conceal yourself from the nearby entities.

So be it, I thought. I will make my stand here. Bending over Saben’s corpse, I removed his shortsword.

You have acquired the rank 1 shortsword: spider’s bite. This item increases the damage you deal by: 15% and bears the enchantment: webbed, that causes magical strands to appear beneath your opponent’s feet on every successful hit. If the target fails a physical resistance check, they will be held for 1 second. This item requires a minimum Dexterity of 4 to wield. The item’s enchantments are presently fully charged, and can be replenished with mana.

Huh. Nice sword, I thought, calm despite the screaming gang members rushing towards me. I pivoted to face the entrance, and armed with a blade in either hand, charged the candidates there.

~~~

A skeleton was at the fore of the group, three steps ahead of the others. I hurtled towards the undead. Sidestepping the creature at the last moment, I slashed at it in passing with Saben’s sword.

You have critically injured a level 11 skeletal warrior. Webbed triggered! A skeletal warrior has failed a physical resistance check! You have immobilized your target for 1 second.

I moved on.

A warrior and mage were before me, with others crowding on either side of them. The warrior raised her shield defensively and slashed down with her mace, while the mage pointed his wand at me.

I dodged to the right and out of the warrior’s reach, and before the mage could release his spell, I sliced open his bare throat with my lefthanded blade.

You have killed Larsen.

A spearman to the mage’s right was lunging at me with his weapon. I fended off the spear with my righthanded blade, and ripped open his torso with the one in my left.

You have killed Javelin.

Two blows struck my rear in quick succession.

A magic missile has injured you! A magic missile has injured you!

I was caught flatfooted by the impact and staggered forward. A warrior approaching on my right took the opportunity to swipe at me with his axe. I swayed left, barely dodging the blow, and fell against another spellcaster.

A priest, I thought. I shoved into my smaller foe, and thrust one of my swords through her robes and into her heart.

You have killed Layla.

A sword struck me from behind, and a line of fire ripped down my shoulder. My back arched back involuntarily, and I shrieked.

An unknown assailant has injured you!

A dagger plunged into my thigh. Then another into my side. The end was near. Dizzy with pain, I pivoted on my heel. Or tried to. Instead, I barely managed a quarter turn. Still, the move put another foe in front of me, and without hesitation I buried both my blades in his chest.

You have killed Declan. You have reached level 20.

I smiled a bloody grin and kept going. More blows rained down on me, but I didn’t feel any of them—which I knew was not a good sign.

Throwing back my head, I howled.

I imagined it was a terrifying sound because for one blessed second the attacks stopped. Still cackling with glee, I let go all semblance of control. Forgoing conscious thought entirely, I hacked blindly with both my blades, with neither plan nor consideration for who or what was in front of me.

For a few glorious seconds I was invincible. It had to end of course. Changing tactics suddenly, the gang members withdrew away from me like a receding tide.

That’s when the first arrow struck my shoulder.

A second followed, thudding into my hip. A third glanced off my helm. The fourth buried itself in my chest. My vision went blurry, and my thoughts ground to a halt. I didn’t stop trying to fight though. Staggering blindly, I wafted my blades aimlessly.

Warning! Your health is dangerously low at 3%. Death imminent.

“Enough!” I heard a voice roar.

But it didn’t matter if they stopped now. I was too far gone. I swayed and crashed to the floor, managing only a half-caught glimpse of a pair of glowing red eyes before my consciousness fled entirely.

~~~

Awareness seeped back slowly. A second later, memory followed. My eyes slid open, and I found myself staring at a rock ceiling Not moving, I took stock of myself. All my injuries had been healed and I was blessedly free of pain.

Your health is now at 100%.

The Game message confirmed what my senses told me. Is that what dying feels like? I wondered. The experience hadn’t so bad after all.

Another sensation made itself known. Lethargy. My limbs felt sluggish. As if my pools of energy are still low. I frowned. If I had been reborn, my stamina should have been replenished.

“Look at me, boy.”

My head creaked to the left and I found a pair of red eyes glaring at me.

“Stayne,” I muttered. His body was hidden in interlocking plates of armor formed from black glass, but his luminous eyes and grinning skull—left deliberately bare I suspected—were unmistakable.

The undead grunted. “Why is that I always find myself waiting for you to wake up?”

“Twice is hardly always,” I growled and pushed myself up into a seated position. “What are—”

I broke off, finally seeing my arm. I was still wearing my hide leather armor.

“You haven’t died if that is what you’re wondering,” Stayne said.

I raised my head again and took in my surroundings. I was in Saben’s chambers, lying in the same spot where I had fallen. Bodies still littered the floor and a few gang members moved quietly about in the background. Other than Stayne himself, no one else was paying me any attention.

Gnat glided down from the darkness to alight on my shoulder. I nodded to him before turning back to Stayne. “Why am I still alive?” I asked quietly.

The undead’s eyes flickered momentarily to the bat before returning to me. “It’s time we had a chat.” He paused, looking at me expectantly.

At a low chuckle and hushed voices my gaze drifted beyond Stayne to the gang members bending over something on the ground. It was Decalthiya, I realized. The thugs were stripping her body and making obscene comments about her size.

Fury lashed through me. Bastards. How dare they—

With considerable effort, I wrestled my thoughts under control. Now was not the time. But soon, I promised myself, the wretches would pay. I turned back to Stayne. “Go, on,” I said evenly.

“You’ve been a busy boy,” Stayne said. He waited for me to comment. When I said nothing, he went on. “Level twenty and two Marks already,” he mused. “A pity that they are such weak ones though.” His glowing red orbs flared suddenly. “What task did you complete to get those Marks?”

My jaw tightened in the face of the undead’s stare. So this is an interrogation. I remained silent, but Stayne’s words reminded me of something else. Drawing on my will, I analyzed him.

The target is Stayne, an ascendant undead of indeterminant level. This entity is a player, and bears a Mark of Supreme Dark, a Mark of Erebus, a Mark of Death, a Mark of...

Morin had been right. Stayne was a player. He carried a long list of Marks too, many of them meaningless to me. What is an ascendant undead? I wondered.

“Answer me!” Stayne demanded.

I said nothing.

Gnat lowered his head and placed his mouth next to my ear. “You should tell him what he wants to know, Michael. Stayne is dangerous. Don’t toy with him. ”

My gaze slid sideways to the bat, but still, I remained silent.

“You should listen to the familiar,” Stayne said. He leaned forward. “You want to get out of the dungeon, don’t you?”

I glanced at the undead, my interest finally piqued. “I do,” I said at last.

He leaned back. “Then tell me what I want to know. It’s the only way you will leave this place alive. You understand?”

I nodded, deciding to play along.

“Good, now tell me about the dire wolves.”

So he knows about them. “What about the wolves?”

“Don’t be coy with me, boy. I know your task was related to them.”

I stared at him for a long moment, internally debating what to say and what to try to keep hidden, then shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Freeing the wolves was a hidden task.”

“And what rewards did the Adjudicator give you?”

“The Marks obviously.”

“Nothing else?”

I drew my brows down in feigned confusion. “Like what?”

Stayne’s eyes narrowed, inspecting me the way a cat would a mouse, but he didn’t question my response further. “Where are the wolves now?”

“They left through the sector exit.”

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

I glared at him. “You know why.”

Stayne didn’t bother pretending ignorance as to my meaning. “What? Don’t tell me you thought the task the Master set you was going to be fair?” He chuckled. “Trust me, when I say you will not escape the Master’s clutches without proving your loyalty to the Dark. The sector portal is the only way out.”

I didn’t believe him. The Master might have an agenda, but I suspected the Adjudicator was—if not fair—at least impartial. The second task I had acquired was proof enough of that. But I would gain nothing by mention any of that to the undead. “Why are you here, Stayne?” I asked, attempting a question of my own.

To my surprise, he answered. “To issue you a warning.”

“What warning?”

“Correct your ways, or perish,” Stayne stated baldly. “You have strayed from the path the Master deems acceptable. Normally this would be of no concern, and you would be left to wither away. But for some reason, the Master has taken an interest in you.” The undead’s gaze pinned me again. “Do you know why?”

I shook my head mutely. I had an inkling though. My Class evolution… it has to be that. But I didn’t understand yet why it would attract the Master’s attention.

Stayne snorted, seeming to have no trouble believing my answer. “Well however you have managed it, you have impressed the Master. I am here at his behest.”

I struggled to keep any alarm from showing on my face. The Master’s interest was the last thing I wanted. “And how am I expected to ‘correct my ways?’” I asked carefully.

Stayne laughed. It was a hollow sound, stripped bare of any joy. “It simple. Seal yourself to the Dark. You can do that by taking on a Dark Class, or by swearing allegiance to the Master through me. The Master doesn’t care which option you choose.” The light in the undead’s eyes intensified. “But naturally, I would prefer you take up the second choice.”

“You want me to become your follower?” I asked, unable to stifle the note of disbelief in my voice.

“Technically, the Master’s follower. But yes,” Stayne replied. “I can make it worth your while, you know.” He eyed my gear derisively. “For starters, I can see to it that you are much better equipped.

“What about Saben?”

“What about him?”

“Isn’t he your follower? Won’t me swearing allegiance to you anger him?”

“Saben isn’t one of mine,” Stayne said curtly. “The fool rejected what the Master offered him. Now, make your choice.”

I frowned. If it wasn’t Stayne, or the Master would who was helping Saben, who was it? After witnessing the gang leader’s abilities for myself, it was clear that Tantor’s and Morin’s suspicion were correct. Someone was aiding him. There was no way he had got as strong as he had on his own.

“My time grows short,” Stayne said, interrupting my musings. “What is your choice?”

I bit my lip, thinking. I didn’t want to refuse the undead player outright. I suspected he wouldn’t take rejection well, but how was I going to placate him? “Tell one more thing,” I said, deciding to play for time, “what is Saben?”

“And why should I tell you that?” Stayne asked, his tone amused.

“Call it a gesture of good faith?” I tried.

The undead snorted, but decided to humor me anyway. “Saben is a dark acolyte and sworn servant of Ishita.”

“Ishita?” I asked sharply. “What is she? Another player?”

Stayne laughed. “You’re clueless, aren’t you? Ishita is as far beyond a player as I am from you.” His eyes glinted. “Ishita is a Power of the Dark, and another member of the Awakened Dead faction.” He paused. “And for some reason, the spider goddess is interested in you, too. Saben had orders to capture you for her.”

“Spider goddess?” I repeated. Of course. The transformation spell I’d interrupted. The spiderwebs. It all came together. “Sigmar lied about that too, didn’t he? This was never a spider’s lair. Saben is a shapeshifter. He is the spider.”

“My, my, so you aren’t as dumb as you look. You’ve got it in one. Now you’ve wasted enough of my time.” Too quick to follow, Stayne slashed his blade across my throat.

Stayne has critically injured you. Warning! Your health is dangerously low at 2%. Death imminent.

My eyes bulged and my hands clutched at my neck in an attempt to stem the bleeding. “Why?” I managed to croak as my life drained away.

Stayne shook his head. “You may have promise, boy, but you don’t know your place. Consider this your first lesson. You don’t question me. Ever. Now you’ve got two more chances. Use them wisely, and don’t disappoint me or the Master again.”

Swinging around, Stayne walked away, leaving me to my fate. Death was not long in coming.

You have died.