Chapter 10 – Virtual Morality

Everything is silent.

The only sound I hear is my heart slamming against my chest. The smell of charred flesh tears in my nostrils and I feel a building headache.

The adrenaline rush is slowly leaving my body and the old familiar sensation of pain resumes to ache in my shoulder.

My breath is still far too heavy.

...

Fuuuck. How did I survive that?

My mind is scrambled, and the only thing that lets me keep my sanity is the arrival of the notorious blue windows.

Your tribe has slain 27 [Harpy Fighter]s, 1 [Advisor]. You have leveled up!

You are now level 1.

You have 5 unassigned attribute points.

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Your tribe has slain an enemy commander [Harvalon]. You have leveled up!

You are now level 3.

You have 15 unassigned attribute points.

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Congratulations!

You have gained 2 skill levels in Crossbow Specialization!

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Congratulations!

You have gained 2 skill levels in Concealment!

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Congratulations!

You have gained 1 skill level in Dagger Specialization!

Uh… What…

I blink a few times, my mind unable to follow the rapid messages filling my vision. It seems that I just leveled up bigtime. But… I’m just not ready to deal with this right now.

I dismiss the prompts and slump down on the ground. I close my eyes and wait for the last of my adrenaline to fade.

The battle felt like an eternity, but it was actually short. Insanely short. And intense!

In truth, it wasn’t much of a battle. It was a short lived skirmish that turned into a deadly ambush. It only lasted a few minutes, but almost everyone died. My goblins hacked apart a bunch of injured and unarmored harpies. It was a brawl in its truest sense, and there were little trace of anything that could be described as honorable fighting.

The image of my goblins thrusting their daggers into the exposed necks of the injured harpies is… unsettling, to say the least.

But it’s a game though. That should make it ok?

But it’s so realistic…

So much blood.

A cold shiver crawls down my spine. I wish I could throw up, but I don’t think the game developers added that feature. I suppose it wouldn’t look good on camera… Or maybe they did. I don’t know. I don’t know anything.

My eyes wander aimlessly across the battlefield. There are so many dead things. Dead harpies mostly. Their feathery corpses are everywhere. A small sea of blood and feathers colors the ground crimson. There are a couple of other creatures amongst the dead birds though. Two of my goblins perished in the battle at the field, and the third one…

Shit.

My eyes widen as I remember how my goblin bodyguard died.

I sacrificed him…

My mind fills with static and blood drains from my face. The tight knot in my stomach twists and grinds against my skin. I struggle to breathe as panic overtakes me. My body starts to shake violently. I topple over, assuming a fetal position.

…

I sacrificed him… I let him die to save myself… How could I…

…

That wasn’t a game. That was real. It sickens me. How could the developers add that shit in a game?

The dying sounds of my bodyguard play over and over in my mind. I let him die...

I close my eyes and let my mind shut down. I don’t know for how long I lie there, but I’m eventually capable of forming coherent thoughts.

“This game is too real.” I mutter to myself. I mentally open the blue window I had never thought I would consider using.

Emergency Logout.

Do you wish to log out of Fantasy Royale?

Warning! Logging out will lead to instant disqualification from the game.

My mental finger hovers above the accept button for a short while. I hesitate. Is this really what I want?

…

I sigh. I must. This game is too much. It’s bringing forth things-

*Thump*

“Oww…”

*THUMP*

“FUCK!” I start punching wildly in the air. I look up and see the familiar shape of Gut hovering above me. My cutlass wielding goblin stands beside him, his armor… my armor, in tatters. They both look worried.

“WHAT!?” I yell at them.

Gut just looks at me. He seems to consider his answer carefully.

“You looked as if you were about to do something really stupid.” He mumbles quietly.

“And what if I were? That’s my choice and mine alone.” I snap back. I’m not even sure why I’m suddenly so angry.

“Stop acting like a fucking elf!” He shouts at me. All trace of the previous worry all but gone. “You’re a goblin chieftain! A goblin! Being a fool is not in our nature.”

“To hell with you and your fucking goblins! You are not real!” I scream at him. How dares he? He’s a fucking V.I. What gives him the right to lecture me?

Gut stares at me. His eyes shooting venom.

“Real? REAL!? What nonsense is this? Can you not see us? Can we not communicate with you? Are we not capable of individual thought?”

His response baffles me. “Of course you’re not real! You're just a string of ones and zeroes. Your actions are nothing but calculated scripted events.”

His face stiffens. “What arrogance. Or is it just ignorance? Isn’t that how any sentient being behaves? Acting based on a precalculated analysis of any given situation, and responding with a scripted reaction formed after a lifetime of environmental stimuli?”

…

“What the... “ I’m stunned. Why am I suddenly stuck in a weird philosophical debate with a V.I? What the actual hell...

“You’re just not, okay? You were made by a human, and you are saying and doing exactly what that human wants you to say. You’re nothing but an elaborate puppet.” My gloves are off. Fuck this guy.

“What difference does my creation mean? We have all been created. Being the product of industry makes me no less real than a product of evolution. Why would sentience limit itself to only function in a vessel made of flesh and blood, and not one of metal?”

“Because…” I shift uncomfortably on the ground. “You just don’t okay? You can’t feel!” I yell.

“Feel?” Gut looks confused. “What makes you think that?”

“Him!” I point over the corpse of my dead goblin bodyguard. “Do you see him? Did you see what I did to him?” I scream. My throat is getting hoarse. “I killed him okay? I killed him to save myself. And this was right after he saved my life. Who does that kind of shit? It’s not okay! How can you not understand how that makes me feel? Only a fucking emotionless tin can can shove that aside. You only have your single purpose. You’re a fucking emotionless tool.” My voice starts ebbing away. It still stings my heart to relive my previous actions.

I lay on the ground just staring up at Gut, fire in my eyes. The old mage is quiet for once. Just looking back at me. I can see a small spark in his eyes as he is processing what I’m trying to say.

“I see…” He finally says. “You feel guilty.”

I do my utmost not to snap back at him. I want to keep screaming at him. Punch him. Tear his flesh off. No fucking shit Sherlock. I do feel guilty. I killed someone who considered me their leader. Someone who risked his life protecting me. Out of cowardice. So what if the goblin isn’t real? It sure as fucking hell felt real as I saw the harpy’s sharp metal spikes close in on my face.

…

Fuck.

Is that really the kind of person I am?

“I can understand how you feel…” Gut starts.

“No you don’t.” I interrupt him. “But thanks for trying.”

“No, I do. I’m not going to tell you to forget about it. I believe you just experienced one of those handful of moments you get during your life.” He sits down next to me and rests his hand on my shoulder.

“But I will say this. Don’t let it bring you down. Remember the feeling and let it guide you. Don’t let it bring you down.” He points towards the dead goblin. “He died protecting you. It’s probably a terrible comfort for now, but he served his purpose. He was prepared to die to save you. If you died, he would have died as well. As would every single one of us. There is no reason to feel bad about him dying.”

I listen intently as he tries to cheer me up. It’s a pretty cheesy and cliche line to throw at me, but I appreciate it nonetheless.

I don’t agree with him. Not one second. But it still feels better. What I did was equal to the pinnacle of being a dick, but what can I do? It happened. It was an instinctive reaction. Can I be blamed for that? I have no control over my instinct for self preservation.

…

If the goblin had been real, and this had been in a court of law, I would probably have been screwed. And that’s not even counting the morally dark area of my actions.

Shit. How am I supposed to deal with that? Just move along and pretend it didn’t happen?

Fuck no.

This shit’s probably gonna haunt me till the day I die.

So what can I do?

Make sure it doesn’t happen again? … Maybe… Is it really that simple though? It’s very likely I will face a similar situation in this game. What will I do if that happens? Will I sacrifice another goblin to save myself then? Will I remember this situation and freeze? Would I sacrifice myself to save another goblin?

I don’t know. Fuck. I hate not knowing.

I rack my brain over this matter. I have a lot of hypotheticals and what-if’s, but not a single piece of fact to support my train of thoughts.

…

So why don’t I just quit? It would be easy…

For the briefest moment, I can see a memory flash of Richard’s condescending smirk appear in my mind. My blood starts boiling.

Richard.

I can’t quit now. I won’t. I must keep going.

But is it worth it? Can I really keep going with these realisations about myself just like that? No. It’s not worth it..

But fuck it if I ain’t gonna to do it anyway.

I just have to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Somehow...

“Make everyone go heal their wounds… then start gathering our spoils of war. I need a moment.” I tell no one in particular. I receive a quick acknowledgement from Gut before I hear him scurry off. It might just be me, but I think Gut’s step has an extra spring to it.

I just keep lying on my back for a while. After a few minutes, my quiet bliss is interrupted by the return of my builders and resource gatherers. I hid them in the forest to the west during the battle, and I’m glad to see they are already stomping back to us and starting to work. Just as if there hadn’t just been a short bloody skirmish going on.

Simpletons…

I wish it was that easy to forget about shit for me as well.

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I lie on my back for what feels like hours. It could be minutes, I really don’t know. It’s impossible for me to fall asleep, but I just lie there. Staring up at the sky and trying to empty my mind. I definitely didn’t fall asleep though. The constant hammering of my builders close by denies me the opportunity.

I wonder if they are close to finishing?

I sit up in a comfortable position and straighten my back. The game’s coding prevents me from feeling sore, but I still feel that good old need to stretch. After cracking a few joints, I turn my head and have a look around.

My builders have made good progress on my granary. The roof is close to being finished as the builders are placing the last pieces of grass in the correct spots. The walls are still being hammered in and soon covers most of the structure. A few meters off, a couple of the builders is finalizing what seems to be a crude door. I don’t think it will be more than a couple of hours for them to finish.

Shit. For how long did I zone out?

I spring to my feet and start looking for Gut. If anyone around here can form enough coherent sentences to tell me what's going on, it has to be Gut. I walk over to a small hill near the pool of water. It doesn’t take long for me to find him sitting by the water, sipping from his ever-full wineskin.

“Gut…” I mutter.

The old mage slowly turns his head and gives me a short respectful nod. He seems to be playing with a white object the size of an orange. I don’t bother looking too close.

I sit down next to him and gesture for him to pass the wine. After taking a few sips, I feel ready to start functioning like a human being again.

Squinting, I raise my hand and gently squeeze the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger.

“Did we gain anything from that fight?”

Gut takes a long swig from the wineskin.

“We did indeed young one… this one here is the big prize.” He abruptly tosses the white ball over to me. I fumble a little, but manage to grab it without dropping it. It feels smooth to the touch. I turn it over in my hands and have a better look at it.

Woah.

It’s a freaking skull!

My grip on the skull tightens and my eyes shoot open. This is so weird. I have never held a skull before. Not a real one at least. It didn’t quite feel like this in Yggdrasil Online. I can’t explain it. Who did this come from? Harvalon?

Reading my odd expression, Gut speaks up.

“That right there is a [Special Skull]. The skull of an enemy leader. It holds great value.”

“What sort of value?” I immediately inquire. Gut raises a non existing eyebrow. “A grand ritual young one. But you need an altar first.”

Again with the altar? That’s the second time Gut has hinted at how great an altar is. I need one of those…

I sit quietly for a moment, slowly rotating the skull in my hands. Observing it closely. The appearance of a blue prompt scares the hell out of me and I start a crazy coughing fit.

[Special Skull]

Remnant of the player [Harvalon]

The skull of a fallen player has several valuable uses. It can be used to perform rituals at a religious altar, or be used as a powerful crafting reagent in [Alchemy]. The [Special Skull] can also be used to [Subjugate] the player within three hours of his or her death.

“Wh… Who….WHAAAAAT!?” I yell. I can subjugate her!?

Holy fudge nuggets! YES DAMN IT!

My mind jumbles into utter chaos. The new information that randomly fell onto my lap is quite literally my recipe to win! I can subjugate Harvalon! A flying race! I was so jealous when I saw Harvalon’s ability to fly earlier, and now I can make that power mine? Hell yeah! Air Force Goblin at your service. Yes please!

Ecstatic, I quickly try to recall what I needed to subjugate someone. Hmm what was it? Ten points into [Diplomat]? That’s a lot… Too much perhaps. I did gain three levels after this fight which gave me fifteen unassigned points. Those points definitely have some potentially good uses. But I’d be damned if any one of them can trump actual flying units.

Right. Shit. I’m going to keep trusting my gut on this one. It has been true to me so far. Sort of…

I perform my good old mental maneuvers and open up my character page. From here, I focus on my [Diplomat] stat point and increase it to the required ten points. I do briefly consider my other options, but my mind is set. While I’m here though, I decide to chuck the last five points into the [Trainer] stat. Because why not?

With glee on my face, I once more focus on the skull in my hands. The same information box appears in my mind and I flex my mental muscles and order it to activate [Subjugate]. A small bell like sound chimes in my mind before another blue translucent window appears in front of me.

Subjugate player Harvalon

Time remaining: 14 Minutes, 36 Seconds.

Warning: Unable to subjugate player as you lacked the required amount of stat point for [Diplomat] at the time of the player’s death.

Subjugation not possible.

…

I bury my face in my hands.

I take a couple of deep breaths while staying completely quiet.

…

“I should have expected this…” I say out loud. “There is just no way for me to catch a fucking break is there?” I continue to bury my face. Gut doesn’t say anything, but I can feel his gaze lingering on me. I don’t want to look up. I’m not sure if I can handle looking at his face as it’s probably filled with pity.

A distant voice in the back of my mind is all that keeps me from grabbing the skull and throwing it as far as I can into the pool of water. This joke isn’t even funny anymore.

I slowly pull my hands away and focus my eyes on the ground in front of me. The skull is staring back at me. Mocking me. At least it feels like it.

“Every fucking time...” I whisper. I take the skull and cram it into my utility belt. I use a little more force than necessary, but it feels good. I hate the bloody thing, but for some reason I’m not comfortable putting something like this in the giant resource pile. And no matter how much I want to use it as a football, I can’t risk wasting something this valuable. Life is cruel that way...

The skull disappears from my hands and fills one of the four spots in the belt. This is a common feature in these sort of games. Instant size adjustment for easier transportation. It’s pretty neat. Too bad it ruins the feeling of forcefully handling it.

“Did we gain anything else?” I grunt at Gut.

The old goblin takes another long swig from his wine skin. Damn. That little bugger can drink.

“Yes, young one. Twenty-eight [Skull]s, eight [Hardened Leather Scrap]s and four [Steel Scrap]s.”

“Huh…”

I don’t really know what to think of that.

Is that good? Did I get a good haul? I don’t know… Everything apart from the [Skull]s is marked as scrap. It seems to be high level junk though. I’m sure they have a use. Why else would my minions gather them?

“Thanks” I mutter to Gut as I turn away and start walking. My mind too heavy to keep the conversation going. I’m exhausted and I’m sick of being awake.

I’m just so goddamn tired of thinking. There’s always something to think about and deal with. It’s downright annoying is what it is. It doesn’t help that I seem to have reached the emotional stage of a fourteen year old girl who is going through puberty.

Freaking emotions...

I’m not a fan of having emotions. They always seem to be in the way. To be honest… I have sometimes envied sociopaths and their lack of empathy. I wish I could have the stone cold rationality to push through any obstacle in life. Feelings always mess things up. For everyone.

I take a deep breath.

…

It’s not that easy though. It never is. My emotions are here to stay. It’s probably for the best too… But damn. It would be nice to have an off switch every now and then.

I walk over towards the makeshift camp area by the water. I spot my favourite tuft of grass and collapse my body onto it. I pass out before my head even hits the ground.