Chapter 14: Prince and a silent farewell

Fearless was down to his final wine sack. He didn’t expect that he would drink that much during this trip, he should have. In his initial calculation, he would have a little bit left before reaching the wall of Madukat. In his thought, he told himself that he would consume the wine sparingly. And yet, he has emptied four wine sacks within five days. He didn’t realize that he was that much of an alcoholic person... he was more of a party person, he told himself, and what kind of a party person that would not drink themselves senseless with wine. Wine was always a vehicle for him, a mean to an end, not the end itself. The end was the bizarre situations when he woke up and could not connect all the dot of how he got there. The end was the warmth of the beautiful goddesses’ thighs on those unfamiliar beds. The end was the hysterical laughter when he told his friends of his trips to the wonder lands after those drunken stupor parties. The end was the thrill of not knowing what would wait for him at the end of the road. The end was the sense of liberation when he could live his life in irresponsibility and freed of bindings.

Perhaps, if this wine was stronger and fiercer, he would not have consume that much, maybe, he would never know. If it was the Rectified spirit that those Polish fans of Fantasy loved so much, then sure, Fearless would knock himself out after a gulp or two. He called that drink the instant-memory-wiper. One glass of that Polish vodka was enough to make a man like Fearless passed out.

The golden Rolex on his left wrist pointed ten, the night was very young. This was the first time he saw Iliva’s sleeping figure. The missing taste of wine on his lips was probably the main reason to this. He was a night owl and a party goer, and what kind of night owl would go to sleep early, ten was too early.

The beautiful Arachne could only accompany him for so long, when his Rolex hit nine, her eye lids were already unable to keep up. Fearless smiled, walked to her hammock and planted an innocent kiss on her lips, “Sweet dream, my goddess,” he said, and her eyes lids opened wide, the red orbs gazed at him, glistering with questions and surprises, but not for very long, and they eventually yielded to the sand man.

Fearless was able to feast his eyes on such artful masterpiece for five days, and he had not have enough of that. This was the only time he got to see her in her most vulnerable moment up close.

Iliva was a truly beautiful goddess. Her eye lashes were long, white and pretty. Her full and rich lips were like a bud of rose, full of grace and mystic. Her upturned and feminine nose complimented her oval shape face. Her hair was a cascade of soft and flowing platinum threads, and while her hair did not have the shine or the gloss of platinum threads, a bit of hair treatment or hair conditioner could fix that. Even without makeup, she could rival even the most beautiful women Fearless has ever dated. With makeup, there would be no contest, it would be a massacre.

Iliva’s skin was white, pale white, which was something Fearless was not fond of, he preferred it tanned or light tanned and yet, this was the only time his life he would question his own taste. Her pale white skin was fair and unworldly which added to the unworldliness atmosphere around her

Iliva had an enchanting nape which hidden underneath her full cascade of platinum hair. Her divine breasts were voluminous, full and perky. When they jiggled, it was a feast for the eyes. Fearless could only dream of sinking his head into such divine objects and he could only wait until he was granted the permission from the goddess herself, until then, he could only dream.

And Fearless sighed, willed himself to pry his eyes away from such work of art to return to his humble camp fire. It’s always painful for him to admire such great beauty and yet could not touch. The pain came from his heart and his own crotch. It’s a historic achievement that he could endure such pain for five days on a row. Fearless sighed again and added more firewood to the cracking orange flame. He watched the embers danced in the air while trying to absorb every bit of information he has learned. He took out his magic coins and cards within his pockets and started playing around with them.

Reign of Chaos at the beginning of the Great War era had sixty three warlords and now with the addition of Fearless and Iliva, that’s sixty five. Perhaps there were more, but at this moment, Fearless had no way of confirming that. Now, everything had become problematic for him. He could only hope that even if this was treated as a new patch of the game, a shitty patch called reality, it would not be too much for him to handle.

Reign of Chaos was originally a single roleplaying strategic game. Gamers would decide which of the sixty three warlords available at the beginning of the Great War to role-play. Each of the warlord would have their unique advantages and disadvantages that came with their racial traits, abilities, domain geography, officers in their services, resources and politics. Gamers had to form alliances, mining their resources and built their army to expand their territory. And with each of their successful attempt of forming alliances and military exploits, gamers would be a step closer to victory. The basis of Reign of Chaos was that gamers get to change the history of Escana in the path they desired, far and away from the original timeline and events.

There were two multiplayers version of ROC, the one on one mode and the five on five mode. One on one was very simple, Gamers can forget about building alliances and politics aspect of the game and just focused on mining resources and built their army. Since the map of the one on one mode was significantly smaller than the original map, gamers would have their army face off almost instantly. The match could end within ten minute or could last as long as two hours or more. And ironically, the best one on one ROC player in the world was an AI bot.

The five on five mode of ROC made gamers divided into two teams. Each team would alternately pick five warlords of their choices while banning the opposing team from choosing three specific warlords. The game at this point immediately turned into a gigantic cluster bomb of chaos. Both sides would have their hand full at all time. And each of the players on both side would be divided to their specific roles to maximize the team’s potential. Ten human controlled warlords with the addition of fifty AI control warlord would duke it out until one human controlled team of warlords got wiped out. A single match of this version of ROC last more than an hour and twenty minutes on average.

The shortest win in the history of pro-league in a five on five was recorded in a match where the Ancient Gods played against the Red Dawn, twenty minutes and fifteen seconds, a historical match that every fan of ROC know.

And the longest match that was ever recorded in the history of ROC was almost six hours where The Alliance faced off against the new and improved Ancient Gods to defend their third championship title. It was an exhausting match for Fearless and his team as well as the opposing team, the fans, the commentators and even the producing team. It was a nightmare for everyone. And when that match came to an end, Fearless and his team were too exhausted, mentally and spiritually to even cry despite the unexpected upset in the last minutes. And the Ancient Gods too, they had no energy in them to even celebrate. It was the most punishing final match. The commentators could not scream at that point, their voices were lost around the three hours mark. The fans seating in the arena too, were drained at the end of that match, except for a few guys who apparently saved up their energy for this moment. They could only stand up and clap their hands.

It was only when they came back to their hotel and had their much belated lunch and dinner combined, Fearless and his team could finally cry because how close they were to victory and yet they allowed it slipped away from them. To fight such a punishing six hour battle and lose at the end, it was frustratingly painful.

Fearless sighed away from the memory of that bitter defeat and focused on his own stats, skills and perks. With this kind of attribute, he could contest against the best of generals, military advisors and politicians if the number really reflected his actual ability. In fact, Fearless really concerned about the legitimacy of these number. For instance, even at level two, he had a 101 point in wisdom while the wisest character in ROC would be able to stock that same numerical value at level ten. That’s insane, Fearless thought, could not believe that he was so much wiser than a 500 year olds high elf ruler. The older the man, the wiser he became. It’s hard to imagine that Fearless could be wiser than such woman.

Then, the matter of HP, MP and MIGHT. Fearless could not find the HP and MP column anywhere. But he felt like he was dying when the serpent coiled around him and felt something was drained from his body when he casted “What you can do, I can do better.” And MIGHT, Fearless had no idea how this attribute would affect him and this world. Normally, the higher the MIGHT, the more the HP a character possessed. But Fearless could not imagine that it would take him ten or twenty stabs or more with Enfermé to kill someone with high MIGHT value, perhaps someone at the level of Iliva. One stab with Enfermé to the heart or one slash through the neck would be enough to kill anyone. Even if a demon lord was to be summoned, Fearless thought he could kill it, just slather dragon bane on Enfermé and stuck it right in the demon lord’s ass, that would probably enough, otherwise he would opt for the head.

Fearless believed that he had to play around with these attributes a lot to discern their trustworthy level. He was not really a trusting man. It was his nature to doubt and question.

Then Fearless watched his perks. Without a doubt, he would gain EXP easily with the help of the perk champion of champions which made him eligible for all military and civil activities. But then, how useful was that? This was pretty much a reality now, he can do whatever he wanted and be whoever he wanted to be. It no longer had the restriction like that in the game. And the Philanderer and Harem Prince perks, what were the developers thinking? Fearless had never need those perks in real life to put his head inside the thighs of someone’s wife. He never need these perks to seduce a woman. These perks were there as if to mock him.

Only the skills that Fearless received had impacts to him at the moment. One of them saved his life this morning. Fearless read the skills’ description, some made him wanted to laugh, some made him wanted to curse the developers. However, he found no useless skills, but then there was no useless skill in ROC, only useless people who had no idea how to use their skills properly.

And Fearless sighed again when a piece of dried wood inside his camp fire cracked into two.

“What am I even thinking about? I’m insane. This is not a game anymore. Why am I thinking about waging war? Fucking hell, why am I thinking of killing people?” Fearless rolled his eyes over his last wine sack, mulling between emptied it today or saving it for another day. And he decided to get himself drunk another day.

When Fearless had nothing else to play within his mind, he thought of his dad, his The Alliance and Alice. He wondered how they would cope with his death. He put his magic coins and cards back into his pocket and took out his wallet. The fucking developers, how did they even guess what’s inside his wallet? This piece of information should be a secret between himself and his friends…. and all the goddesses who have slept with him.

That one time Fearless showed the content of his wallet to Misery, Misery twisted his face, “You are so sick, bro,” he said. Not that Fearless really disagreed, inside his wallet, there’s only his ID, his driving license, credit card, a couple pictures, a bit of small change, and rubbers. And rubbers, they were the real contents of his wallet.

“Why the heck do you have so many rubber inside your wallet?” Misery asked.

“Why not? Everyone should prepare this much inside their wallet, don’t you think? We should be responsible and careful in this matter.”

“No, you are fucking sick bro. Nobody load this many rubbers inside their wallet.”

“I’m stocking this many because I have uses for them…. Oh, I see. That’s the difference. I’m sorry, bro. You should hurry and get rid of that V card of yours, otherwise that rubber will just lie in your wallet for no reason,” Fearless cackled and patted on Misery’s shoulder.

And Misery’s face went red, he chased after Fearless with his flailing arms. That was fun time. Fearless smiled and pulled out a picture that was taken during a barbeque hosted inside his home backyard.

Everyone he cared was there. FY with his wife, Fantasy and his girlfriend, Merleon and his famous dad, Misery and his girlfriend for hire. Alice was there as well, helping him cooking the meat to serve his guests. And his own dad, he sat on that wooden chair with a guitar in his hand, playing it to entertaining the guests.

And suddenly, one of those bastards broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream that wet his ashen cheeks. Fearless held onto the picture as the scenery around him was suddenly enveloped by a hazy screen. Everything went blur and misty, and the tears never stopped rolling.

Fantasy, I guess I will never get to see you again. I can never bring you to a party again with people asking me why you are dressing like that behind my ears. And you would never again have the chance to hid all of my clothes and fill my wardrobe with all of your hideous creations. Oh, and don’t try to do that with Misery, he will kill you for that.

Merleon, you should start asking Fantasy to design a T-shirt for you or something similar, something that has a label ‘I’m a pro-gamer, mate,’ maybe those security would let you walk inside the player reserved area more frequently. Also, be extra careful when you go to that sword school, armored or not, a two-handed sword or something heavier than that go down your wrist and you will be out for an entire season of ROC. Misery will kick you in the balls for that, so don’t do something that stupid.

Misery, stop hiring people to act like your girlfriend, find a woman and settle down like for real this time. You can’t just be alone by yourself when everyone else within our group return to our hearth and nest. And stop blaming yourself for that incident, that asshole was to be blamed for that and he got what he deserved. And I did that for my own satisfaction, it had nothing to do with you, you bastard. I’m already over with that, it’s about time you should get over it as well. And It isn’t even your fault. You are the victim, you fool. Why is the victim blaming himself, you bastard?

FY, you would probably be fine, not fine as in completely fine, but fine as in doing not so well but maybe okay. FY, you are strong, mentally and emotionally. You are the toughest among us all. That time when I screwed up our chance in our first final appearance, you never blame me, you didn’t even cry. Everyone cried, even Misery secretly escape to the toilet to cry alone and yet you didn’t cry. You told me that we would crawl back to the final next year and you would do the same thing again, putting your bet on me again. You was an insane bastard, you know that? You put that kind of pressure on a seventeen years old kid. Who does that? Good luck finding someone to substitute for my position, I know that it would be hard because I’m too awesome. It’s hard to find someone else to replace the best ROC player in the world, but eventually, you will find that person. Just like that time you find me. Good luck brother, I will leave my dad and Alice to your able hands, please look after them and take care of them for me. Sister in law, please take care of him for me, he has to deal with a lot of problem in his life, please stay by his side and take a good care of him.

Dad, you are ever the stubborn old fool who refused to open your heart to love another woman. Moved on from the death of mom that you are, but you would never again open your heart for love toward any other woman. You swore to love mom and mom alone, nothing wrong with that, but you are such a sentimental old fool, and somehow I really admire you for that dad. Dad, please try to move on this time as well. Channel your pain and grief to create another masterpiece like that time when you moved on from mom’s death, try to do the same this time. FY, Su Ming and Alice, they would take care of you dad, I know they would. So find yourself a club or something, talk to people and don’t shut yourself inside your room ever again. I love you a lot, dad. I really love you, I wish that I have sat down and talked to you a lot more than that instead of fooling around one party after another. I love you dad.

Alice, I can only pray that the gods will protect you from that monster motor bike of yours. I can never stop you from taking it out for a ride and neither you yourself, so be extra careful as usual. Also, maybe, it’s time for us to move on from each other... I think. Our relationship has been a rollercoaster since the beginning. I should have become your actual boyfriend and not fake boyfriend back then… I truly wish for you to be happy Alice… Please move on and open up your heart to another man, someone who is better than me, someone who would never ever go and put his dick inside every woman that caught his eyes the way I do, someone who would love you more than I ever did. I love you Alice, I really do… but we have to move on… both of us. I really love you Alice. I hope that the manager of your condominium block would not be so stupid to show you that orchid pavilion. It would only make you grieve. This is goodbye Alice. I want to put you inside my arms and kiss you one last time Alice, but this is goodbye, I hope you will live a better and happier life without me.

Goodbye everyone.

Fearless silently said his farewell to his friends and family and let go of that picture into the flame. He watched it burn and suddenly, he thrust his hand into the fire, taking that burning picture out. He held it to his chest and quietly sobbed. It was always painful to say goodbye.