There was a small sacrifice stone reflecting a distorted miniature image of the moon not far away from me.

I snatched it from the ground. Could I take away the ability of the players to communicate through messages?

“I want to stop the players from messaging each other,” I spoke to the stone, wondering if it would respond. “What would you take as a sacrifice from me for that?”

And the sacrifice stone spoke back in a soft feminine voice.

“There are many things that you can give up: a) One of your two lives. b) Your ability to communicate with monsters. c)It is night, hence it is harder for the players to find the door. You can make it day and that will be your sacrifice. d) Your ability to transform into different monsters. e)You can recover just by consuming a health vial. You can sacrifice this ability too.”

Those were some pretty hardcore sacrifices to make.

I crouched low, as I pondered, not to be detected by unwanted eyes.

Turning the night into day would not be a very bad sacrifice, but then the waters of the pond would be crystal clear and it would be a bit too easy for any nearby player to see it.

Sacrificing a life or the ability to transform were unacceptable. I definitely wanted to be in touch with my monsters. Could I sacrifice the ability to get well after drinking a health vial?

I would just have to be extra careful that none of the players see me. And in case they do attack, I could always transform and protect myself.

The players needed to be stopped from messaging each other and communicating smoothly. Otherwise conquering the tower would be a cushy job for them.

It was no easy decision, but there was no way around it. No more instantaneous recovery with a trustworthy health vial.

“I sacrifice my ability to recover by drinking a health vial,” I said to the sacrifice stone.

The stone glowed very bright, and I looked around warily, frightened that it was attracting attention.

“Your sacrifice has been accepted,” the stone said, dimming. “The players can no longer message one another as long as they are in the tower.”

“In the tower? So if I go out, and if I am injured and if I drink a health vial, would I be able to recover?” I asked curiously.

“You will be,” the sacrifice stone replied.

But then a rather rowdy message box wiggled into my vision, causing me to drop the shiny stone. Who could it be, but the sage!

Do you want to keep on playing or do you want to get out of Dharti?

Look, if you are able to protect this tower, you shall get your legs. If not you shall lose it. Defend this tower with your life.

Okay, that put things into perspective.

The message of the sage faded. Of course it was a very one way communication with the sage. It was pointless to try and give him any reply, unless perhaps if he wanted it, and he clearly didn’t.

I picked up the magical stone again. I was not done with my experiments.

“Is there any sacrifice that can make it impossible for the players to ever find the door that leads to the upper level?” I asked the stone.

“Yes,” the sacrifice stone replied, and my heart leapt at the possibility.

“Well then tell me!”

“You can sacrifice this quest.”

That felt like a teacher smacking you on the face with a book.

All right, if I asked stupid questions I would only get stupid answers. But then, I didn’t have to permanently stop the players from finding the door, did I? A few hours would suffice.

“Is there any sacrifice that I can make because of which the players will take at least five hours to find any of the doors in any of the levels?” I asked.

Five hours multiplied by five levels would be twenty five hours, and I only needed to hold the attackers for a maximum of twenty four.

“You can sacrifice your command on the monsters and become a simple evilun,” the sacrifice stone replied. “But even that would only stop the players from finding the doors for a maximum of two and a half hours in any of the levels.”

No, that wouldn’t do. Half a day would be still left even if the players spent two and a half hours in each of the remaining levels. And without the monsters to create hindrances for them, it would be easy as pie for the players to win.

I had done enough questioning. It was better if I tried to find the pond instead. I placed the sacrifice stone back down.

My monsters had so far not found any sign of the pond, or else they would have reported it

The sound of something shifting caught my attention. I strained my ears to locate which direction the noise was coming from. I even messaged my monsters to know if any one of them was close to me, but all of them were away apparently.

It had to be a player.

I squatted to make myself less obvious. I just hoped that the player—or players— had not heard my chat with the sacrifice stone.

I didn’t look forward to any confrontation. No health vials to replenish lost health this time.

Footsteps.

Sounded like they belonged to only one person. The moonlight hardly allowed eyes to be of any use. And then—

Plop!

Immediately a cry tore the silence.

Someone had fallen into a body of water.

Water i.e pond.

Shit.