63

The Ghostblade

The forest continued ahead, and the land became rocky and uneven. Trails led up and down to plateaus overlooking the trees. As Rian made his way through, checking his map to see the areas filling themselves in, he found himself at a dead end. The footpath had led to where two capped players were dueling in the shallows before a waterfall. Rian hadn’t heard them over the roar of the water. The noise—the only apparent sound in the caverns—had led him here out of curiosity.

As he’d expected, most players were training for the Sacred Tournament with the extra time afforded by the Rift.

Rian headed back the way he’d come. By the time he found where the footpath diverged north, he felt like something was wrong.

You’ve been inflicted with Lv. 40 Poison! (Time remaining: 1 minute)

You’ve been inflicted with Lv. 40 Bleeding! (Time remaining: 1 minute)

You’ve been inflicted with Lv. 40 Daze! (Time remaining: 1 minute)

He nearly keeled over. It felt like he was back in Nostdal, half-drunk with Kat. But when he looked at his palms and arms, blood was seeping out of wounds that he didn’t remember getting. Snake bites had appeared all over his skin.

“What’s…happening to me?”

Corvis narrowed his eyes. “As I said, there’s no going back. Space and time are more tenuous here. Walk the same path twice, and you risk walking through the edge of an instance and severing yourself upon it.”

Rian’s HP bar had started ticking away. Through the daze of the status effects, he tried to gauge the damage he’d take over the next minute before the effects expired. His heart skipped as he saw how fast his HP was depleting.

Within a few seconds he would be dead.

He started panicking, the feeling crawling up him to rip away at his sanity. Do I have any antidotes? Healing potions, I have to—

When he opened his inventory, he was so dizzy that he couldn’t see straight. He fell to his knees, felt blood roll down his arms, face, and chin as droplets pattered the ground.

He focused on his breaths for a moment, quelling the thoughts, and then remembered. There was one other thing he could still do.

He sat and closed his eyes. As Meditation activated, its healing effect suffused his body and began to work against the damage-over-time. He couldn’t see his HP bar, but he could feel the general state of his body—a sense of well-being versus unease, clashing against each other.

Meditation’s healing still wasn’t enough.

Your HP, MP, and Stamina have been restored!

All status effects nullified!

All skill cooldowns reset!

Corvis sighed, then said, “Making me intervene this early, are you?”

Rian opened his eyes and stared in disbelief. All the blood had vanished. The wounds had closed—in their place, hundreds of shining lines threaded themselves through his body.

In Corvis’s hand was a small, glowing object shaped like a sewing needle—every line in Rian’s body stemmed from its eye. In Corvis’s other hand appeared a dagger of light, and he severed the multitude of threads connected to the needle’s eye in a single cut. All the threads vanished.

“Was that…a class skill?” Rian said.

As if to answer the question, a skill window started to appear. Corvis flicked it and it shattered. Fragments of light faded to nothing.

“Let’s not dawdle over such things,” Corvis said. “My true class is irrelevant.” He hesitated as if to consider something. “But you can think of me as an advanced healer.”

So not a demonic businessman after all, Rian thought. More like a demonic tailor. Maybe that was his real class. The needle motif was plain enough.

“You just saved my life,” Rian said. “All this time, I…I thought you didn’t care.”

“I shouldn’t. But…” Corvis looked away. “Well. If you’re truly on a doomed path. We should see it to the end, yes? Together.”

Corvis held out a gloved hand, then looked down at Rian with something resembling camaraderie in his eyes.

Rian took his hand. The sheer ease with which Corvis pulled him to his feet told him enough: as he’d thought, Corvis was hiding his strength.

Corvis’s trust in you has increased!

Percent progress to level 3 companionship: 50%

As reassuring as that was, Rian still had yet to face it: there was no way he could take down Ogrot at the end of all this—not without Corvis’s help. By the time Rian would face Ogrot again, he would need to max out his companionship level with Corvis and hope, pray, that it would mean the Loyalist would fight for him.

He wished it were as simple as getting close to death over and over and having Corvis save him to bolster their companionship, but doing that again would probably just piss Corvis off.

He had mentioned his conditions before. The Godslayer. Find, identify, and destroy the one responsible for all the disarray in Miracia. The one who had caused the Undoing itself. Deliver justice for Miracia, and all of Corvis’s power would be at Rian’s disposal.

How could that possibly happen between now and World 4? Defeat someone who could slay literal gods? Rian thought it over as he headed north again through the forests, but there was nothing to do but go forward.

Whenever it seemed like the footpaths were diverging toward potential dead ends, he stopped and used Meditate. Exiting the skill granted him a massive but temporary INT boost, and it felt as if he could see farther than what his eyes normally saw. Though he couldn’t physically see where each path went, the stat bonus gave him a vague sense of which one led further north.

He did his best to avoid more wandering players when he heard them nearby. Meditation helped even with that, allowing him to hear further when he used the skill.

Rian slowed down, crept forward. A man was sitting on the road ahead, surrounded by a light haze. He was dressed in a samurai’s garb with sashes and scarves enveloping his figure, his hair slicked back and tied into a short ponytail. Nestled into his arm was a curved, glossy scabbard. The hilt of a katana stuck out atop it.

Just as Rian was about to retreat into the forest to find a way around him, the man turned his head in Rian’s direction. Dangling from his mouth was a long pipe. Tendrils of smoke drifted around him.

The man chuckled. “Almost got past me.”

Rian froze.

The man casually removed the pipe from his mouth. “That’s right,” he said, blowing smoke with each word. “No point in running. You turn your back now and you’re dead before you know it.”

Even Corvis seemed worried. “What is he doing here?”

“Might as well come on out,” the man continued, casually. “Share a moment or two with me before I send you back to the Overworld. It’s the least you can do.”

Rian stepped out onto the road, and the man’s stat page automatically revealed itself.

Yatagara

Level 40 Ghostblade (NPC)

Alignment: Yindra

Companionship Level: -1 (Adversary)

Difficulty: S (Sacred)

Rian groaned. Not again. What was Corvis’s companionship perk good for?

“Another Loyalist invading my session?” Rian said, sounding calmer than he felt. “Just my luck.”

“Oh, no,” Yatagara said. “I’ve been here a while, unfortunately. Seems I’ve lost my way. Quite easy to lose track of time.” He spoke with such calmness that it was beginning to disarm Rian. He seemed much more relaxed than Altrexis, at least. “I didn’t actually hear you, to be honest. You’re pretty good at sneaking around, Mr., uh…”

“Cobalt.”

Yatagara’s eyes widened. “Eh. So you’re Cob.” He looked him up and down, then took another drag from his pipe. “It is you, isn’t it? I can sense him with you. I probably wouldn’t have noticed otherwise, now that I think about it.”

Considering at first whether he should, Rian glanced at Corvis, who was merely looking upon Yatagara with a mixture of impatience and disinterest.

Yatagara closed his eyes and cradled his pipe. “I thought so. It’s been a while, Corvis. How’s the babysitting job treating you?”

Corvis didn’t answer. He merely looked up and away as if to roll his eyes.

Smirking, Yatagara glanced at Rian. “Did he roll his eyes? I’m assuming he did. Well. Figures you’d get recruited for that job, Corv. Things are getting desperate, and we’re all in disarray for the most part. Altrexis has been pushing himself too hard, and Ossy is still…well, you know how she is.” He shifted around. “Do you really think this time will be different?”

This time? Rian thought. But Corvis still didn’t answer.

“Excuse me,” Rian said. “Is there…something going on?” Yatagara raised an eyebrow and took a puff from his pipe. “Like between you guys—the Loyalists—and…I don’t know, Yindra and the players?”

No one answered.

“I feel like there’s a conspiracy happening, almost,” Rian continued. “Something I’m being left out of.” Actually, it’s been that way from the start, hasn’t it?

Yatagara glanced aside of Rian. “What have you told him, Corv?”

Corvis crossed his arms.

“Nothing?” Yatagara said. He chuckled more wildly this time. “What, are you afraid to interfere this time? I know how it must feel. Failing over and over again, watching all your efforts go to waste. No wonder you’ve changed your stance.”

Rian really didn’t like the sound of that, each time he heard it. “What do you mean, ‘this time?’”

Frowning at being interrupted, Yatagara said, “Listen, kid. Guess I’ll have to fill you in. This isn’t the first time we’ve all been down this road.” He pointed with his pipe as if to command Rian. “Choosing someone from Earth to come here on behalf of Yindra. Branding someone with her Mark.”

“You mean I’m not like…” Rian was almost embarrassed to phrase it this way. “A chosen one?”

Yatagara laughed. “Chosen, sure. But the one? Don’t you understand anything about how it works here, kid? You had to’ve, by now.”

Rian’s breath caught. Am I not the only one with the Mark? Then…

Then there were almost certainly three others. Three more players with the Mark. The rule of four never seemed to fail.

“But I thought Yindra could see the future,” Rian said. “Why would there be more than one of us?” …Of me? Are there other Rians, running around? Were there other Rians before? “Wasn’t all of this predetermined?”

“Not anymore, unfortunately,” Corvis said. “Not perfectly. Not since the Godslayer intervened. Once, it had been possible. But now…”

Yatagara pulled a pocket watch from his sleeve and examined it. “It’s time. I’ll be late if I don’t catch up now.” He smirked at Rian, gave him a two-fingered salute. “Yindra’s waiting for us all, yeah? Let’s give her a good show.” He stood. With his mouth closed, he ran his tongue over his teeth as he looked Rian up and down. “Oh, right, your soul’s aligned with Goam and Altir, is it? A Monk, eh? I see.”

Tension ratcheted up a notch through Rian’s body.

“Maybe I should spare Corvis the trouble and set those pieces of them free,” Yatagara said, resting a hand on the hilt of his katana. “Whoever’s going to be the victor, seems mighty unlikely that it’d be you, anyway.” Then he relaxed, moved his hand away from the sword, and smiled. “But. Seems like you’re on good terms so far. So I’ll let you pass.”

Rian exhaled in relief.

“As in, I’ll give you a head start.” Yatagara tossed Rian a metallic ring.

You have obtained (1) Ezre’s Dimensional Key!

Rian caught it just as a flash of light cut through his vision. He glanced up, feeling as if something invisible had passed through him.

Yatagara had already drawn his sword. True to his class, there was no blade on his weapon. Just an empty hilt.

Wisps of silver fog gathered where Yatagara’s blade should’ve been. Ghostly faces appeared upon the mists, warping as they spun to form a translucent sword. Yet instead of swinging, Yatagara merely returned the spectral katana to its sheath.

Wait, Rian thought, did he just do the anime thing—

Yatagara’s Six-fold Slash has cut through your temporal energy!

Your Spirit has been reduced to 0!

World 3 time limit reduced! (-6 hours)

Time remaining: 10 hours, 45 minutes (Overworld).

“That head start I was talking about,” Yatagara said, “it started about six hours ago, by the way.” He seemed to get distracted. “Well, two hours, actually, depending on your perspective. But I digress.”

He drew his sword again, and dozens of pale spirits shot out from the arc, ghostly faces writhing as they swarmed toward Rian.

Casting Earthen Resonance, Rian fled into the denser forests ahead.

As he went, he heard Yatagara’s calm, fading voice behind him. “See you soon,”—the sound of a katana being sheathed with a clack—“Seamster.”