The Bathrobe Knight (17 page)

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Vitality: 87 + 25

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Spirit: 51 + 0

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Concentration: 82

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Phys Damage Res: 44%

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Elemental Damage Res: 42%

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Increased Speed: 29.6%

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Maximum Hit Points: 1430

I don’t know what my Race is, but it is so rigged. I never have to pick between physical and magical resistances, or HP and Damage. My Race needs a nerf. That said, the importance of items versus stats is definitely evident. With just a few good items my stats are way higher than they should be. Oh well, time to stop gawking and get to work. I’ve only got an hour or so until the townspeople are going to be waiting for me.

He went out north to where he had heard of lowbies hunting Ogres. Their levels weren’t high initially, barely reaching level 15, but their HP and Damage were supposedly very high. That was for the better though--he needed scalable mobs.

He rushed at the first one with his Burriza’s Blade, but as soon as it saw him, it swung a wide arc at Darwin. Darwin dodged back and tried to get in again, but once more the wide arc came at him. He knew if he kept dodging back and trying to dash forward before the Maul the Ogre was carrying came swinging back, he’d probably never get in close enough for a swing though, so this time he dove, sliding face first under the Maul’s arc like a baseball player reaching for home plate. It worked. No Damage. The problem was he couldn’t stand up fast enough and the Ogre swung his Maul straight down at him, forcing him to roll to the side and do a pushup to pop up before the second Maul hit the ground right where he had been lying.
Crap, what now?
he thought, moving an inch to the side while the monstrous ten-foot Ogre began his horizontal Maul attack again.
Screw it!
Closing the distance as fast as he could with his Burriza’s Blade aimed right at the Ogre’s throat.

• Critical Hit! You have done 615 Damage!
  
• You have gained 1 Soul Charge.
  
• You have gained 15 EXP.
  

615? Wow, he actually has Damage reduction. That hit should have done 984 Damage.  
Darwin thought, impressed with his choice of monster. Even at only 615, it was still enough to count as fatal Damage.

Darwin then activated his Racial Skill, Demonic Command, for the first time and used it on the dead Ogre. It caused the Ogre to shrug off its fatal wound and stand back up as if it had never been hit in the first place.
And they made fun of me for my red eyes as a kid.
He smiled at the creation. The Ogre did indeed look just like it had when he first approached it except for one crucial detail. It now had a strange tattoo-like pattern over its left eye and its eyes had changed from brown to red.
Is it a Zombie? Can the Ogre finally realize it needs a brain?

• Please name your Monster.
  

   
Name him ZombOgre01

• ZombOgre01 has been successfully named.
  

   
Add ZombOgre01 to Party.

• ZombOgre01 has been added to your party.
  

Darwin inspected ZombOgre01 in the Party Window, Level 14+5. Not bad, but not where he needed him to be. He captured another Ogre, ZombOgre02, and then decided since he still had time before the meeting, he would make the most of it. Between when he started and when he left he had managed to raise ZombOgre01 and ZombOgre02 to level 27+5 each. Since the soul charges built at a rate of one per kill no matter what he killed, he had taken the two ZombOgres to kill small woodland creatures as quick as he could gather them. Sometimes killing as many as a dozen in a minute if he could reach them quick enough. Every swing of the blade was a kill.

The most amusing part though was the faces of the townspeople and remaining Guards when they saw him approaching with two red-eyed Ogres. Before they had spotted him and his two companions, they were just standing around, silent as if speaking was a sin and smiling was blasphemy, but when they saw him their faces lit up, just not with a smile. Instead it was a pale panic that spread through them at the sight of his two ZombOgres approaching.

“Umm, Sir. Are you sure it’s safe to be traveling with that type of company?” Justin Yoo said, the first to voice the concern that the group was sharing.

“These?” Darwin said, looking at the two ZombOgres and then back at the few hundred townspeople carrying belongings and the seven Guards that remained of Valcrest, unsure of what to say to put their minds at ease. Then he decided to just wing it and just explain properly, “These are my slaves, can’t you see their red eyes now? Their souls are mine.”  

The whole group broke out in whispers. Darwin couldn’t catch them all, but he definitely heard a few pieces that made him frown. “He’s the devil who killed an entire army of White-Horns with just a Spoon?” “So it really is him, the hero of the Spoon.” “Look at the red eyes! He really did steal their souls . . .” they kept whispering among each other.
I’m right here you know? I can hear you . . .

“Quiet!” one of the Guards whose name he didn’t know spoke up, silencing the crowd. “The Captain has commanded us here for a reason, and I’m sure he doesn’t want us burning daylight jibber-jabbering. Now file in, stay quiet, and await orders. I don’t want to be here when night falls, and I don’t want the Spoon King upset because we were too rowdy.”

Darwin was about to complain about the new nickname, the Spoon King, but the Guard had done it. He had silenced the crowd and even gotten them to tighten up and even stand taller.

“Whats your name, soldier?” Darwin asked, deciding it was best he capitalize on this Guard’s charisma.

“Alex, Captain,” the tall young Guard said, standing at attention. “Second Lieutenant of the Western Scout’s Division.”

“Alex. This is where we are heading. Take your Scouts and put a formation around the townspeople during the trip to make sure they don’t get attacked or hurt along the way. If anyone goes missing or gets lost, make sure they make it to this location by nightfall.”

“Yes, sir.”

“As for the rest of you, sorry your town is gone, but you need to trust me when I say we can’t stay there. That group broke the only semblance of defense Valcrest proper had, and other groups will come to clean up what they didn’t kill. We can try to get the rest of your belongings in the future, but it’s in everyone’s best interest if we don’t show up on anyone’s radar for the moment. Now, does anyone have any questions or complaints with that?”

No one said a thing. They all knew it. It was one more reason on top of the dead family and friends that when he had approached them they had looked like a funeral procession more than a mob of townspeople. The air was still sick with bleak sorrow at the loss they had just suffered, but at the very least Darwin was determined to take away their fear.

Qasin:

The King stood alone on the battlefield surrounded by scores of dead Black-Wings. The bodies of countless dead Vampires, Dragonwings, Succubi and Incubi littered the battlefield, and the King found himself truly happy for once. No soldiers were lost. No men were killed.
My Kingdom is safe, the battle is won and not a single life has been lost, save for these poor wretches.

“Well fought, Your Majesty,” Anthony said to the King who was still admiring his handiwork.

“We’re not here to win a war. We’re here to win peace and an ally,” the King responded. “Now, fetch me a towel.”

“I’m not sure slaughtering their people by yourself is the right way to go about it.” Anthony squirmed as he stepped over the dead bodies.
He does that a lot. One thousand and thirty-five men died because of that fool’s betrayal, and yet he squirms and twists at the sight of blood? Pathetic.

“I couldn’t move my own troops. It would have given them a hole in our defensive line to attack through,” he reasoned, taking the towel from the messenger and wiping the sweat off his face before using the towel to clean the blood off his swords. “This was the only way to do it.”

“I meant I don’t think it’s in your best interest to kill them. It’ll be harder to get them to ally with you.”

“A man is less likely to sell his house when his finances are good and stable. He must either experience a windfall or a loss. A windfall will promise them greener pastures than their home currently offers, and the loss will make them look for fixes wherever there are fixes to be made. In terms of a Kingdom there is no windfall. Kings don’t often sell land to acquire more of it. That leaves me only one option--to hand them a loss.”

“Your Majesty is saying that their Kingdom is the house, and you mean to have them sell it?”

“You could say that.”

“But what if you die in battle? Would that not be dire for the Kingdom?” Anthony asked.  

“It’s not likely. The Black-Wings were fearsome on the field because of their ruler, the Black Dragon who united them in ages past. The fools, in their brilliance, deposed him. Now, their strongest is no tougher than the capital’s Knights, and their ruler is a council of baby whelps, Vampires and Incubi.”

They deposed him at the same time I was supposed to be deposed. I haven’t received word yet, but it seems they also deposed the Axe-King around that time too. Were all the monarchs supposed to fade into oblivion at the same time? Were we who forged the Kingdoms and united our races to die at the hands of the very people we serve? All so that a few people could gain power at the cost of hundreds of lives?
the King thought.

“Then why does Your Majesty wish them to be an ally?”

“Because I cannot be everywhere at once, and I might be deposed myself one day. Before that happens I must unite these lands until the only wars it sees are silly merchant conflicts over lumber prices.”

“I understand. Then I shall pray to the god of war for your success in battle.”

“Thank you. Now, about the Black-Wing Messenger the Council was using to conduct their dirty business. Did you manage to locate him?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. I can arrange a meeting at your convenience.”

“Good. Set up a rendezvous at the end of the week, and pick one of their border towns to do it in, a few days east of where we are now. I need to hand them a few more losses before we meet. Also, arrange for the Scouts to finish the report on the White-Horns. It’s urgent that I am brought up to speed before the meeting.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Anthony said, bowing before he departed. The King had grown accustomed to only talking through Anthony as of late. Given how many soldiers and Guards in the capital must have known something of the Council’s plans, and none had reported anything, he was slowly starting to distrust everyone. But not Anthony. With the man’s daughter and wife held conveniently under his protection, he knew he could trust Anthony no matter how spineless the poor boy turned out to be.

He started walking east to where the next battlefield awaited him--where he could kill again. He had suppressed his smile while Anthony was around--it wasn’t very kingly after all--but the thought of the fight to come brought it back to his face.
I will kill them, and spare my people. I will murder them so that my men will never have to die for petty politics again. If I kill enough of them, then my Kingdom will never see its armies march to their deaths again.  

Valerie:

Valerie took a deep breath before she dove again. The missions she had been assigned, to clean up the heretics South of the town, kept respawning two to three times a day. The problem was she couldn’t get any NPCs to join her. Two players, Daniel and Mclean, were the only members in her party helping her out. They didn’t join her because she was a Herald of the Dawn; they joined her because she was the only one with a quest when they were about to fly off.

“So, if you’re a Herald, how come you don’t have any NPCs with you to help us out?” Danielle asked, unknowingly rubbing salt in Valerie’s wound.

“I don’t know how to recruit them . . .” she answered honestly. “My former Herald, Tim, didn’t really have any advice on the subject. Just said I needed to learn how to drink.”

“I can teach you how to drink sometime, but have you thought about posting on the forum for more players? I didn’t even know there was a player-run squad. Now we can just do one quest after the other and not have to wait for the Herald to dole one out.”

“Yeah, I love this EXP. Is it just me or does a three-person party rake in way more than the usual ten-person one?” Mclean asked, landing her dive on one of the Fire-Walkers as she spoke. Valerie was happy Mclean had started her dive before her: the front diver was always targeted first.

“I don’t think it’s just you. The EXP has been great. We may hit 40 before the war starts,” Daniel said, landing his dive cleanly too.

“You may be right about the levels, but let’s not forget we are doing this for the Sun God Empire,” Valerie said, landing her dive with two blades right into one of the heretic Fire-Walkers.

• Critical Dive! You have done 236 Damage!
  
• Critical Dive! You have done 236 Damage!