An Empty Life: Darkened Path

[Entry: Dark Beginnings]

A crimson line appeared on my arm, scattering red light from the contact. I stepped forward and swung my blade, stopping the following attack by knocking my foe's weapon aside.

An opening.

My opponent, a swordsman with scraggly brown hair, donned in light armor, paled. He scrambled backwards, straining to pull his weapon back in time. Too slow.

A soft thump sounded out as I buried my blade in his chest. The swordsman looked into my eyes, and sighed. It seemed he had resigned himself to his fate. The colored bar above his head shrunk, changing from blue to yellow. Soon, it would turn to red and then empty out. At that point, he would cease to exist, erased by this world's cruel death penalty.

"I should never have pursued you, War Machine." The swordsman shook his head, a forced smile on his face. He had perhaps a few more seconds to live.

I gave him a tight nod, my face a blank mask. "Yes. You should not have done that. From the start, I-"

The swordsman shattered into a million pieces of light, gone before I could finish speaking.

And then I was alone, once again. I sighed, and sheathed my blades. Thirteen. That was the thirteenth player who had been foolish enough to raise their sword against me. The thirteenth soul that was erased by my hands. The thirteenth death that I could have prevented.

A display appeared in the center of my vision, showing me the results of the battle. Experience points and items were listed in the center with purple font. In another small window, a message appeared, saying that my Cursed Seal skill had increased in level.

I grimaced. Since that day when I fought with Klein and his guild, killing the scum that had later appeared, I had kept to the shadows. Their deaths had not been left unnoticed, as they were part of the "Army", a prominent guild based on the first floor. Immediately after I left, their names had appeared on the monolith that recorded all player deaths. "Killed by War Machine"... that was the epitaph left by their names.

At that point, it was already well known that War Machine was a player. Consequently, a bounty appeared for anyone with information of this first "Player Killer".

Dozens of arrogant, desperate, or angered players were on the prowl for my head. The only saving grace was that they my name wasn't attributed to that title. The only facts they had were that this War Machine commonly used steel swords and drew hordes of monsters to him.

Consequently, I changed my equipment, favoring Unmarked Blade more often, but I couldn't help the fact that Cursed Fate drew monsters. And so it was that thirteen players found themselves on the other side of my sword. Fortunately, after the names of the first group pursuing me appeared on the wall, there were less pursuers.

Most of the players that saw me kept a wide berth. It was only the foolish, the brave, or the vengeful that still sought me. It was now common knowledge that you avoided groups of monsters, lest you fall prey to the War Machine.

Fall prey because, even if I didn't want to fight them, the moment their blades were drawn, Deathmatch sealed their fate.

I shook my head and sheathed my weapons, a Damascus long sword and Unmarked Blade, along my sides. I took another moment to store the long sword back in my inventory, and then took a look around my surroundings.

Rolling emerald hills spread out in all directions. In the distance, I could see a small rustic village alongside a river that cut across the plains. That was the central hub for this floor, "Versailles". A dusty road led to it, but at the moment nobody used it. Not surprising, considering the fact that night would fall within the hour.

I kept my gaze on the village for a moment longer, briefly wondering if any of the players there knew the one I had slain. I sighed and let the thought drift from my mind. I had chosen this path, so there was no point in regretting it.

I turned around and headed along the path I travelled before I was interrupted. An obsidian tower, appearing more like a fortress of medieval times than a natural construct like the previous floors, loomed before me.

After three months, the front line had advanced to the eighth floor. On this date, February 6th, the Clearers had mapped approximately 75% of the boss dungeon. Before long, it would be time for another raid, with the Army, Knights of Blood, and other players gathered together in one assault.

On this date, February 6th, I had mapped 100% of the boss dungeon, and finally finished my preparations. My equipment was repaired to their full durability. My crystals were well stocked and organized for easy access. I had decreased the time it took for me to access the equipment and item menus to change and use items to a fraction of a second. All my skill points were allocated, and my level had reached twenty.

On this date, I would solo the floor boss and leave my name carved in stone as the slayer of the Ninth Floor Boss.

I stopped before the large, iron double doors that were the entrance to the obsidian tower. My eyes flicked to the bottom right corner. 7PM. By this time, only the most hardcore or foolish players would remain. That was fine. I had made my decision, and would not go back.

Today, I would slay a giant. I pushed past the doors, both creaking forward ominously, and then set out along the shadowy hallways. Immediately, an armored knight stood before me, sword already glittering with the light of a sword skill.

"And so it begins." I muttered those words with an air of finality and rushed forward, meeting the incoming attack with my own.

This date would mark either the end, or a new beginning for me. Either way...

This empty life of mine could finally come to an end.

A/N: And here is the start of Volume Two for "An Empty Life", following Kisen's actions from "An Empty Life: Hollow Desires". Epic boss fight upcoming... along with an encounter with the front line.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you again soon.