Chapter 1: Alone
A warm breeze blew past 4 figures, who stood in a circle on an outcrop of volcanic rock. They were in the Barren Firelands of Muspelheim. The beings were a massive armored warrior, a centipede like creature, a hooded elf, and a demoness wearing something that resembled a nun's habit. The sky above them was thick with dark ashen clouds and the earth around them was a wasteland of scorched soil and parched gravel. In this lower world of Yggdrasil, an ever-present fire DoT (Damage Over Time) status effect blanketed this world, deterring any poorly-prepared player from exploiting its hidden riches.
"C'mon Max, don't be like this." The voice that broke the silence came from the towering armor-clad warrior. The voice was subtly tinged with distress and sounded like that of a man in his late 20s, unfitting for such a massive being.
"Skar, I just want to have some time to myself before the game shuts down. I've been with the guild for a decade and I've never asked for much. Please. Just give me these last few hours to reminisce by myself." A chat bubble popped up as the centipede-like creature spoke. While its spindly limbs waved about as words escaped its mouth, its jaws were unmoving. This voice, also male, was that of someone older and fatigued.
After a short period of silence, the warrior, Skar, replied.
"Fine. I won't push you to come since you're so against it. Won't even try to guilt you into coming either. Promise." A tiny fleck of disappointment flickered across the tone of his voice. The warrior's arms moved as he spoke, almost as if his body was trying to hide the tone.
"Thank you, Skar." If he had caught the underlying meaning of Skar's words, he did not show it. "Bye."
"See ya Max."
The centipede-man turned around and hurriedly broke away from the group, heading towards an unknown destination.
Another wordless minute passed.
"I, umm, well…" The devil priestess spoke softly, as if to merely push away the silence rather than outright breaking it. Her voice was soft and kind, which fit well with her demure appearance. "I kinda also want to be somewhere else when the game ends. Uhm, the guild hall is great but erm, I really want to see the Gardens of Tranquility in Asgard for myself at least once before this all ends. B-but you guys can join me if you guys want!" Her gentle face was unmoving as she spoke, with only the appearance of a chat bubble indicating speech.
"Oh…" Skar replied, this time with sadness too deep to fully hide. "Erm." He fidgeted as he searched for the words he was looking for. "It's fine Lily, I'll miss you, but I won't stop you from doing what you want. Our guild was never about ironclad dogma anyways." His words were righteous but his voice faltered, but only for a moment.
"…Thank you… For, well, everything. I'll join you when we'll meet again in Yggdrasil 2. I promise." Lily slowly turned away as she spoke. "Again, thank you for everything. Goodbye Skar." As she finished her last word, she walked away from the group. She silently cast a world transportation spell and, after a short moment, blinked out of sight.
'Goodbye Lily'
And then there was 2.
"So Caleb, it's been a while, eh?" The elf referred to the warrior as Caleb, his real name rather than his character name, Skar. His voice was also of someone in his late-20s, having only a dab of adolescent youth left in his voice.
"Yeah, Laz, er, Steven. I forgot that we're alone now, heh." Skar replied. "Haaaaah." He let out a long sigh, more to disperse pent up tension rather than to show mounting disappointment. "I can't believe that they would abandon the guild at a time like this. Though, I guess I can't really blame them."
"Well, people cope in different ways. Some might want to see something for the last time while others want to be alone. You seem to cope by reliving the good memories of our guild, no?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"I, on the other hand, I'm going to my favorite farming area in Jotunheim. You can join me if you'd li-"
"So you're not going to stay with me in the guild." His tone was that of a statement, not a question. "The guild that we've built up for over a decade. The one thing that brought hundreds of us together, that gave us something to see as our own and unified us as a community. And you're going to abandon it too?" There were heavy tones of anger and disappointment in his voice.
"Look, I'm sor-"
"Just go."
"I-"
"LEAVE!"
With that command, the elf ranger silently turned around and left, leaving the warrior by himself in the desolate wastes of a once highly contested world.
Tier Raid was an old guild that had been conceived a month after Yggdrasil first launched. Its first guild leader, a Tiger-man demihuman by the name FurFurLyfe, created this all-inclusive guild with only two goals in mind: To explore the depths of the world, and live on the precipice of danger. Any player of any race, whether human, demihuman, or heteromorph, was allowed to join, so long as they had shared his goals. Unfortunately, due to the incomprehensible size of the game, his first goal was never realized before he quit the game four years later. His second goal, however, had been achieved. A city filled with life was built within a world of savagery and death. The city was dubbed Sanctuary, for it was a bubble of respite within the danger-filled world of Muspelheim.
The leadership role of the guild changed hands many times, with some terms lasting only weeks while others lasted months. As with its leaders, the guild's primary goals changed as well. Elfonso, the second leader of the guild, lead warmongering conquests against other player controlled settlements within this world. All of them had catastrophically failed. Elfonso was voted out, and another leader was voted in. The cycle had been a few weak leaders who would be kicked out within a month of leadership, and then a good leader who voluntarily stepped down within a year, inadvertantly giving another incompetent leader a chance to take the position.
The cycle broke five years ago when the game had started to very slowly decline. Skar, who had been the guild's treasurer for over seven years, was voted in and brought the guild back up from a slump created by its previous leader. He planned renovations for certain parts of the guild city that increased self-sufficiency, while also organizing timetables and events that promoted guild activity and cohesion. Most importantly of all, he did not step down from this leadership role, preventing idiots from making decisions that would be detrimental to the guild. Even as the fires of passion faded away from the members of the guild, Skar had never allowed the guild to fall into irrelevance.
However, even his time as the guild master would come to an end.
22:49:23
Home at last.
Skar stood before the eastern gates of Sanctuary, the walled city built with the passion of over a hundred players all united under a single banner. It took years of harvesting materials, farming gold, and rigorous planning to construct such a resplendent city under these ashen skies.
The massive gates were forged from rare metals such as Supreme Trillium and Black Baronite, which many guilds would start wars over. Their lustrous surface glimmered as light struck their intricately carved surface. Depictions of anvils, fire, and dragons cover it, giving any observer the impression of industry and might. The uncracked and unstained ramparts that supported these gates stood tall, as if in defiance of the dead barrens that surrounded it. Each marble-like brick that made up the wall was flawless and perfectly shaped, giving off the feeling of absolute purity within these tainted lands. The architects and artists of the guild spared no effort in making this fortified oasis as beautiful as they conceivably could.
As soon as Skar touched the gate, the world wide DoT that had affected him was dispelled because he had entered a Rest Zone. These zones, while more common in other worlds, were as rare as pools of water in a parched desert within Muspelheim. Cities like this were holy havens due to the fact that NPC towns that provided this area of respite were little more than myths or wishful thinking within this world.
When he applied force to the decorated entrance, he had also acquired the city's Mana Tide Network buff from one of his guild's World Class Items (WCI).
As Skar pushed open the gates to the city, his city, he gazed upon the culmination effort from the weapon and armor-smiths of his guild. He had entered the Industrial District.
The Industrial District was rough and spartan, but still had a distinct aesthetic of its own. The buildings of this part of the city were wide and squat, usually built of either thick fire-baked bricks of dark burgundy or grey slabs of solid stone that looked as if they were carved from a mountain face. Every home had a forge in place of a hearth, while a dedicated forge building at the center the district contained hundreds. There was not a trace of wood or thatch in sight as it was illogical to use such flammable construction materials in an area where open flames were not possibilities, but ceaseless certainties.
As Skar walked through the district, heading north-west, he watched the denizens of the district perform their duties. There were two species of creatures that inhabited this district. The first of these were Demon-sworn Dwarves, a demihuman offshoot of regular Dwarves. Demon-sworn Dwarves, like their fairer skinned brethren, were short and had stocky builds. They are rarely without long beards and, according to lore, are inseparable from strong alcohol. Their disparity however came from some of their physical appearances, as their skin was dark like smoke, and the color of their hair rarely strayed from black and ashy grey. The whites of their eyes were a bright, glowing orange, and their pupils were slits fit for demons or reptiles. This industrious species, whose love for metalwork pushed them to auction off their own souls, worked the forges and anvils. Their movements were almost robotic as they rhythmically struck bars of hot metal, recently pulled from active forges, with heavy hammers and squeezed bellows to fuel the furnaces. None of these actions really helped them forge weapons though, as the programmers of the guild wrote in these actions in just to display the guise of a living city.
At every forge, at least one member of the other species stood by the fire. Black Draconoids, heteromorphic bipedal humanoid dragons, worked with the dwarves, spewing dark dragon-fire from their snouted maws into the forges. While this action was programmed into the AI because it simply looked cool, it actually had a tangible in-game effect on forged weapons and armor. When a Draconoid player was close to someone smithing, they had an option to assist the crafter during the crafting process. The end product, whether sword or plate, would have a small elemental bonus imbued within it. This bonus, while marginal, may make the difference between victory and defeat within a close duel. In a game where balance was as stupid as a brain-damaged ogre, a difference of single digits in stats should honestly not affect the outcome of battles.
Except that it did. One historical victory achieved due to these small differences was the crowning of a certain grasshopper-looking heteromorph player instead of an angel player as the World Champion, as the grasshopper apparently ended the duel with only double-digit Hp. A single additional point of damage over the course of hundreds of strikes could have changed the outcome of the duel. Small edges were not to be trifled with.
Deeper within the area, various short, bearded merchants shouted out pre-recorded lines in order to advertise their wares and attract customers. Another illusion cleverly crafted and seamlessly integrated within a life-like environment.
Skar walked through the entire district, silently observing the efficient workers expressionlessly pumping out weapons and armor of varying quality to be auto-sold to NPC merchants for income generation. Whenever a Legendary or Divine-class item was created, however exceedingly rare they may be, it would be instead sent to the treasury for review and storage.
'Why weren't they concerned?' He mused. 'Don't they understand that their lives, too, would end soon? No, of course not, they're still just AI, following the laws written into their heads. To be so blissfully unaware...'
"Haaah" Skar audibly sighed.
Walking as he was deep in thought, the fiery and clamorous Industrial District faded behind him. His character had unknowingly walked through the gate to the Northern District.
Skar stopped suddenly as he realized that now he stood within a city covered in silky webs.
Giant, spider-like insects skittered around him, causing him to momentarily panic. He relaxed shortly after, as he had remembered that he was still in the city, meaning that they were not hostile.
'I still hate this area. BlackMatterLives and his obsession with spiders, Ugh...' While Caleb never really had problems with spiders in the real-world, as they are practically extinct due to the dead biosphere of the planet, these digital ones eerily triggered some primal feeling of dread whenever they moved past him.
The Arachnoids, another heteromorphic species that inhabited the city, had pale blue carapaces which are sparsely covered with thick hairs like that of tarantulas. Their body seemed elongated compared to that of a normal spider. Frankly speaking, they looked like giant eight-legged ants. This species had eight thin appendages attached to their body, using its front pair as arms while using the three back pairs as legs. As these creatures could grow as large as the now extinct species known as elephants, they made for terrifying sights. Sometimes, their appearance alone had driven off weaker-willed invaders.
'I wouldn't blame 'em either. These things are what nightmares are made of.'
The Northern District, more commonly known as the Fabric District, was where the production of cloth and cloth armors took place within the guild. This section of the city follows the same protocols as the Industrial District when it comes its products. Sell lower tiers to vendors, keep higher tiers for storage.
The only buildings that this part of the city contained were ziggurats, and each of them were covered in thick layer of spiderwebs. These massive stepped structures looked like wide stone platforms layered on top of each other with a small pyramid-shaped building on top. One can only enter the structure from the top, with each layer of stone containing another floor. While each individual ziggurat looked similar, the interiors were spectacularly different depending on the purpose of the building. Residential ziggurats had many rooms filled with various pieces antiquated furniture and silken hammocks while the inside walls of vendor buildings were plastered with various tapestries and clothing.
The spider folk skimmed across the webbed city, moving between each of the ziggurats at great speeds while Skar casually walked through. He casually observed each building, trying to remember each one's purpose and interior structure without peeking inside. The legs of the Arachnoids made a rapid clacking sound as they skittered across stone roadways.
Skar quickened his pace, heading towards the Western District.
Within a few minutes, he caught sight of one of the district walls. As he moved close, past the last few ziggurats, he could see the district gate and its intricately carved surface. This gate had depictions of reptilian creatures with humanoid upper bodies and a snake-like lower body. Some were heavily armored, holding large tridents and curved war sickles while others wore almost almost nothing, holding jugs of water at an angle that allowed streams of water to pour out.
'HappyBolan sure loved engraving things. If I remember correctly, he was the dedicated artist when it came to detailing gates and other large, flat surfaces. Hmm, is he still working at that company?'
As he tried to remember the many details of his former comrade, he pushed open the gates and entered the Western District.
He beheld a city that was partially submerged in water. Its architecture was reminiscent of that of the ancient romans according to the district's main designer, a history buff known as Throatsie. Buildings of bleached concrete jutted out of the water, forming islands and corridors of solid ground amidst the sea of shimmering blue water.
The demi-human citizens of this district gracefully swam through the pristine aquamarine water, getting out only to enter the semi-submerged buildings. Inhabited by Naga and other fishfolk, most of the programmed actions that they execute occur under water. One of these actions includes swimming in formation just under the surface as players walk by the water, creating a dynamic environment.
This district, known as the Commerce District, supplied the guild with food items, mitigating some of the citizen upkeep of the city. Some craftable cosmetic items are also created here, allowing any visiting players to buy things that they could not make themselves.
Time was short.
Skar quickly made his way through this part of the city, heading towards the Southern District.
He pushed past the intrinsically carved gate and went into the decaying Alchemy District. As he jogged past the polluted slums, he glanced at the necromancers silently wandering throughout district, each with their own cadre of undead servants. Many ramshackle potion shops are strewn throughout this district, providing another source of income for Sanctuary. Hooded necromancers and pale Elder Liches would frequent the shops, acting as customers for their shopkeeping counterparts. Unliving Knights patrolled the district, acting as both a rudimentary defence force and an early warning signal in case of player incursions.
Skar hurried from the southern district to the entrance of the Grand Cathedral in the center of the city. This massive building, which was large enough to have its own "district", served as a fortified entrance to the underground portion of the guild city.
He pushed open the massive doors, which towered above even his own character. Images of angelic beings were engraved on these doors, emphasizing the sanctity of this particular location.
The interior of the building had a gothic design scheme. The floor was made of polished marble and every part of the interior had been delicately carved with various patterns. Candles and stained glass windows lit the hallways while the floor reflected the gentle light, lighting the interior even further.
Some robed and hooded figures were prostrating in some of the rooms while others were wordlessly walking through the halls. The entire building was often silent save for the rhythmic heavy footsteps of Cathedral Knights, which patrol the halls, wielding various holy weapons. Their steps echoed throughout the halls as Skar made his way towards the Throne Room, the largest and most spacious part of the cathedral.
He entered through another set of decorated doors into this room. This one was larger than a traditional football field, which were in use before biodomes became mandatory living areas. The ceiling was so high that the orange candlelight could not even illuminate the the top, giving the room an ominous undertone. Rows upon rows of empty pews were lined up facing a throne at the center of the room. Pontiff Sylvan sat upon it.
He looked like a young man in his 20s and wore a garb that seemed to be a mix of traditional church robes and clothing more suited for royalty. The man had long, pale-blonde hair and wore golden, thin rim glasses that accentuated his bright blue eyes. His skin was as pale as alabaster. He stared blankly in front of him, smiling a sweet smile towards nothing.
Skar walked through the room, each step echoing, and behind the throne to see the entrance to the lower level, the Cathedral Catacombs. He went down the unlit stairs, ever closer to his final destination.
The 1st underground floor of the city was a maze filled with bones. The walls were made up of nothing but human skulls and one could not take a step without hearing the crunch of brittle bones beneath their feet. This acted as both a psychological deterrent and a distraction tool, as invaders would be more likely to miss the various traps that fill this floor. There are five exits to this labyrinth, with only one of them leading deeper into the guild hall. All other exits lead to the underground portions of the city districts, each being incredibly perilous to navigate through, only to give invaders a dead end and forcing them to backtrack.
Knowing the layout of the catacombs like the back of his hand, Skar strode past the maze into the next floor.
The 2nd floor, the Sacred Forest, was filled with massive, ancient, deciduous trees. Like almost every other guild that owned their own guild building, Tier Raid had a nature based floor. With the environment in the real world being mostly a wasteland and the Arcology Wars giving people a new longing for the natural world, nature floors were often used as communal relaxation areas for guild members. This floor was also another source of food generation for city NPCs, further mitigating the drain on funds.
How much time was left?
Golden light flooded his senses as he entered the 3rd floor. His eyes adjusted to see a golden city floating above the clouds. The golden gates of heaven in front of him were guarded by angels and other holy beings. While he could run through this floor and make his way down using the elevator known colloquially as the "Hellevator", he had a spell that prevented fall damage. He silently cast the spell and prepared to jump off, a sudden thought crossed his mind.
'Not much time left.'
He had to skip this floor.
Skar used the guild ring of Tier Raid and teleported himself to the 4th floor.
He arrived in a land of permafrost and powdered snow. Scathing winds reduced visibility to a radius of less than 10 meters for those without specialist abilities or spells. Skar, however, knew where to go to reach Blackfrost Citadel.
The 4th floor was the only one that had been originally part of the dungeon that Tier Raid conquered. All others had been changed to suit tastes of its guildmates or renovated to increase resource output. The reason why this one was voted to stay unchanged was due to the desolate and frozen aesthetic of the environment matching one of the guild's WCIs, which was also ice themed.
This floor was meant to be where the guild held its last stand. The layout of the walls and fortification structure gave its defenders unparalleled tactical superiority. Many Frostguard Knights man the battlements and ballistae, ready to rain hell upon enemy invaders if they ever reach this level.
Their end, however, would not be in glorious combat.
Blackfrost Citadel was also the place where the Mana Tide Network had the strongest effect and where the guild designed Minute Guard System had the most coverage to flank and ambush. It was also where their lead AI programmer, BlackMatterLives, designed and programmed the NPCs to use the complex spider-tanking system.
Spider-tanking, named by the guild's greatest connoisseur of arachnids, fit surprisingly well.
The strategy consisted of having no dedicated healers in a given battle-group. All units, which were usually tanks, have one ranged instant heal spell that they would primarily use. The NPCs would focus on combat while healing any target that was focus-fired by enemies to prevent loss of effective fighting strength while still dishing out reasonable damage. This tactic worked best when used to stall enemies, as it is incredibly strong against smart target selection. Like threads of a spiderweb, healing spells would beam across various members of the group, instantly bringing up their hp whenever focus fire shifted.
While one group is tanking, another group consisting of ranged spellcaster NPCs volley off spells from long range. With the Mana Tide Network at its strongest, the spell casters will be capable of using their strongest spells without facing near-instant mana depletion, allowing for insane amounts of consistant DPS output on enemy forces. All of this combined, however, probably still would not be capable of defeating the massive raid party Ainz Ooal Gown faced. No one to this day knew exactly how they managed to wipe such a massive force.
'Hmmm, Ainz Ooal Gown… How's that guild doing now?' Skar thought as he walked through the frozen fortress.
While Tier Raid kept cordial relationships with the heteromorph-exclusive guild, communications between the guilds faltered when both started to lose members.
'I wonder what HeroHero might be doing now. Hmm, He's probably logged off since it's so late.'
With that thought, Skar crossed the icy courtyard and went through yet another set of incredibly detailed gates.
'HappyBolan really put in his all when dealing with his hobby, huh.'
Skar was almost there. He had arrived on the fifth and final floor, the Sanctum.
Like many other guild halls, the final floor of Sanctuary consisted of lavishly decorated rooms filled with furniture and decorations made from the finest materials. The floors were made of brilliantly polished marble tiles and the crystalline chandeliers that lit the rooms twinkled like stars as its own light refracted within it. Upon the walls hung multitudes of famous paintings from all ages. There were even some original works personally painted by the artists of the guild.
Needless to say, the entire floor was saturated with a regal atmosphere. Any invader who would make it past the 4th floor would be enraptured by this pocket world of grandiose luxury.
A torrent of indescribable feelings welled up within Caleb as he realised how quickly everything will disappear. How fast everything will become nothing. Why did this end have to come?
With another few minutes of walking, Caleb reached his destination. Sanctum, his throne room.
He pushed open the final set of gates, this time made of stone and etched with demons and angels. The inside was decorated with all of the resplendent luxury of the other parts of the floor, except this time, the furniture was positioned with much more deliberation. Even with all of the excessively beautiful items of jaw-dropping value placed throughout the throne room, the word 'excessive' would never cross a foreign observer's mind. Even with the massive throne of polished ivory and gilded gold that sat in the back of the room, 'decadence' had never been used to describe this room.
The ivory throne was flanked by two kneeling women, both exceptionally beautiful in their own way.
The woman to the left of the throne had fair and flawless skin. Her lightly curled golden-blonde hair stretched to her waist, shining as if they were strands of pure gold. Her sapphire blue eyes sparkled wherever the light shone.
'Rebis. Offensive spell caster. A worthy substitute for a missing DPS in any party.' Caleb remarked in his head.
The woman to the right had equally flawless skin of rich caramel. Her straight raven hair was as long as her fairer-skinned counterpart. Her golden irises were so bright that they practically glowed.
'Opus. Defensive tank. Often borrowed by members with weaker solo fighting capabilities.'
While their proportions and faces were virtually identical, the striking differences in colours and roles gave them a sort of Yin and Yang duality. If he'd guessed, their backstory and personality would probably be strikingly conflicting as well.
'Haah, you really were into the whole 'twins but not exactly' fetish weren't you, DigiSaus? The whole dichotomy stuff really did it for you, eh?'
Caleb walked towards the throne, this time slowly, methodically, as if each step closer would speed up time faster and faster. How much time was left?
'10 minutes left.'
Caleb sat down when he reached the throne, trying his hardest to look regal as he knew no one was watching.
"Well, at least I won't get the chance to get caught looking like an idiot anymore, heh." Caleb muttered quietly to himself. "Mmh, how about one last photo for old times sake? I could probably print it and put it up somewhere…"
Caleb opened the cash shop window by making an 'S' gesture with his finger. He flipped through the various tabs, searching for the item that he need. Flipping through sections such as Power-ups, Pets, and Gacha, he finally found the section he was looking for: Miscellaneous.
Within this section contained the item, Digital Camera, which allowed one to take pictured in 3rd person and save it to the harddrive of the dive gear. It was rather cheap, priced at only 1000 yen. He tapped on the big green button with the word 'Purchase' printed on it.
'Heh, this'll be the last chunk of money those shitty devs will ever get out of me.'
Caleb grabbed the newly purchased item from his inventory and activated it, creating a floating sphere and opening another window in front of him. The new window showed what the sphere, which was the camera, saw.
Caleb fiddled around with the camera, changing the focal distance, filter, and field of view. When he was finally satisfied with the settings, he made another short gesture with his finger, making the camera go about five meters away and face him. With the window in front of him, He could see every detail of the picture he was about to take.
He saw a powerful demon lord, sitting on his ivory throne, flanked by two beautiful concubines. Due to the lighting and filter he chose gave the displayed image a much more ominous tone. Heavy sabatons and greaves of polished dark metal glistened in the pale light, revealing every intricate piece of detail on their surfaces. The light was just strong enough to reach the Skar's shoulders, displaying the skulls that adorned the thick, black pauldrons. The greathelm that Skar wore was equally intimidating, both in its shape and how it was crowned with a wreath of black thorns.
'Truly fitting of the king of Muspelheim.'
*Click*
With the tap of a button, the camera took the photo and stored it in the client-side harddrive.
"Mmmmh, how much longer?" Caleb muttered. He glanced back at his HUD (Heads Up Display). "10 more minutes. How about another shot without the helmet? Hmm, let's keep the settings and position though."
Caleb opened his character screen and nonchalantly unequipped the helmet.
"Oh."
What Caleb saw surprised him for a short moment.
'It's sure been a long time since I took off the helm. I can't believe that I actually forgot what my face actually looked like.'
Simply put, his avatar's face did not seem to belong to his body. The face was not that of some hellspawn demon, or even that of a scarred and grizzled man. It wasn't even something that looked like the product of teenage angst or edginess. It wasn't even male.
It was the face of a woman. A regular woman. One could say that the hairstyle and bone structure made her look like the stereotypical flawless female, but in consideration that this was a game, it appeared was simply plain and normal. No battle scars blemishing the skin, no tribal facial tattoo, no warpaint, no nothing. Only glowing ruby eyes and medium-length black hair.
The vast differences between body, head, and build, was not something that Caleb chose to have. No. The face was originally there, but the body was the byproduct of bad luck and the "hidden fun stuff" of Yggdrasil.
Caleb's character was a heteromorph with basic shapeshifting abilities. The racial class tree splits early on into two categories: Stealth and Tanking. The stealth category, [Body Shifter], led to the player having greater capabilities in changing themselves to blend themselves into the environment to gather information or to prepare for single target burst. The tank path, [Flesh Beast] focused more on a single, tanky form that is used in almost every situation. Caleb chose the latter path, giving him immunity and resistances to many types of elemental damages such as cold and poison, but that was not the most unique part of his racial class build.
The tanking path of his race came with a special, defining passive called [Flesh Thirst]. This passive allows him to regenerate most of the damage he inflicts onto enemies, at the cost of having most outside healing sources be reduced to one tenth of their actual effectiveness. The only exception to this rule are healing over time spells classified under the [Regeneration] category.
This racial passive granted him almost unparallelled dueling capability, effectiveness in small skirmishes and tanking power in single-party dungeons. The downside, however, is the inability to tank effectively in larger scale battles such as guild wars and raids, forcing Caleb to take a more supportive role in a party.
The base form of this heteromorph race, however, is that of a human race, usually humans or elves. The reason why his character's body was more like that of a large demi-human, was because of something else...
Caleb sifted through his memories, trying to remember exactly how this happened.
In the glorious old days, when his character looked more like a normal human player, he would often take part in hilarious bait ganks with his guildmates. He would pose as a weak, squishy female solo player, often a mage or a healer in light armor. In lower worlds such as Helheim, heteromorphic gankers would try to attack him in hopes of picking up an easy kill only to, when at melee range, get surprised when the small squishy transformed into a heavily armored monster. The transformation was extremely fast and often takes people by surprise. Ensuing voice comms were hilarious combinations of screaming and panic, which gave Caleb and his hidden guildmates time to counter-engage and wipe out the enemies.
In higher worlds like Alfheim, his baits would work by letting himself get injured by local mobs and teetered at about 30% Hp. This would be when some self-righteous white knight(s) would reveal themselves in a rather cheesy fashion, announcing that they would come to his rescue and "save the day". If no one was biting, pre-recorded voice lines often convinced players who were on the brink of coming to his aid. The end result would be the same, ending with a sudden transformation scaring the bejeezus out of the would be saviors and letting them die to stealthed allies. It was an entertaining way to PvP and acquire loot. One of the victims of these ganks even dropped a WCI, which the guild held to this day.
Of course, everything was nice and rosy until the game decided to ruin it. One day, after a typical gank kill on another unsuspecting white knight, Skar leveled up. Now, this wouldn't be strange if he hadn't already been level 100, the max level. He gained a new racial class level, making him level 101. Unlike previous level-ups, however, the stats gained where almost negligible. The racial class was called [Great Devourer] and, at this point, Caleb had simply thought it was his lucky day. The only description that was given was that he was now capable of leveling over 100 and utilize the passives, spells, and skills of classes he picked up.
Unfortunately, after many more PvP kills, dungeons, and levels later, he found that the leveling kill would take a random job-class level from the victim. Now, all of this sounded peachy. What wasn't to like about it? Sure, he couldn't really choose what classes to get and had to carefully pick and choose the new spells as his spell limit did not increase, but he had the benefit of choice and a small amount of extra stats. As he had a physical melee build, an extra spell or two to diversify his combos wouldn't hurt.
Well, benefits were not the only thing provided however. Every level increased the model size and shape of his character. It was subtle at first, but after 50 extra levels, he could no longer pose as the bait as the size of the character make any potential biters suspicious, ruining the gank's setup. 100 additional levels later, with only tiny boosts to stats and a massive increase in character size, Caleb would say that getting this "special and rare" class had been for the worse.
Sure, he had access to extremely useful job-class specific spells and passives, but his model size made him one of the easiest targets to hit from range, which ruined any chance of dodge arrows like he used to do. Large-scale PvP became hell as he would be easily volleyed off the field by hundreds of ranged DPS, who shot him simply because he looked large and intimidating in his armored form.
The absolute worst part of the class, however, was discovering how much more significant the Yggdrasil death penalty of five levels was. When he died at about level 200 from aggroing too many mobs in a dungeon, he found that he lost several levels in his [Berserker] class, removing the passive [Blood Rage] and absolutely demolishing his ability to output damage. He discovered that he couldn't even choose to relevel the job-class whenever he gained a level, as the class gained was semi-random depending on what classes the victim had. It took him over 50 levels of specific player and NPC targets to get his original build back. This caused him to be extremely careful during raids and forced him to outright refuse to PvP in certain situations, as the five level death penalty may be much more disastrous to his build than losing a Divine-Tier item.
In short, the "amazing" and rare class was nothing more than a crappy sidegrade. No more ganks, no more PvP, this one class took away most of the fun away from the game.
'Those shitty devs really had to ruin my build, didn't they? Crap, how long was thinking about the past?'
four minutes left.
He decided to abstain from the helmless shot and re-equipped his helmet. He was, however, ready to take one last picture.
'Hmm, how about this?'
"[Living Armor]"
With his verbal command, thick bones and dark red muscle began to wrap around his armor, hiding his menacing armor with even more brutal shell of carapace and flesh. Spikes of bone protruded from his body and tendrils of dark muscle slithered into place. A shell of bone envelopes the helmet, leaving only four diagonal slits for the eyes, glowing with a bright red hue. This was the form he took whenever he enters combat, whether his enemies are trash mobs, bosses, or baited gankers. It was a truly terrifying sight.
He repeated the process with the camerawork and quickly took one last photo.
3 minutes left.
He pulled up the list of guild members and read out their names one by one. Duskino, Habbybolan, StringlessMarionette, BlackMatterLives, DigiSause, Toppest-Kekaku. He continued mentally reading each and every name until he reached the online-members section of the list. All four of them were still online.
'APM-Maximus, our stalwart grand tactician, who led us to an undefeated 10 years of guild to guild warfare. Why did you run away on our final hour? No, you didn't run, you were just adamant in having time for yourself.'
'Lilylala, our trustworthy healer who has never disobeyed a tactical order. The one who was always first to regroup and fall back into line when a raid goes wrong. You had the demeanor of a healer in one of those old animated shows that portrayed Dive gaming before it even existed. Why would she disobey me on this last day? No, it was because I didn't order her to stay. It isn't her fault'
'Lapis Lazuras, my closest friend, in-game and out. You've been with me for over 20 years, since I was only five years old. Why? Why now did you abandon me? Why was I alone?'
And finally, 'Skarlett Sangreal, the guild leader of the Tier Raid. Why did I stay? Was it obligation? Was it because that I was the only one who truly had obligation to stay?'
Only one minute left.
Caleb yawned.
'It's so late.'
He closed his eyes, not to sleep, but to reminisce about all of the fond memories and adventures he had with his friends. All of the dungeons that they oneshotted, all of the raid bosses that wiped their party over and over again. Everything was tinted through the rosy glasses of his memories. As he forced his tired mind to cycle through more and more memories, he slowly and unknowingly dozed off into the depths of slumber.
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
…
Caleb jolted awake. He wasn't sure how long he slept for.
'Crap, I fell asleep. Wait, I'm still in the game. I guess the admins are late to shutdown the server. Haah, I should probably get off now. It wouldn't look good if someone saw me sleeping in my dive ge-'
"Is something wrong Skarlett Sangreal-sama?"
"No, it's nothing. I was just about to…"
'Wait… What?'
The voice came from his left. No one should be there.
"Skarlett Sangeal-sama, i-is something wrong?"
"Hmg?!" A shout of surprise almost escaped Caleb's mouth as he heard a soft feminine voice coming from his left speak again.
Caleb slowly turned his head towards the voice to see the worried face of Opus.
'Worried?' Modern dive gear did not have enough processing power to render realistic changes to facial expressions, yet there it is in front of him.
The voice may have been pre-recorded but-
"Do you dare question our Divine Lord? I hadn't known you to be so rude, sister." Another voice, nearly identical in pitch but completely opposite in tone came from his right.
He swung his head to the right to see Rebis looking towards her twin with a slight scowl.
'This might just be a drea-'
"N-no Rebis! I would never question Skarlett-sama!"
"And you dare call a Divine Lord by such a colloquial name?!" Rebis's scowl deepened.
Everything felt too real.
"W-wait! I apologi-"
"Apologize to our Divine Lord then."
"ENOUGH!" A deep monstrous voice interjected the squabble between the two seemingly alive women, though it had been more like a lopsided barrage of criticisms. It had came from Caleb, though he himself had been surprised by how loud, deep, and grating his voice was.
The room went quiet. All conversation had stopped. The air itself held its breath and listened.
Did this accidental outburst go too far? In a more controlled tone. Caleb said. "I wish to have privacy. Please, uh, leave this room. I will call you back when I have resolved the, erm, issue." The voice, while quieter, was just as rough and grating.
The twins replied "Yes Skarlett Sangreal-sama! Your wish is our command." in perfect unison.
They quickly exited the room, as if their lives and honour depended in it.
'The NPCs responded to an unregistered command pattern. What the hell was going on? Maybe I haven't been getting enough sleep. I should just log out.'
Caleb drew an "L" with his index finger to bring up the menu.
The menu didn't pop up.
He repeated the L gesture with his finger to open the main menu.
It still did not appear
He tried again.
Nothing.
And again.
Nothing.
Panic slowly crept up into Caleb's mind. The only possible reason why the menu was disabled was he was being kidnapped. Or maybe this was just a dream. No, Caleb never had a dream this lucid, with voices and movement being so crisp and clear. Caleb, however, held on to this last shred of possible explanation.
'Yeah, i'll wake up soon.' He tried to convince himself.
But nothing explained why the Rebis and Opus had such complex dialogue interaction or how they both had verbal response recognition this complex. The smell of light floral perfume entered his nose as he ran through the possibilities.
Smell?
Smells didn't exist in Yggdrasil. It was outlawed along with pain and taste as illegal sensory stimuli for dive gaming. Yet the pleasant smell was undeniably present.
'Perhaps I should call one of them back and see if I can break another of the game's rules. No. That would be too perverted. What the hell am I even thinking at a time like this?'
Whether he consciously accepted it or not, Caleb knew that something was very wrong with this situation. But first, he had to make sure if anyone else had been experiencing this… how would one call it… weirdness.
"[Message] Lilylala." The line was silent for 10 seconds.
20.
30.
40.
A minute has passed. No response. Did she log out already? Was he alone in his situation? Dread breathed down his neck.
'Okay, maybe she just logged out. How about Max?'
"[Message] APM-Maximus."
10 seconds had passed.
20.
Click*
Someone picked up.
"Max! Hey! Are you alright. Do you know what's going o-"
"REEEEEEEEEEE!"
A deafening shriek reverberated within Caleb's head, along with sounds of thrashing and heavy thumps.
"REEEEEKAKAKKAKAKAKAKK!" More shrieks and strange clacking sounds echoed in Caleb's head. Along with the cacophonous noise, sounds of struggle in the background came through from the other side of the [Message] spell.
Unable to bear the dissonant clamor anymore, Caleb quickly ended the call.
"What the hell!? Wha-" Caleb couldn't even begin to comprehend what happened. Did he call the wrong entity? Did the spell misfire? Whatever it was, Caleb decided not to try calling Max again.
With his ears still ringing, and his head filled with questions about what he heard on the other side, despair started to slowly consume him.
One last person.
"God please, please, let this work. C'mon. [Message] Lapis Lazuras. C'mon Laz, please pick up. Laz, no, Steven. Please pick up."
Notes:
Thanks for reaching Chapter one of my fanfic! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter.
Since I still need to hone my writing skills, I would like to encourage you guys to write a review. Tell me what I can improve on so I can make it better, or what I am doing well, so I won't change it for the worse later on. If you don't want to though, it's no biggie. I'm already thankful that you managed to wade through the huge blocks of exposition that i wrote.
I'm probably also going to re-read Overlord from the beginning to get a refresher on character personalities.
Once again, thanks for checking out my fanfic
