Chapter 102

  Castle Archewald, Part V (Loch Stray)

  Archewald leads me through a maze of corridors, until we reach an absolutely mundane looking door. It’s made of the same, solid wood as most of the doors in the castle. This one, however, is painted green with a brass knob.

  “Ah! Here we are!” he sings, before opening the door. On the other side is darkness, so thick I can’t perceive anything of the room inside.

  He steps into the room and I follow. As soon as I do, I feel the familiar tugging sensation of teleportation behind my navel, and my fingers and toes buzz with static electricity. In an instant, the castle interior warps and changes. Gone is the castle’s decadent madness. Gone are the portraits of odd reptilian subjects, the velvet drapes, the chaotic decor that feels like someone took Dracula’s castle and had a Fabrege egg vomit all over it.

  Instead, I’m staring at a gentle, rolling field of bright green grass, swaying in a breeze that actually smells nice, clean. A cerulean sky stretches overhead, filled with drifting fluffy white clouds. The air is warm, but not oppressive, reminding me of a pleasant Spring day. Straight ahead, a small, still lake gleams like a polished coin.

  “Woah,” I breathe.

  Dr. Archewald stands beside me, his white lab coat fluttering gently behind him. Behind him is the door, standing like the anomaly it is in the middle of the field. It’s open and on the other side I see the castle’s hallway.

  “Where are we?” I ask, eyes narrowing as I take in our new surroundings.

  “Never been to a pocket dimension?” he says, stretching his arms and basking in the sunlight. “Darling, when you’re trapped in a castle for all intents and purposes, you need to be creative… Damn, that sun feels nice. Even if it isn’t real… This place is called Loch Stray.”

  “Not real?” I repeat. I feel the sunlight on my own skin, the breeze on my exposed thighs, and the tall grass tickling my legs where my boots end. Sure as hell feels real enough. But the situation begs another question. “I thought you said you couldn’t leave the castle?”

  “We’re still in the castle… Technically,” he replies.

  “Technically?”

  “Technically, this is still just a room within the hub of my domain. It’s just bigger on the inside. A pocket dimension I had modeled after one of my memories. Of a place from a long, long time ago.”

  “From when you participated in this world’s Game?”

  He nods, expression softening. “Back before the Contest, darling. Before the wars. When the world was still young. Loch Stray was one of the last untouched places. It’s burned into my memory. Every blade of grass. Every lazy gust of wind rippling across that lake. The trout might be a little more fabulous than they were in reality, but hey—we all embellish. The power of nostalgia, I suppose.” He sighs, longingly looking out over the water. I know the look in his eyes: of a man drinking in the reality that the life that lies before him is something he can truly no longer have.

  I shuffle awkwardly. I get it, I really do. I had the same feeling when I took in mine and Sarah’s old place in Manhattan, before leaving it behind forever. Most things aren’t meant to last, I suppose.

  I shake my head slowly, taking it in. “This place feels… Uh… different than everything else I’ve seen in your world.”

  “That’s because it is different,” Archewald says, voice quieter now. “Our world was broken during the Contest. Not all at once—bit by bit. As we gained power, as we built armies, the land changed to suit the violence. Dinescu and I… we weren’t saints. None of us were. Especially in the end.”

  That hits a little harder than I expect. I never stopped to think how the System, and the power it offered, could change a person. Will it change me too? Had it changed me already?

  I want to ask Archewald more about this world’s God Game. About exactly what happened during their Contest. About why I was here to fix whatever mess they had left behind in the wake of their Game. But now’s not the time. I stash the questions away for later.

  “So why show me this?” I ask.

  He grins. “Because this is where you’ll train, baby!”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I blink. “Okay…”

  “Time distortion enchantment,” he says, clapping his hands. He sticks a thumb over his shoulder to the doorway leading back to the castle proper. “Out there—three days.” He points to his feet. “In here? You’ll have what is essentially six. Enough time for you to focus on the evolution of your trousers.”

  I look down at my jorts. Despite the enchantments, the curse, and the various stat buffs, they look like ordinary acid washed Daisy Dukes.

  “The rules are simple,” Archewald says, pointing at me with one manicured nail. “You must unequip everything, other than those shorts. Then, you must survive the entire three day period. I’ll fetch you at the end of the three days—or sooner, if you achieve evolution.”

  “That’s,” I start, then pause. “Unhelpful.”

  Dr. Archewald puts a hand on his feminine hips and sighs. “Certain pieces of enchanted equipment are capable of evolution. Evolution and growth require two things. First, is frequent use and mastery of the item. Second, is connecting with the item, and gaining a deeper understanding of its nature. That is the trick!”

  I raise a brow. “That’s… a little more helpful.” Actually, it sounds a lot like the breakthrough I made when attuning to the Behemoth Cap. I still haven’t had a chance to really think about that much since it happened. I have no idea how everything finally clicked into place.

  “And if I fail? If I can’t achieve evolution?” I ask. Would I have just wasted three days I could have spent training in other ways?

  “Oh, you’ll be trapped here forever,” he says with a wave. “Or until I get bored and let you out.”

  “…Seriously?”

  He shrugs. “I’m whimsical, babe. Who knows what I’ll do?”

  I let out a long sigh and take a few tentative steps into the field. The grass brushes against my shins. Somewhere in the distance, I hear a sound I can’t quite place. Is that thunder? I scratch the back of my head, taking in the pristine sky. Not a single dark, storm-filled cloud in sight.

  “So, what’s the plan, specifically?” I ask, turning back to Archewald. “Are we going to be sparring for six days straight?”

  Dr. Archewald laughs. “No, I have other matters I must attend to. But rest assured, I’ll be monitoring your progress from afar, and may pop in to give you pointers, if I feel it would be helpful. Though often times, it’s best for the wielder to figure it out on their own.”

  I expel a frustrated sigh from my nose and look out across the lake. This whole premise seems like an absolute waste of time. Sparring and practicing combat scenarios with the reptilian hybrids would be a better use of time. Perhaps I could even level up a couple more times before setting off for the World Seed.

  “What do you expect me to do in here all alone for six days?” I finally ask.

  “Alone?” Archewald asks, surprised by my question. “Who ever said anything about you being alone?”

  At that moment, the air rumbles with a deep, vibrating croak that I feel in my sternum as my very core quakes thanks to the help of [Perception] and [Aura Sense]. The Skills pull my attention towards the east, where I can sense something approach, just beyond the pale of the horizon. The surface of the lake ripples, and I hear that sound again, only this time growing closer. Doom!... Doom!... Doom!

  Finally, it reveals itself.

  It’s the size of a two-story house, maybe bigger. Silver skin, like brushed chrome, stretches across a bloated amphibian body. It’s a… giant frog? Its legs are thick, each one ending in webbed toes that dig into the ground with every hop. Glowing teal eyes blink, one after the other, with the slow, uncaring indifference. A massive bronze key is jammed into its back, like I’d see on an old wind-up toy. With every hop, the key clicks forward a quarter turn, as if some ancient mechanism inside is winding tighter.

  “What the hell is that thing?” I say, without turning.

  Archewald’s voice is pure glee behind me. “That, darling, is a failed Guardian Construct. And old prototype of mine. Too dangerous to let loose on the Realm, too stubborn to destroy. Instead, I stored it here.”

  “A Guardian… Like the Headless Harbinger?”

  “No.”

  I sigh in relief, letting my shoulder relax just slightly.

  “This guy is totally worse.”

  “What?!” I exclaim. “Are you trying to get me killed, or get my jorts to evolve?”

  He smiles, leaning in like he’s telling me a secret. “It’s programmed to pursue targets endlessly. Resists all types of damage, elemental and physical. But—” he adds, holding up a perfectly manicured finger, “—it cannot kill Participants.”

  I whip my head around to stare at him. “Cannot or should not?” Because there’s a difference.

  He shrugs, all innocent-like. “I created back during our world’s Contest. It had a critical flaw in that in uncannily cannot deplete a Participant’s natural recovery mechanism implemented by the System.”

  So, this gigantic mechanical frog toy of destruction couldn’t lower my Health below 1. That’s actually pretty encouraging.

  “Doesn’t mean he won’t keep you at the brink of death in an eternal loop of recovering just enough to keep his onslaught going,” he adds. “Many found it worse than death, actually. Which is why this little experiment was too interesting to just throw away.”

  “And I’m supposed to do what, exactly? Defeat it?”

  “Survive.”

  The silver frog takes another thunderous leap forward, landing with an impact that sends dirt and flowers flying into the air. That clockwork key on its back clicks again, before it redirects its course, and begins rounding the edge of the lake. Towards us.

  “Survive,” Archewald repeats, stepping backward and through the doorway. He standing on the other side, back in the hall of his castle. “Best of luck, babe!”

  “Wait—!” I start, but he slams the door shut and in that very instant it vanishes, leaving behind an unobstructed view of the field stretching out beyond it. The last remnants of the portal drift in the air in the form of a few particles of pixelated light and faint scent of ozone.

  The ground shakes again, snapping my attention back to the matter at hand. I lock onto the duplex-sized mechanical frog, examining it.

  Ping!

  Monster Identified: Mock Toad, First Draft

  Classification: De-Commissioned Guardian

  Level: ?

  It looks its glowing eyes on me, and picks up its pace, hopping in double time towards my position.

  “Well, shit…!”