The sunset painted the horizon in a breathtaking shade of ruby red, casting sinister shadows from the otherworldly white trees that towered along the dirt path to the south.
I backtracked outside of Waystone Village, following the familiar path back to the grounds of my skirmish. Revisiting the scene of carnage drew a nasty sense of excitement up through my chest.
Before I left, the guards tried to convince me to hire an escort, or at least wait till morning. But I could do neither. Even if I had the spare coin to hire an escort, I doubted their willingness to watch me bury the bodies of three guardsmen.
Covering my tracks was necessary. Eventually, they would be deemed missing and if this country was even semi-competent, an investigation would ensue.
I made haste as the daylight retreated from the sky, leaving me underneath the light of two moons.
Before I left town, I changed into my new clothes in an outhouse. My cape blended into the darkness, waving behind me as I drew closer to my objective. Pulling the hood down to the edge of my eyes brought me a familiar comfort.
I don't know why, but hiding behind a mask made me feel safe. My therapist said I used it as a barrier between me and the world. That I was afraid for people to see the real me.
It was a valid theory. I didn't even want to see my true self.
A howl cut through the night as I stumbled upon the mess of my own creation. I followed the dried blood, barely visible in the moonlight, into the brush where I dumped the bodies.
I stared down at the three lifeless corpses at my feet.
Did it have to come to this?
In the moment it had felt right. More than right, it felt good. And that feeling scared me more than death.
I walked a few yards further into the forest, determined to find a proper resting spot. Eventually, I stumbled upon a mossy clearing with soft ground.
It took longer than I expected to dig a grave. By the time I made the hole six feet deep and wide enough to accompany a party of three, sweat stung my eyes and matted my shirt to my back.
I rolled Kohad down to his eternal resting place and kicked him into the grave. Lee weighed even more than Kohad and kept getting caught on overgrown roots as I dragged him by his boots.
"You won't be missed," I said and gave him a hard shove into the hole.
Last was Zelva.
I stared down at her lifeless body, regret engulfing me like a grease fire as my gaze met her broken neck. Her head lay at an impossible angle, loosely bouncing as I dragged her through the woods.
I never meant to kill her. Even a thief like her deserved better than this. Yet, somehow, her death attributed to my positive karma rating, spawning more questions about the system's murky mechanics.
Her arm caught on a loose branch, nearly causing me to trip. When I pulled at her feet again, she refused to budge. As her hand tightened around the branch, I jumped backward, heart in my throat.
"You're alive!" I shouted.
"No, you killed me," Zelva said.
She attempted to raise her head, only for it to hang limply at her side, gray pupils burning into mine.
"You killed me, and my unborn child."
Zelva shot up from the ground. Muddied hair clung to the side of her disheveled face. My back pressed against the cold tree bark as I fumbled for my dagger.
The joints in her arms cracked and popped as she reached out for me.
"Shut up," I screamed and lunged forward, driving the dagger through her heart.
"Ouch, oh shit, that hurt, dickhead."
I pressed my heel into her chest, kicking her to the ground as my blade slid out.
"Chaos?" I asked.
"Yes, perhaps I took that too far."
I towered over Zelva's body in a state of awkward confusion.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Just having a little fun. You didn't have to stab me."
"Save the poor me act for when you aren't occupying someone's corpse," I said and turned away, disgusted by the little bastard.
"You're the one desecrating the corpse of the woman you murdered."
I slammed my fist into a tree, relishing in the pain of the bark cutting into my knuckles. Blood dripped to the ground as I stood in silence.
"I didn't mean to upset you. It was just a joke," Chaos said.
"Enough," I shouted as I dashed over to Zelva's body, snatched her up and tossed her into the grave.
"Don't take it so hard, Derrick."
"Was she pregnant?" I asked, fearing the answer.
"No, but the look on your face——"
I interrupted Chaos as I hiked a shovelful of dirt into his face.
"Hey, wait a second. I came to tell you to keep heading south. Follow——"
Another barrage of dirt down his throat shut him up. After three encounters with Chaos, I was done giving him chances. After making his first impression by killing me, I figured he couldn't do worse.
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I was wrong.
***
The walk back to Waystone Village left me with too much time to ruminate over my actions. I was exhausted both physically and mentally, but unwilling to spend any money on a room for the night.
Luckily, I returned in time to be greeted by the guard who saw me off, allowing me to pass through without an additional toll. I cut through the center of town, listening to dampened hoots and hollers coming from the tavern.
I wondered if Jordain was still sitting in his corner, sipping through another pint. Numbing myself with a hefty amount of alcohol felt appropriate. Every time I blinked, Zelva greeted me with outstretched arms and a crooked smile.
Even if I wished to sleep, I doubted my ability to do so. Instead, I decided to ignore Chaos's advice and head north, straight for Ingcaster. Based on the information Jordain relayed, I'd be able to make some money there and further expand my knowledge of this world.
"Where are you headed?" Leonard, a level one guard with positive karma, asked as I approached the north gate.
"North, to Ingcaster."
"It'd be wiser to wait till dawn."
I waved the guard off and he opened the gate, uninterested.
If I was torn apart by a skitterbear, so be it. Jordain warned me of the nocturnal eight-legged beasts. He claimed they were responsible for hundreds of deaths every season, but at the moment, the thought of being digested by such a horrible creature was quite alluring.
After all, I deserved it. Why was I here? To amplify the worst parts of myself?
Smoke colored clouds shifted across the sky, shrouding my path in darkness. Miles passed, and I melted into the shadows.
+1 Stamina
I filled my lungs with cool night air as I watched the glowing text fade away. Gaining a single stat point in stamina wasn’t immediately noticeable. However, I had been walking for hours and wasn’t even feeling the slightest bit exhausted. Again, I couldn't tell if that was due to my new body or the stats. At the very least, I knew this vessel surpassed my old body in every aspect. Over the past few hours, I’d grown quite accustomed to my larger frame, finding it surprisingly agile despite its size.
As I spiraled in self-hatred and pity, I had almost forgotten my purpose. Justice had brought me here for a reason. Of course, I wasn’t who she intended to summon, but to spite Chaos and avoid being sent back to the abyss, I planned to fulfill her request.
Hooves kicked up sheets of dirt as four horses carried a group of drunks 30 yards behind me. I turned around, watching as torchlight painted their shadows against the tree line.
Rather than hide in the woods, I simply stepped to the side, waiting for their statuses to appear.
Karma’s Gaze activated automatically, revealing four men, three level ones and a level two with negative karma ratings that totaled a whopping -2130. Seeing their karma truly sapped the surprise I might have felt when they slowed their horses to match my pace.
I adjusted my hood lower, concealing the grin that was spreading across my face like an incurable disease. An involuntary switch flipped in my mind, instantly snuffing out my previous bout of guilt.
"Look at this fool," Mortimer said, as he eyed the sack of supplies on my back.
Mortimer and his group rode up beside me, their horses slowing as the terrain steepened. "Didn't anyone warn you about traveling at night?"
"Just a few," I said.
"Well, it's sage advice," Mortimer said.
Drunken chuckles cut through the chirping of insects.
"Leaving Waystone alone in the dark while a bar full of drunks reeking of desperation watch... Well, it invites problems."
At a quick glance, none of them seemed to belong to the military or a state ship. They wore loose fitting rags that smelled of spilled beer and sweat. What relieved me the most was the total absence of women in their group.
"Let me guess, Mortimer. You and your friends are about to threaten me for my money and supplies. If I refuse, you'll kill me, right?" I asked.
Speaking his name darkened his facial expression. He pulled a rusty sword from his hilt and pointed it in my direction.
"You're half right. We want your supplies, but you won't be walking away. Don't need some shit that knows my name to come back around here with a party of his own."
"Good, that's what I wanted to hear," I said.
Mortimer mulled over my answer, trying to retain his drunken balance on his horse. The other three men pulled ahead of me and dismounted, pinning me between them and Mortimer.
"You seem to misunderstand what is happening here," Mortimer spat.
Ten minutes ago, I would've welcomed death. Maybe their poor timing was a sign sent by Justice herself. I hardly recognized them as human. They were just empty shells whose sole purpose was to provide me with more experience.
"Kill him," Mortimer shouted and awkwardly charged forward, his horse stumbling along the uneven path.
I ducked his first swing with ease, causing him to nearly tumble off his horse as he shot past me and rode through the dragnet to my front. A goon named Baylen swooped in, slicing low at my right leg.
Their intoxicated states played to my advantage, allowing ample time to sidestep Baylen's attack and shove him aside.
Keeping my arms loose at my sides, I didn’t bother with unsheathing my dagger. They were too slow, and I hated the idea of ending the fight before their misplaced confidence crumbled like a sandcastle submersed in the evening tide.
"What's with him?" Baylen asked.
"Surround him!" Mortimer bellowed as he turned his horse around, readying another charge.
For fun, I positioned myself in the center of the three goons, suppressing an insidious laughter from escaping out my throat.
The other two goons took to my left and right. Baylen moved in from behind as Mortimer screamed like an idiot as he charged in. The circle of men snapped closed, drunken blades intending to puncture me from three different angles.
But I pressed my feet into the dirt and launched myself into the air and over their attacks with ease.
"Shit," Baylen yelped as I dropped from above and landed on his back, taking him to the ground.
The other two goons stumbled to the side, making way as Mortimer rushed past me on his horse.
Baylen squirmed beneath me as I gripped his skull. His scream only lasted a moment as I snapped his head off his shoulders like I was pulling a weed out by its root.
The moment I had been waiting for struck the battlefield. A delicious sense of dread and horror stuck the goons on the ground, but the decapitation only seemed to enrage Mortimer, who viciously kicked his spurs into the side of his horse.
I wound back my arm and pitched Baylen's head into Mortimer's chest, knocking him from his horse, who dashed away into the darkness.
Mortimer lay at my feet, lungs scrambling for air.
Two swords clanked on the ground at my flank as I stared into Mortimer’s silver eyes. Maybe it was all the alcohol, but it took a moment for his expression to twist upon the morbid realization of his current reality. Staring down death surely sobered a person up.
"What's wrong with you?" Mortimer asked.
For some reason I couldn't speak. Something wet dripped down my cheek.
What is this?
I turned around, seeing the horrified gazes of the two young men. They looked at me like I was a gorilla at the zoo that had just torn off the arm of a small child that had fallen into its turf.
Words choked in my throat.
"You—" I said, unable to speak.
"He's fucking laughing!" Mortimer shouted as he crawled backward and unsheathed a dagger from his side.
Suddenly, I heard my deranged howls echoing through the woods. I covered my mouth and stumbled backward, squeezing my cheeks until they hurt, inadvertently smearing blood across my face.
Great, not only did I sound like a maniac, I looked like one, too.
Mortimer raised himself off the ground and brandished his dagger. "Fools, pick up your swords."
"Sorry about that. I think I just got caught up in the moment," I said, embarrassed by my outburst. "Garret, Brand, I suggest you listen to him. Pick up those swords or die unarmed."
Mortimer's eyes filled with hate. "You piece—"
The tip of my dagger reached the back of his throat before he finished his sentence. His fading expression called me a coward. I retrieved my blade and strolled toward the drunken bandits shaking in their boots.
"Are there a lot of wolves around here?" I asked.
Brand nodded.
"That's great news. I didn't feel like digging anymore graves."
I rushed at Brand, dodged his nervous swing and ran my dagger through his throat. Garret seized what he thought was an opening, and lunged with a stab, only to pierce his comrades shoulder. I shoved the dead weight into the drunk thug, throwing him off balance. By the time he found his footing I had severed his radial artery.
He raised his hand, blood pulsing freely from his sliced open wrist. Then he collapsed and soon bold text lit up the night.
+50 XP
+50 Karma
LEVEL UP
+1 Strength
+1 Agility
+1 Ability Point
