The Lost Girl

  As Lara approached the pit, her heart began to race. What a creepy place.

  She kept turning around, scanning her surroundings. There was nothing. And yet the feeling of being watched wouldn't go away. She tried to calm herself down, annoyed at her own nerves. It was almost midnight. Wandering through the forest alone at night could mess with anyone's head. But this wasn't some monster's lair. A harmless NPC lived here.

  In the moonlight, she made out a wide table. One half was covered with the ugliest wooden figurines she'd ever seen. In front of it, a sign was stuck in the ground: Mike's Quests & Wood.

  The questgiver was apparently as crazy as they said. Slowly, she approached the pit. A glance at her wristwatch: midnight on the dot. Here goes. "I challenge you to a race!" Silence. Had he heard her? "I CHALLENGE YOU TO A RACE!"

  Lara swallowed hard. The feeling of being watched was now overwhelming. When a figure suddenly emerged from the pit, she instinctively reached for her short swords. A man stepped into the moonlight. Grumpy and half-asleep. Confused, Lara lowered her weapons.

  "What the hell are you doing?" he asked, utterly bewildered. "I CHALLENGE YOU…"

  "I heard you, you poor lunatic," he cut her off with a groan. "Why are you screaming into my pit in the middle of the night?"

  Poor lunatic? Lara blinked. "I heard you only accept one challenge a day. That's why I'm here."

  "You want to race through the forest in the middle of the night?"

  "What? No, of course not. I just wanted to get my challenge in early."

  The questgiver stared at her. For a moment, he said nothing. Then he explained, in very clear terms, what he thought of this idea. Lara was certain: she had never been so thoroughly insulted in her life.

  The next morning, Mike was still in a foul mood. That idiot Samuel was crying foul and didn't feel bound by his word. He'd spread the story of a new impossible quest. This time with an astonishing reward: an NPC cook.

  It was inevitable that the news traveled across the entire valley. Now, every day, cocky players showed up at his pit and challenged him with big talk. Too many to turn away, so he'd agreed in irritation to take on one guild per day. But each guild only got one shot.

  Over the past few days, Mike had accepted the challenge from whichever guild approached him first. After that, he turned everyone else away. Thankfully, the crowds were finally starting to thin out. His beaten opponents were happy to confirm that he was, in fact, completely unbeatable.

  Except now the remaining idiots were waking him up a little earlier each day. What that player had pulled last night, though, had been a new low.

  Unfortunately, said player turned out to be a member of a notorious PvP guild. Who could have guessed? She's just a teenager. Miriam had given him a proper earful that morning. First she'd woken him up, then she'd ratted on him.

  Mike had to promise Miriam that the nuisance would be allowed to compete today. Apparently the two of them were friends. How had that happened? The Eternal Warriors were a PvP guild of the Eastern Collective. And one of the worst in the entire game.

  While she was at it, Miriam had also chewed him out over his little name mix-up.

  Sammy had made him look like a fool once again. Playing pranks was probably normal for a seven-year-old. But Sammy unfortunately had no sense of proportion. For weeks, she'd been whispering wrong names to him, and he'd tried so hard to memorize them.

  Why didn't anyone ever correct me?

  The kid now thought she was a prank genius, but this should never have gone unnoticed for that long.

  When Mike sensed Monty sneaking up for one of his notorious surprise attacks, he had to suppress a groan. Another little sibling with absolutely no sense of proportion.

  The first time, he'd nearly ended up under those paws. Out of nowhere, Monty had charged at him at full gallop. Mike had just stared at the animal in bewilderment. It looked like an attack, but all he'd felt was playful joy. Still, if he hadn't jumped aside at the last second, he wouldn't be running any races today.

  Monty saw him as an older animal and practiced his hunting skills on him. The stupid nag completely ignored the fact that Mike wasn't a multi-ton longneck. Monty didn't believe for a second that he could actually hurt him.

  When Sammy was at school, Mike wandered the forests around the village. Most of the time, Monty eventually joined him. The animal had long since outgrown the small burrow. The longneck now lived on a meadow on the other side of the village. That way, their shared field of perception covered the entire village, and with his stare, Monty had no trouble keeping his distance from the humans.

  Today, Mike wasn't in the mood for Monty's daily murder attempt. So when he approached, instead of dodging, he focused on him. The animal slowed immediately and trotted over, disappointed. Mike patted him with a smile. Through focusing, he conveyed his mood. That was their most direct form of communication. Normally, Mike played along for his sake. Real danger sharpened the senses better than any exercise.

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  "Sorry, buddy. I don't have time for that today."

  He could already sense the Eternal Warriors player approaching the racecourse, and set off with little enthusiasm.

  Monty trotted back to the meadow, disappointed.

  That questgiver has some nerve. How was I supposed to know NPCs sleep?

  Lara had never visited the NPC village before and thought her idea of issuing the challenge right at midnight was perfectly logical. The other guild representatives were camped outside the village and had agreed on a lottery system to determine the next challenger. She could do without that.

  The Eternal Warriors didn't make friends with other guilds, and she couldn't care less if she offended anyone. Everyone was welcome to challenge her to a PvP. She hadn't expected, however, to be insulted by an extremely grumpy NPC. So I'm "borderline stupid"?

  She'd still been searching for the right words when the guy just walked away from her. Something had kept her from following him into the pit and dragging him out.

  The Eternal Warriors didn't tolerate disrespect, not even from NPCs. The guy had better be there. The Eternal Warriors didn't need another cook, but they'd sent Lara to claim this rare prize for their guild. When she arrived at the racecourse, the questgiver was indeed already waiting for her. He looked so annoyed, though, that it immediately set her off again.

  "I hope you'll watch how you talk to me this time," she greeted him, planting herself in front of him. "My name is Lara the Blood Dancer."

  Most players had heard of her and treated her with appropriate respect. This NPC, however, just rolled his eyes.

  "So are you actually ready for a race this time, or are you just here to make another appointment?"

  Unbelievable. Miriam had promised her he'd apologize, but there was no sign of that. "You need to learn how to address high-ranking players," she replied with a cool stare.

  "Or what, you'll throw your fancy dueling glove at me?"

  Lara was tempted to do exactly that, but then she felt an icy chill rising inside her. It was as though invisible eyes were sizing her up, promising a swift death if she threw that glove. Is this NPC not allowed to die? Am I being warned by the game itself?

  No wonder he was so insolent. She quickly shoved her hands into her pockets so the NPC wouldn't notice the trembling. "How could there even be a player duel with an NPC?" she asked gruffly, cutting off his reply. "Let's just run already."

  The questgiver shrugged, and they took their starting positions. Lara looked at him expectantly. The NPC gave a curt nod.

  The next moment, Lara was gone.

  Mike let out an involuntary whistle of appreciation. Did that crazy teenager just teleport? To the naked eye, nothing had been visible, but Mike could see the impossible: she'd expelled the greater part of her aura. Then she'd dissolved and been pulled toward her expelled aura like a magnet, bodyless.

  Good Lord, how do you dissolve your own body?

  It was frustrating. In their delusion, these lunatics developed the wildest abilities. They simply believed that anything was possible, and they were right often enough.

  But in whose hands did these absurd superpowers end up? This girl was in desperate need of a psychiatrist. His sixth sense was firing off alarms almost nonstop around her. Does she consider killing me during every exchange of words?

  That was the problem with players from the Collective. They only knew one response to perceived insults. The maniacs were convinced their player battles were being broadcast worldwide. So they hurled their silly dueling gloves at every opportunity.

  Although… it had been a while since he'd seen one of those gloves. Miriam said the Collective's players were gradually calming down. But this girl still behaved like it was the heyday of PvP.

  Teleportation was undeniably a powerful ability. But Lara was already breathing harder. Can she only expel her aura up to a certain point? She'd jumped barely ten meters, and it had visibly drained her.

  That disrespectful NPC is probably still staring at the spot where I just stood, she thought smugly.

  Long-range teleport jumps were exhausting, though. Combined with tree-running, however, she was nearly unbeatable. Lara leapt from tree to tree and bridged larger gaps with a teleport jump. She corrected imprecise jumps with shorter teleport hops. She called these mini-teleports "flickering." Nobody ran through the forest more flawlessly than her.

  Nobody except the questgiver.

  Her lead was melting away. The NPC took paths Lara would never have considered. He jumped through tiny gaps and never hesitated for even a second before launching. Lara had to stop briefly now and then to get her bearings, but this NPC never did.

  She was desperately gathering herself for another long teleport jump when the NPC suddenly hurled his knife at her. All Lara could do was watch it fly toward her. She tried to flicker but couldn't redirect her focus fast enough. Then the knife slammed into the tree beside her with the force of a cannonball.

  Missed!

  Lara drew her short swords and braced herself. But there it was again. That feeling. That… stare. She followed its direction involuntarily until it led her to the knife. She stared, open-mouthed, at the fireball the blade had pinned to the tree. What?! A fire arrow, the fastest form of a fireball. The projectile was slowly dissipating, breaking apart. Was that aimed at me?

  She was still scanning the forest in confusion when the questgiver shot forward, pulled his knife free, and in the same motion swatted an arrow out of the air. That one was definitely aimed at my head.

  The questgiver was about to launch himself off again when he stopped abruptly. "They're gone," he said, sounding puzzled, and looked toward a spot farther north.

  "Who the hell was that?" Lara was still looking around frantically.

  "Shattered," he murmured.

  Lara spun toward him in horror. He pointed at the arrow he'd knocked away, and they watched it dissolve. No doubt about it: the phantom shot, the signature ability of Slade, the most feared assassin of the Shattered. Why am I still alive?

  The arrow was invisible until impact. It passed through all matter between Slade and his target, homing in bodylessly. Many considered it the most dangerous ability in the entire game. Her own guild master had drawn inspiration from this very technique. Lara couldn't think of a higher compliment.

  "There were three of them," the questgiver continued, unfazed. "Slade, a fire mage, and a third one who teleported them out somehow."

  A different teleportation ability? And who hired the assassin guild to come after me?

  Even more mysterious than the Shattered and whoever had sent them was this NPC. She herself hadn't seen either of the cowardly attacks coming. Well, that was the assassin guild's specialty, after all.

  He deflected the phantom shot the instant it materialized. And how do you pin a fireball in place?