—— ? ——

  Miles away, another newly integrated being of the span was having a much better day than Serel was.

  Oulirah smiled as the cheers rose from the crowd of uncanny. She watched as they all nosed their way through the untold wealth that now lay within Rockfall Fortress.

  The operation had gone better than any of them could have hoped. The greedy nobles on the other side of the portal had at first been hesitant, but sent scouts to inspect the fortress. The unending frost was encroaching even faster, and after getting the reports from the scouts, the nobles had pounced.

  Greed had been their downfall.

  Protect and move people to the newly claimed ground? No… that was deemed a secondary priority.

  Instead, the nobles had prioritized protecting their own wealth, and so they had moved the wealth of their empires. Then their fear, combined with some well-placed words from Oulirah and Baljoran wearing the guise of their troops, had nailed their coffins shut.

  With the battles raging across multiple fronts, none of the empires in the alliance could spare more than a skeleton force to protect their wealth. The decision was made that the people of their realm would go to the next occupied land.

  Couldn’t let the common folk rise against their leaders in Rockwall Fortress.

  With how injured the disguised army of uncanny appeared, it had been decided that they should be the primary forces protecting the Fortress.

  The uncanny had dispatched the skeleton force of humans one by one, their bodies vanishing into the depths of the realm, and when the empires sent empty wagons to the Fortress to resupply their battle fronts? All they returned with were projectiles launched from newly added defensive weaponry.

  It had been delicious.

  Without supplies, without armaments, front after front fell. Then the counterattack began.

  The nobles, in their arrogance, had attempted to flee to Rockfall Fortress, disbelieving the scouts and infantry that had attempted to resupply. All of them had believed another of their hastily made alliance had betrayed them. All of them were sure it was their soldiers who had taken Rockfall.

  Battles broke out among them, and by the time they approached the fortress, they were broken and hounded by their own and the defenders leading the counterattack.

  It was a slaughter.

  Oulirah had a tense conversation with the elite squad of defenders from one of the portals that had been invaded. They demanded to know who they were and threatened to return with more troops to end what they thought was the last resistance from the invaders.

  One of their clan had finally grown tired of the conversation and shifted in view of them. They had yelled out that they were a peaceful group that had been invaded in just the same way.

  That had been enough.

  It helped that the unending frost was continuing to close in. The elite squad had left. Now, based on the Uncanny’s scouts, the way to access Rockfall Fortress would soon be impassable. The frost would seal the realm from anyone who tried to cross it.

  Oulirah watched as their people inspected item after item stored within the fortress. They now had the gathered wealth of empires.

  Not to mention the riches delivered by the so-called ‘system’.

  Oulirah had been surprised she had ranked fourth for the defenders. Apparently, her efforts in the battle and the subsequent operation had been highly regarded by the ‘system’.

  Baljoran approached, a grim look on their face. Oulirah met their eyes.

  “I am worried,” Baljoran said as they drew close. “I believe we have made a powerful enemy today.”

  “We were always going to make enemies in this new world.” Oulirah shrugged. “It was only a matter of time.”

  Baljoran nodded. “Agreed. Yet, I still worry. So many of our clan have placed their true names on the ‘leaderboard’. I imagine our enemy will have spies that have access to that.”

  Oulirah frowned. That was an issue. Many of theirs had not realized what that notice had meant.

  “We will weather this storm as we always have,” Oulirah reassured them. “We will just need to be careful.”

  With a mental pull, Oulirah pulled up the mentioned leaderboard and then scanned its contents.

  They looked back at Baljoran. “For now, we will celebrate our victory. We will simply need to grow our strength as quickly as we can.” They gestured toward the courtyard filled with untold wealth. “Fortune has blessed us with the seeds to do just that.”

  Baljoran laughed. “Fortune and a well-executed plan.”

  Oulirah nodded. “As it always is. One cannot feel the smile of Fortune without one.”

  They glanced at the board again, then added. “I believe we may need to send out some to learn of the other names on this list. If we only placed where we have, just what exactly did these other names do to earn their place?”

  Baljoran paused, then nodded. “I believe you are correct.” Their eyes flicked to the air and scanned as they read. “I would like to know just who exactly this one called “The Father” is. “

  “Agreed.”

  They stood in silence, both organizing the names from the list. Oulirah grimaced, wishing they could simply stay in their fortress and forget everything else.

  But that wasn’t prudent. Based on this event, it was possible that more invaders would come. They would need to be ready.

  “I do wonder about number six, though.” Baljoran broke the silence.

  Oulirah glanced at the name, then shook their head. “Ah, that one.”

  “It’s… a very odd title.”

  Baljoran nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. Are we understanding it correctly? I know this ‘system’ seems to translate meaning across cultures and species.” Baljoran waved out towards the road leading from Rockfall Fortress. “When I focused on the soldiers of the other defenders, I felt as if the words coming from their mouths were… different.” Baljoran shook their head in wonder. “Yet, I could still understand them and their meanings. As if they spoke our race's own tongue.”

  “It is odd.” Oulirah nodded. “But if that is true, then number six's name must be what we think it is.”

  Baljoran snorted. “Want to make a bet?”

  Oulirah eyed them. “On?”

  “If number six is mad. Or it's simply a cultural difference.” Baljoran grinned. “I bet mad. Who in their right mind calls themselves ‘Bunny Slayer’?”

  Oulirah squinted. “I’m not taking that bet. I, too, think the ‘Bunny Slayer’ is mad.”

  Baljoran looked disappointed. They eyed the other members of their clan in the stronghold.

  “Well, then I need to go discuss a few things with our younger members.” Baljoran grinned.

  Oulirah rolled their eyes in a complete circle and watched as Baljoran strode off to teach the young of their inexperience.

  Oulirah looked out towards the portal.

  “Bunny Slayer…” They muttered, scanning the leaderboard again.

  “What an odd choice.”

  —— ? ——

  In the darkness of the earth, the ‘Bunny Slayer’ groaned.

  This was bullshit.

  Just… WHY!?

  Simon grumbled to himself as he read the prompt again. Weren’t there like, safeguards or something for this?!

  Everything in his body hurt. His skin was cold and wet. Every breath was difficult and caused spasms of pain as he lay in the dark.

  He had finally come to some semblance of coherent thought, only to discover delirious Simon had been busyyyy.

  Fragments of the memory bubbled into his mind. He had read the notice. He had been informed he had placed sixth on the ‘leaderboard’.

  His pain-riddled, fevered mind had read the next prompt asking him to set his name.

  In his delirium, he had looked at the suggestions, then recoiled. God damned soul-sucking Anima Control. God damned injuries.

  “Nooooooo..” A pain-addled Simon had protested, the memory of it foggy still. “Datsss not my nameee! I’m not daa… ‘Snowy Savior’! Or what daaaa fuck is this edgy name? ‘Defiant Deviant’. ‘Divine Defier.’”

  He remembered frowning and letting out a string of curses. Then he doomed himself.

  “I’m Simon! No… I’m more… I’m… I’m the Bunny Slayer!”

  A pause.

  “Yes, yes! I’m the Bunny Slayer!!! Murderer of assholes. Confirm!”

  Then he had fallen into a restless void of something resembling sleep.

  Aren’t there like legal standards in this world? I was obviously not in my right mind! Simon grumbled to himself. Stupid fucking system.

  He sighed.

  There was nothing he could do about it. He had tried. The system had informed him that identity selection for the leaderboard was permanent once displayed.

  God damnit.

  Why couldn’t delirious Simon have picked a better name? Something like number one, ‘The Father.’ That gave serious mob boss energy.

  Or just his name. He saw Brian’s name on the board, as well as countless others.

  He could have just gone by ‘Simon’, or hell, ‘Starfall’ would have been great.

  But no.

  Simon cringed. He was now officially the “Bunny Slayer.” He searched his mind, desperately trying to remember if he had ever told anyone that name.

  He was feeling confident that he was safe. Hopefully, everyone just assumed he died. If he ever saw anyone from Varnholt, he would just say he never made it on the leaderboard.

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  Well…

  Assuming he made it out of wherever the hell he was.

  The last thing he remembered was playing Riptide and running from the avalanche. Then he had made Maelis experience unpowered flight before charging down the tunnel.

  Then he had fallen. And fallen. And finally slammed into the ground.

  Had he really said “That’s all, folks! This is Simon Starfall, signing off!”

  Simon sighed again.

  At least that asshole was dead. He had dozens of notifications from the battle. Apparently, the avalanche had killed the hive mind and its vessels… then a name he didn’t recognize. Simon pushed past those, reading the repeat message of ‘Experience banked pending class selection.’

  He skimmed most of these, but one gave him a dark sense of satisfaction.

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > You have slain Murgrulen “Maelis” Forogun - ‘The Metal Maniac’.

  > Experience has been gained!

  > Experience banked pending class selection.

  ——————————

  He had killed him.

  Simon had wrestled with the thought for a few moments. He had killed in this new world before. Monsters. Golems.

  But a person?

  Simon was a bit worried. He expected it to bother him more. Yet, if he could do it again?

  Simon would. No doubt in his mind. Some people just needed killing.

  Maelis was an example of that.

  Simon pushed those thoughts from his mind. He would have time to mull it over. Right now, his body was broken, and he was lying at the bottom of a pitch-black pit.

  He had no fucking idea how he was getting out of this. He could barely move. Hell, just breathing hurts right now.

  That didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes as he read one of the achievements he had gotten.

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE —-

  > ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED

  > Name: Broken Bones Club - Initiate!

  > Description: Welcome to the Broken Bones Club! You have broken more than half of the bones in your body at once while at less than 20% health. Somehow you survived! In recognition of your… resolve… You have been granted this achievement! Once your bones have healed, you will gain the following effects.

  > Effects:

  >> Sticks & Stones: The overall density of your bones has increased, and their healing capabilities have been enhanced.

  Rewards:

  >> +5 Vitality. +2 Endurance

  > Note: If your bones are set incorrectly, the effect of this achievement may backfire as the effort to break and reset your bones will be increased.

  Good luck with your recovery!

  ——————————

  Despite the darkness, Simon squinted as he read the notice.

  “Stupid system.” He muttered.

  It wasn’t wrong, though. Pain shot from his ribs. From his legs, his back, and his arms.

  Just great. He got an achievement for becoming a human ragdoll. Neat.

  Simon was cold; his body shivered as he lay there in the dark. But at least he wasn’t dead?

  He glanced at his health. 14% according to his status. It didn’t seem to be going down? So he had that at least.

  But what if he got hypothermia? If he just froze to death in this damned pit in the back of a cave?

  Rescue was unlikely. Hell, he doubted anyone in Varnholt knew he was alive.

  The complete darkness around him amplified whenever he completely closed his interface. At least with the system notices, he had the illusion

  Was this his fate? To just die in the dark? After everything, this was the way he went? Not buried under snow. Not fried against the barrier, or slain by the ‘Metal Maniac’. No, he was going to die in the dark in the bottom of a goddamn cave.

  These thoughts tired him. Everything sucked. Maybe… it was…

  No.

  He shook that dark thought from his mind. No, he was going to keep fighting. He wasn’t dead yet, and he wasn’t going to give up.

  He would move forward. He would keep going.

  He had promised himself that.

  Simon dug back into the notices, trying to find something he could use.

  From telling Varrax go suck rocks, he had apparently gotten a new class option!

  ——————————

  > You currently have 6 class options available to you.

  …

  >> Option 6: ???

  > Note: Visit a hub to learn more and choose. More options may become available based on effort and achievement.

  Harmony is offered. Growth is earned. Limits are Unknown

  ——————————

  How fucking useless!

  Simon also had a new skill.

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > NEW SKILL ACQUIRED

  > Name: Vicious Performance

  > Type: Uncommon

  > Level: 3

  > Description: While most bards use their words to hurt their foes, you choose a different path. Through auditory horror, you scrape at the minds of all within earshot. The countless realms will fear your musical might.

  > Effect:

  >> Discordant Notes - Channeled - While channeling, you unleash an intentionally discordant performance that inflicts Mental Strain on all who hear it. Depending on the auditory abilities of the targets, this may cause a reduction in focus, coordination, and emotional stability. Sensitive targets will experience a stunning effect. Complex actions, skills, and spellcraft may suffer delays or misfires. The effect of discordant notes may increase over channel time.

  > Cost: Channeling consumes stamina, depending on the complexity and volume of the performance.

  ——————————

  It was official. Simon’s musical ability was now considered a weapon.

  “Everyone’s a critic,” he grumbled. “Even the damned system.”

  Still, Simon grinned in the dark. He could now commit wide acts of psychological warfare.

  He imagined the uses. Like when he was being banished from Varnholt. The look on everyone's face would have been… awesome.

  Although… He would definitely have been knocked out and thrown out of town.

  He had gone through every notice. None of the kill notices helped. Simon understood what the Phestun was and what its vessels were. Simon had no clue what a ‘nodceian’ was, but apparently, he had killed some of them.

  Simon finally got to read the skill he had stolen from Varrax.

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > NEW SKILL ACQUIRED

  > Name: Steps of the Shifting Echo - Growth

  > Type: Unique - Uncommon

  > Level: 1

  > Description: Areyn Stridebreaker was a bard whose stage was the battlefield. However, she was not always so battle-focused. In her early years, she could be found moving at speed through the craggy reaches of her home, The Steel Steps. Gifted with rhythm, her mad dashes across the rocks of her home and the thin air of their mountain top home taught her the basis for this skill. Areyn never imagined herself a warrior, but the battlefield found her regardless. Deserters from the wars that raged in the fertile valleys below made their way to the Steel Steps. The peaceful townsfolk fought back, but ultimately failed to repel them.

  Areyn returned from her daily sprint to find her town ransacked and empty. She pulled herself from her despair and left her mountain home with a goal.

  Revenge and rescue.

  Every step, breath, and movement of every day was directed to fulfill it. She commissioned boots of steel, which she wore to remind her of her home and mission. She vowed to wear them until her task was complete. She took every advantage she could and sold her faith to anyone who would allow her to fulfill her desires. While under the banner of the Martial God Varrax, her will finally solidified the skill ‘Steps of the Shifting Echo’.

  She succeeded in her goal, the last deserter from that fateful day falling beneath her gleaming boots. She gathered the last survivors of the Steel Steps and returned to rebuild her home.

  Her steel boots can still be found there, hung on a metal spike in the great hall.

  > Effect:

  >> Steps of Intent - Channeled - Your intent guides your movement, even when your mind cannot. The body will act to fulfill the will behind the step. With intent, all things become possible. When moving with a clear goal, your body will correct your movements to help you achieve it. Your belief in your action determines the extent to which your body can adjust itself. Further effects are sealed pending skill growth.

  > Cost: 2% of total stamina per minute. Repeated use of this skill may cause mental pain or be less effective.

  > Duration: Based on user focus. Loss of focus or consciousness will immediately cancel this skill's effect.

  ——————————

  Simon felt a kinship with Areyn. He wondered what had happened to her, considering he had stolen the skill from Varrax.

  He had no idea how any of this worked, yet it still made him even more pissed at the asshole of a god.

  Had Varrax taken the skill on her death? Was that possible?

  So many questions. And the pit of darkness wasn’t shining a light on anything anytime soon.

  Simon had run out of notices.

  Well.. Except for one that he had been avoiding.

  Simon cringed and took a breath. He needed to check everything.

  Even notices where his delirious self had made horrible mistakes. He briefly glanced at the event conclusion.

  Damn. 556 offensive victories? Simon wasn’t entirely sure, but that felt like a lot. It meant at least that many armies backed by the asshole had taken over system hubs.

  Should be ‘fun’ trying to find one where I can get my class. He grumbled.

  If Simon could move his arm without screaming in pain, he would have face-palmed after reading the next notice

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > You have chosen: “Bunny Slayer.”

  > Name assigned and displayed.

  > Leaderboard Rank: 6.

  > Distributing reward.

  ——————————

  … reward?

  —- SYSTEM NOTICE—-

  > EVENT REWARD

  > Name: Token of Growth

  > Rarity: Legendary

  > Tier: ?

  > Source: Realm Fusion Event - Defender Leaderboard (Rank 6)

  > Description: Your presence influenced and changed the outcome of an entire battlefield. You battled an army, and through your actions directly caused their defeat. As an unaffiliated force, you could have fled, yet you stood your ground.

  In recognition of your achievements and potential, a token has been granted.

  >Effect:

  >> Once claimed, the Token of Growth will appear on your person. Your achievements, growth, and potential will be measured, and an appropriate challenge will be set. This challenge will be attuned to help the owner of the token grow and develop. Should you choose to accept, crushing the token will cause you to be teleported to the start of the trial.

  >Note: This challenge will only occur within the owner's current span. This token will not send you to any realm not connected to the current integration. If you succeed in your trial, and that trial is within a realm connected to the span, the ownership of the trial realm will fall to you.

  > Warning: Challenge difficulty depends on token owner. Death is likely during the trial, and may be possible if you are unsuccessful in completing it.

  Harmony is offered. Growth is Earned. Limits are unknown.

  Good luck, Simon Starfall.

  ——————————

  Simon read the notice carefully. He tried to derive anything he could based on its description.

  But this was a way out.

  It specifically mentioned teleporting away.

  He took mental stock of his current physical state.

  Yup. Simon was fucked.

  His health had risen half a percent. He was healing. Slowly.

  But he was healing. He could feel the open wounds across his body, the fractures in his bones. Simon’s body was knitting itself together, but he had no idea how long it would take.

  Right now, he doubted he could sit up without immense pain. Maybe his skills would help him stomach it? But he didn’t want to try that right now.

  He had two options.

  Door number one: Lie in the dark and try to heal. Try not to die from the ever-growing chill that crept into him. Even now, he had started to shake, as the wet cold permeated everything.

  Door number two: Take the mystery token and show up in some random fucking place. Maybe something like the Realm of the Forger?

  Shit.

  If he ended up in a place like that, he would instantly die.

  But his other option was to potentially die from hypothermia. Assuming that was the way he died. There was always the possibility of some creature coming out of the dark to munch on a Simon snack.

  Varnholt Valley, in Simon’s experience, was filled with nasty, bloodthirsty creatures.

  Simon sighed.

  He felt his extremities. There was something in his right hand… metal?

  Ohhhh… the hammer. Ha. Fuck you, Maelis. It’s my hammer now.

  Not that he could use it to fight. Maybe he would pick up blacksmithing out of spite.

  Simon was stalling.

  There was only one valid choice in his mind.

  His eyes stung, and he slammed them shut as radiant light burst out from above his empty hand.

  Simon felt something slap into it, and he craned his neck to look. Soft, glowing light radiated from the fractal designs of the thing in his palm.

  Should he wait?

  The cold wasn’t going to get better. His shivers made him grimace in pain as they shook broken bones and wounds.

  Fuck it.

  He hissed in pain as he clutched the token and it crumbled beneath his fingers.

  Then a feeling he hadn’t felt for weeks took hold. He had last felt it right before he was teleported above Varnholt Valley. The same feeling he had when he was yanked from one divine realm to another.

  He was being teleported the same way, off to his new adventure. Broken bones, bruises, bleeding wounds, cuts, and scratches.

  Perfect fighting shape.

  Simon vanished.

  —— ? ——

  — AUTHOR NOTICE —-

  You may have noticed that the posting time has changed. With the last chapters and book 2, I'm going to shift to an earlier time.

  Also, I pulled in some people to help with scheduling and my social media! Super exciting, and will end up with everything being much more consistent :)