Rush to Level 0: The Game (Chapter 13)

Two gremlins appeared above me as I reached for the ledge. By now, I had become so accustomed that I didn’t even blink. Two arrows zipped past me, hitting each gremlin in the throat. The creatures let out gurgling sounds, then collapsed. With luck, they wouldn’t bleed up the stone platform.

“All clear!” I shouted. “Are you close to the next deleveling?”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. Despite what was claimed about lower-levels, he was touchy on the subject. “Climb up and tell me what you see.”

Several hundred feet separated me from the base of the core chamber. According to Goth, all we had to do was get there and claim the prize. I had my doubts. The spell he’d performed had wiped every living creature from the level, but that hadn’t ended the sudden surprise attacks. Goth called them countermeasures—gremlins popping out of walls like hatchlings and charging at me.

“Nothing here.” I said once on the platform. “No loot either.” I waited hoping for a chuckle. The silence made it clear that my joke had gone unappreciated. “Hold on a bit. I’ll look around.”

I walked past the corpses. Goth had explained that all dead creatures had a timed disappearance cycle. There was no indication of that here.

“All good.” I went back to the ledge. “Throw the rope and I’ll pull you up.”

Goth nodded and took out a coil of rope from thin air. Although he tried to downplay it, that was more than slightly significant. The game didn’t have an inventory. I had tried putting the dagger I had in the status window and nothing had happened. Goth, on the other hand, had made use of a variety of weapons, not to mention artifacts, that he hadn’t entered the cave with.

Once tossed, the rope wrapped itself round my hand with no effort. Shortly after, I felt a slight tug—Goth had made a makeshift harness and was waiting to get pulled up.

Like pulling up a kitten. “How many things do you carry there?” I asked. “Is it like an infinity pouch?”

“A few.” Goth was doing his best to climb along the rock surface as I pulled. The technique was adequate, but he lacked the strength to follow it through.

“What’s the treasure?” I asked once he was on the platform.

“Who knows? An artifact, an instant delevel, part of a larger puzzle...” He untied the rope, and it disappeared in the blink of an eye. “You don’t get a pick. You’ve here to watch.”

So much for small talk. Goth knelt down to collect the arrows from the gremlin corpses, then went ahead. I followed behind him.

Our target was a giant spire of rock in the far end of the chamber: the only distinctly artificial structure other than the entrance path. I expected it to be located in the center of the cave cluster, but instead it was the furthest point from the entrance. From my current vantage point, three guard columns were visible, similar to the stalagmite we passed on our way here. Goth had warned me more guard gremlins could emerge from there. So far, none had.

The massive rock structure looked slightly reddish. A single flight of steps had been carved into its surface, heading to the interior. Quite the direct approach… too direct for my taste.

“That way?” I pointed.

“Yep. Grab the knife.”

With each step, I expected a swarm of gremlins to appear and charge at us. My professional streaming career had taught me that the difficulty of the threat was proportional to the length of the calm preceding it. Supposedly, there was a precise formula—patented, of course—created by the psychology-game design school which was used in all major MMOs. Possibly for that reason, I had kept counting the steps as we walked in. On the twenty-fifth, my hunch proved correct.

The moment my foot touched the surface, green lines emerged, spreading out on both sides. I watched them crawl up the walls and meet in the ceiling right above me, forming a virtual archway around me. Immediately I stopped, raising my left hand in the air.

“What happened?” Goth whispered.

“Four lines.” I took a step back. The lines remained there. “They’re on the slab, continuing to the side.” Like an invisible barrier. “No symbols or letters. Just lines. Seen anything like this before?”

“No.” The pitch of his voice was noticeably higher than before. “Did your status change?”

I opened my status window. For the most part, it was the same: my level hadn’t budged, and neither had my experience. There was one additional piece of information, though, which hadn’t been there before.

Godlike cannot be sacrificed!

A sacrificial barrier. I had seen similar things in raid groups. Officially, it was a method to ensure that only groups of a certain size would reach a combat zone. Unofficially, it was yet another method through which game companies could sell sacrifice tokens. The fact that such a barrier was placed here told me two things: that we were approaching a boss fight, and that there was a reason for Goth to have me go first.

“It says I can’t be sacrificed.” No point in having him get killed. I still needed to get out of here. Besides, I might need to remind him of this gesture later on. “Sacrifice barrier?”

“Give me your hand.” He reached out to me. I did as asked. “Contact immunity,” he explained. “Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.”

I took a few steps forward, and then Goth followed. Thankfully, nothing happened.

“It worked,” he whispered, pulling his hand away.

After another twenty-five steps, another sacrifice barrier appeared. This one only had three lines.

“Shouldn’t lights appear when we do this?” I asked as we repeated the process.

“This isn’t a game,” the boy hissed.

Ironic, since that’s what everyone refers to it as.

“Nothing is free. You want light, you have to bring your own.”

“Either that or night vision,” I replied.

“Good one.” Goth smirked.

Five steps later, the flight took a sharp turn to the tight. After a while, I could see the end—a rather ornate stone door. Green symbols covered it, all strange and elaborate and far too complicated for me to describe.

“There’s a door.” I walked on. “Lots of symbols on it. Want me to describe them?”

“Step aside.” A ball of blue light appeared in the palm of his right hand. “And don’t let go.”

Before I could say something, he grabbed my hand, then threw a ball of blue light towards it. The door exploded. The soundwave was strong enough to push me back, even if I only heard a pop.

Then the gremlins burst out. Red-skinned creatures poured into the corridor, rushing over the floor and walls like cockroaches.

Goth didn’t hesitate. A second ball of light flew forward, scorching enemies as it passed. The flow shrank to a trickle as new gremlins emerged to take the place of the killed. The boy reached out, grabbing a scimitar from the air, then rushed forward.

Don’t attack, I thought and let myself be guided.

My level hundred senses allowed me to feel the direction of any tug, no matter now slight; my reaction speed let me do what he wanted me to with almost no delay. It was almost like going through a tutorial—perform the specified action within the specified time period and without the risk of dying. There was only one difference; for Goth, the battle was very real.

Directing me in front like a dance partner, he let me take the brunt of the gremlin’s attacks. The creatures, more aggressive and stupid, lashed out at the nearest human they could get at. Their claws bounced off me without leaving a mark. Goth’s grip loosened slightly as he went into a counterattack.

Three precise slashes. That was all it took to kill six gremlins. I didn’t doubt that the weapon was special, but even so, I could see real-life skills were involved. These definitely weren’t the actions of someone who had learned in a game or virtual martial arts classes. Someone in the real world had taught him, and had taught him thoroughly.

Hope that connection is good enough for you, Claire. It wasn’t much to go by, but enough for a dark broker to start looking.

Building on his momentum, Goth glided on in front of me. The smell of blood intensified, making me slightly nauseous. I’d never liked that particular sensation in games, even before the government had changed the age restriction requirements.

Bodies kept piling on the stairs while we moved forward. The goth teen in me would have called it a dance of death. The jaded pragmatic I had become didn’t see it as anything that romantic. Very much the opposite; it was a painful reminder how unsuited for the game I was. Up to now, I had been so full of myself, pleased I had exploited a few trifles. My arrangement with the Depository, the deals in the Village, the double tasks I’d bluffed my way into taking… they were nothing compared to what awaited. Playing in the virtual world was only half of it. If I wanted to survive, I had to learn in the real world as well. Firestarter knew that; that’s why she had stopped relying on game skills.

“Go through!” Goth pressed his back to the wall.

We were only a few steps away, but there were no indications that the gremlins were decreasing. My pulse rushed. I knew that the gremlins couldn’t harm me, but that did not quell my inner fears.

Stay, a voice said in the back of my mind. An accidental delevel, and they’ll kill you.

In my mind, I saw myself be torn to shreds and get ejected from the game. This was the first time I’d had such a reaction to a game death. Of course, dying in the game was pretty much dying in real life as well.

Some other time.

I dashed. Passing through the gremlin attacks was like running through jelly. Their claws and arms felt like marshmallows trying to push me back. Years of gaming habits yelled at me to use my weapon to cut off a few hands, or at least paralyze enough enemies to ensure I’d pass through. I ignored them. Gritting my teeth, I sprinted on.

A loud pop echoed in my ears the instant I passed the threshold. The realization sent chills through me. Ignoring everything else, I opened my status window.

Level: 100

Powers: Godlike

Rule 4: Godlike cannot be sacrificed!

XP to level 99: 2364

I felt deep relief. I was still hanging on to my immunity power, even if barely. Two thousand experience just for entering the chamber? From the little I’d seen so far, the game was as generous with experience as players were with information. Even without a point of reference, I could assume that that much experience for a non-combat activity was considerable—something to keep in mind if I came across more dungeons.

“Let go!” Goth shouted behind me.

Before I could, the entrance closed off behind us.

“Let go!” he repeated. I did. “Move.” He pushed me a few steps forward, halfway to the center of the room. “Stay there until I say so!”

“Cool it!” I snapped back. The sudden shock had removed any fear of reverence I had. “What’s your problem?!”

My tone caught him off guard. I saw a glint of fear in his eyes, the type that only grown-ups could instill.

“I…”

“Look, it’s been a trip.” I got my emotions in check. “You’re used to this. I’m not. Give me a moment to catch my breath, okay? I can be your shield or pissed, but not both.”

There was a slow nod.

“Good. What happens now?”

The room around us was shaped like a dome, or rather like an arena. Despite all attempts for the game to be close to real life, the boss stages followed old school level design mechanics: a single wide space, with no obstacles or means to escape. Once the battle started, it was likely that nothing from the outside would interfere, and only once the boss monster was defeated would the entrance re-emerge.

“The center of the arena is a trigger point. When someone walks there, the event triggers. There’s not many set principles. Arenas always come with enemies, though. Sometimes part of the arena collapses after the trigger.”

I glanced at the center. Way to ramp up the difficulty.

“Center or edge,” he continued. “Always one of the two.”

Didn’t sound too reassuring.

“What’s your level?”

Silence.

“Goth, I need to know,” I lied.

“Fifty-two.”

“Not exactly a low level.”

“Everyone close to fifty is a low-level. Only twenty-seven have gone lower.”

“Twenty-seven you know of,” I corrected out of habit.

“In total. The village obelisk keeps a record. You’ll see it if you reach level seventy-five. Everyone past the mid-level barrier is counted. No names, just a number.”

Twenty-seven? There was no telling whether he was lying, not until I deleveled to that point and checked for myself.

“What about—” I stopped. First mistake of the rookie—overconfidence. I had almost slipped. There was no telling what affiliations Legion had. “What about the Lady?”

“She’s special.”

“Sure.” I didn’t need to be a lower-level to know when someone was being manipulated. “Let’s finish this. What do I need to do?”

“Stay there. I’ll go to you if I need to.” A crossbow appeared in his hands. “If you use any spells, we both die.”

My fingers itched to grab hold of the dagger I had, even if I suspected it would be useless. Bosses were generally granted ability immunity. There was no reason things here would be different, though I felt considerably more comforted knowing I had a weapon.

When Goth reached the center, it happened. Green symbols flashed through the floor, spreading along the walls like a wave. An instant later, they were gone. Goth didn’t remain static for long, quickly leaping back… right in time to avoid a massive object falling from the ceiling.

The whole chamber shook. In modern day, every person saw thousands of massive VR boss creatures ranging from competent to outright incredible. Vesperia at one point prided itself with four of the top ten most detailed bosses, before they had fallen behind in the graphics department. Nothing I’d ever seen before compared to the monster I was looking at now. It’s size and texture made me feel like a pez dispenser placed before a Roman statue. But what terrified me was the design itself—monstrous, yet more human than I’d expected. It didn’t simply breach the uncanny valley; it continued beyond it.

A four-legged humanoid with a tall slender frame looked down at me, her eyes glowing in a deep soulless blue. Thick skin covered the creature like a plastic shell, and it was constantly moving.

So, this was the hive-mother. She didn’t resemble the goblins in the slightest. Her hands and face were almost human-like, and she didn’t appear to have any fangs or claws. On that same note, she didn’t have any clothes either, nor weapons.

“Look away!” Goth shouted.

I felt a sharp smack on my cheek. It was the edge of a scimitar.

“Mirror image,” he added, before jumping away. “It’s just a mirror—”

Something slammed onto me, drilling me into the floor up to my ankles. There was more pain than shock. When I looked up, the creature had changed form. No longer did I feel a crushing divine presence. Instead, I saw what I had initially expected to see—a grotesque monster. Pear-shaped and wretched, it had an unmistakable gremlin-like appearance, even if it were five times larger. Bloodshot eyes glared at me, while snot slid from the large mismatched nostrils onto boar-like tusks.

“Don’t move!” Three arrows hit the side of the monster’s face, like toothpicks into an olive.

The creature roared, slamming me sideways. I saw the strength of the attack, but didn’t feel a thing. The ground around me cracked.

Balls of green light flew over my shoulder, hitting the hive-mother in the chest. They seemed to be similar to the ones Goth had used to kill the gremlins before, but only managed to push the monster back. With each subsequent attack, he was getting weaker.

“Need help?” I stepped out of the holes in the floor.

The monster’s giant fist punched Goth, slamming him into the wall. He didn’t seem harmed either, although moments after the crash I saw a broken bracelet appear round his hand, then crumble to the ground.

“Goth!” I pointed my hand at the creature.

It would be so easy. One single spell, and I could kill the creature in an instant. I wouldn’t have to wait for Goth’s dancing around or risk getting ejected.

“Don’t!” he shouted. A bright blue light emerged from his chest, piercing the hive-mother’s hand.

The gremlin let out a road of pain and retreated several steps back. I grasped the window of opportunity and dashed to Goth. My speed surprised me. Did that mean I could have run as fast all this time?

“How’s your health?” I asked. There were no visible indications he was hurt.

“It’s not the health,” he hissed. Apparently, artifacts didn’t reduce pain. “It’s the mana. I can’t cast a proper spell.”

Just great.

Another roar filled the chamber. Both of us reacted instantly, jumping off in different directions. Claws tore the wall where we’d been, as if it were wax.

Nasty creature, I thought. Nasty and annoying. It didn’t have special attacks, nor weapons, just annoying physical speed and fast reflexes. Considering everything I’d seen in the world so far, this seemed remarkably low-tech in comparison.

“Contact immunity!” I shouted as the hive-mother charged at him. “How does that work?”

“Not the time!” There was a metallic cracking sound. Goth was running out of artifacts. Fetching a mace of nothingness, he struck the arms of the gremlin in a series of strikes. The creature growled in pain, and still there were no visible wounds on its skin.

Double or nothing.

Grabbing my dagger, I ran to Goth. The hive-mother must have perceived me as a threat, for she quickly retreated back to the center of the chamber. Creature or not, it still followed behavior patterns, and a godlike entity with a weapon was seen as a higher threat.

“Cast a spell,” I said, grabbing him with my free hand. This had better work. “Do it!”

A ball of light emerged, this one so bright that it was almost white, crackling with a smell of ozone. Holding his breath, Goth cracked it with his hand, then threw it forward. There was a loud pop. A hole emerged in the hive mother’s left arm, eating into part of her torso. Not as impressive as I had hoped, but it still did some damage, unlike everything else so far. A few seconds later, the hole doubled in size, then again, and again, like an invisible mouth was devouring parts of the gremlin into nothingness. Ten seconds later, and the chamber was empty once more.

“Let go.” Goth pulled his hand away, as if he had done me a favor. Typical teenage arrogance.

“You’re welcome.” I wasn’t going to let this slide.

“You were lucky. Sometimes it doesn’t work.”

I checked my status window again. No gained experience.

“Did you get any XP?”

“Some.” He walked back to the center of the room.

Three doorways appeared in the wall. One led back to the flight of stairs that had brought us here, gremlin corpses still covering the steps. The one across it continued to a similar stairway heading upwards. The third opened to a small alcove containing a stone altar.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“My prize.” Goth went to the altar. Kneeling down, he peeled off something from the side and got back up again. I tried to get a better look. There was nothing special there, just stone and geometrical shapes carved in the upper part. A few circular holes caught my attention.

“Let’s go.” Goth stepped away. “We’ve got two more before you’re done.”

“What did you take?”

“Nothing.”

Not the response I was hoping for.

“Level fifty has been reached,” a loud voice echoed all around, as if coming from the cave. “World shattering starting in twelve seconds.”

World shattering? I looked up. The last time I’d heard this, a culling beast had appeared and ejected a player.

“Relax.” Goth calmly went towards the stairs heading up. “Tombs and mazes are exempt. We won’t be part of the selection.”

He stopped turning around to display a smile that combined a sense of achievement, superiority, and grandeur all mixed in one.

“You triggered it.” My throat felt dry. “You reached level fifty.”

“Yep.” Goth’s smile widened. “I’m number twenty-eight.”