It was a very sad day when we realised that our time at the cabin was coming to an end. There was nothing left for us there anymore. We had milked every single stat gain we could from the place.
I was surprised by how much the thought upset me. Truthfully, they had been some of the best months of my life. Had it been repetitive? Sure. Had it been painful at times? Sure. But there was no doubt we'd accomplished something.
I also very much enjoyed the simplicity of it all – to wake up every day with a clear goal and something to work towards felt pretty good. It was even better because I was the one benefitting from the work. I was the one growing stronger. I was the one becoming tougher. It held a sense of satisfaction that my job on Earth never had.
And despite how obnoxious he could be at times, Rel was a decent enough fellow.
"I guess that's that, then," I said, my eyes roaming over the inside of the cabin for what might be the last time.
We had very little in the way of possessions, so it didn't take us long to prepare to leave. We'd turned the bedsheet into a makeshift satchel to carry what was left of our 'food'. I was a little bit concerned about what we'd do when it came to bedtime, but Rel assured me that he'd acquired some 'reliable intel' from a fellow arboreal observer, who assured him that there was a town less than a day's walk from our current location.
Rel, I had noticed, had been very quiet the past few days, and I was starting to become concerned about him. No bragging. No arrogance. No unsolicited advice. Maybe he was sick?
He was waiting for me outside when I left the cabin.
"We'd better get moving then," he said. Again, his voice was just… flat.
I stood and looked at him for a few moments, but then I shrugged. I wouldn't push it. He'd tell me what was bothering him when he was ready. I went to take a step and then paused.
"Erm, where did your friend say the town was again?" I asked.
I saw a brief flicker of the old Rel as he very nearly responded with a sarcastic comment, but then he just nodded his head to our left and started walking. As he was not in a conversational mood, I figured I'd do the heavy lifting. I spoke about my life on Earth. My family. My job. My obsession with Coca Cola.
Damn I missed that stuff.
After around fifteen minutes of walking, I realised I could no longer hear Rel's light footsteps disturbing the leaves as he walked. I looked back and he'd… stopped moving. I turned and walked back towards him.
"Is everything okay, buddy?" I asked.
He looked up at me and my jaw dropped when I saw his face. He looked sad and his eyes were actually glistening a little!
"Yes," he said, as he turned his head to look back the way we'd come. "It's just…" He gave an embarrassed shrug.
I knelt down beside him and patted his shoulder. "It's just what?"
"It's just that this area is my home. I've never left it before."
Oh. Damn. I felt a little guilty when I realised how little I knew about Rel, despite all the time we'd spent together. I reached up and scratched the back of my head guiltily when I realised the past three months had almost exclusively been focused around how to ensure my stats continued to improve.
"You don't have to leave if you don't want to," I said softly.
He cleared his throat and then looked up at me. I was a little relieved - and a little nervous - when I saw that an edge of mischief had returned to his eyes.
"And let you go on your own?" he said, his voice growing more confident with each word. "You wouldn't last a week without me. You'd probably get lost and starve to death in the middle of nowhere."
"Pfft… starve to death?" I said, though I couldn't help but smile. "You devour the sludge bars like someone who's been stranded on a desert island and hasn't seen food for a month. Without you demolishing my supply, they'd last way longer."
Sul'Kan, Warlord of Morourdia and Conqueror of the Dexan Solar System, stood in the shadow of a copse of trees, a savage smile splitting his lips as he watched his next victims approach.
He rested a hand on the hilt of his sword, Bone Reaver. He had received it a week earlier as a reward for slaying the final boss of the third level of The Tower of Potential. In that short time, he had already harvested the souls of fourteen fellow Trialists, the sword growing in power each time.
He flashed up the Leaderboard for kill score and glowered at seeing his name in third place. Unacceptable. He was known by his people as the Bloodletter and would bring shame upon his clan if he did not claim the first spot before the year was up.
He studied the two beings that were drawing nearer. The savage smile returned at the thought that their deaths might be enough to earn him the second spot. They were a strange pair. One was an almost entirely furless man. His face seemed to be fixed in an expression of perpetual gormlessness, looking around as if he was seeing the world for the first time.
His companion was perhaps even stranger. It was a tiny, fluffy creature, and its bushy tail was almost as big as the rest of its body. On first glance, Sul'Kan would have dismissed it as weak and pitiful, but the more he observed it, the more he began to revise his opinion. The creature moved with a sense of self-assuredness that would rival many of the monarchs he had met.
Hmm. Perhaps it was best to be cautious with that one - surely such arrogance could not be born of nothing.
He drew Bone Reaver from its scabbard as he stepped from the shadows to bar their path. The little fluffy creature spoke first.
"Look at the size of his sword!" it said in a squeaky voice.
Sul'Kan's smile deepened. It was good that they recognised the potency of his blade – they would understand the folly of attempting to fight back. The furless man raised a palm to his face and shook his head.
"Phrasing, Rel!" he said. "You need to think before you speak."
"What do you mean phrasing?" replied the so called 'Rel' before raising a little paw to indicate Sul'Kan's sword. "It's massive! I bet sticking that thing in someone could do some real damage."
The furless man groaned and Sul'Kan could just about make out the words he muttered under his breath.
"Is this seriously what my life has become?"
Sul'Kan looked at one and then the other, lost for words for the first time in hundreds of years. What was wrong with these people? He cleared his throat and then assumed his most fearsome scowl. Countless enemies had pissed themselves at the sight of it.
"I think he's trying to intimidate us," squeaked Rel. "And honestly, it's working. He looks a little demented."
The furless man raised an eyebrow. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked. "If you want to rob us, don't bother. All we have is a bedsheet full of the blandest food you could possibly imagine."
Then the man raised a finger as if he'd just stumbled upon a profound insight. "Although you could take Rel if you wanted. There's not much meat on his bones, but I reckon he'd be pretty tasty with the right seasoning."
"Fuck you, Julian."
Again… what was wrong with these people? Enough.
"Silence, you fools," snarled Sul'Kan. "I am Sul'kan, Warlord of Morourdia and Conqueror of the Dexan Solar System. Hand over all of your belongings and you may yet leave this place with your lives."
He was, of course, lying. He found playing with his kills made the whole experience a little more enjoyable. Give them a little whiff of hope. Make them believe that their lives might be spared if they comply. And then watch the despair ignite in their eyes when they realise there would be no mercy.
"Hey, you were right. He does want to rob us!" said Rel. "I suppose everyone has to be right at least once in their lifetime."
Julian aimed a kick at 'Rel' but the fluffy creature dodged it with surprising grace and agility.
"ENOUGH!" roared Sul'Kan.
He charged forward, bringing his sword down in a devastating strike that would have cleaved a building in half. He was doom. He was destruction. He was death.
It bounced off the man's shoulder, the only evidence of the attack a cut in his tunic.
"You dick!" the man said, reaching up and putting a finger through the hole in the fabric. "This is my favourite shirt."
"It's your only shirt," corrected Rel.
Sul'Kan looked at his sword. He looked at the man. He looked at the furry creature. He turned and ran.
"What an asshole," I murmured, watching the enormous hairy creature scurry off into the distance. "He should change his name to 'Sul'kan, Warlord of Ruining Clothing'."
Rel snorted.
"I'm glad the sword was fake, at least," I said. "What sort of self-respecting bandit doesn't even use a real weapon?"
"That guy was a tool. I mean, seriously, who refers to themselves as a warlord or a conqueror?" said Rel.
"True that."