Dirty Avatars: An Isekai Gone Wrong

Chapter 17: Chapter 16: The City of Sterling I


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Chapter 16: The City of Sterling I


[ERMIRE PROVINCE - Mountain Base]

It took them half a day to reach the foot of the mountain and enter the grasslands. They had set out in the morning, and soon enough the dew dried and the sun started to bear down upon them. Cain soon found that he enjoyed the feeling of the sunlight, which poked through from behind the wagon, dancing upon his skin.

“Bombardier to C-4,” said Ronove.

“Archer to F-10,” replied Baal, who was sitting around the table enjoying a book. Cain couldn’t tell if it was some sort of report or novel. The cover was pure black with no other markings.

Muse groaned as Webby massaged her feet.

Even though she could’ve made it back to the Silver Seat in less than half the time, she appreciated the relief that travelling like this gave her poor, poor soles. She could deal with the motion sickness, but all the survey missions she had been pulling in the last few months really added up.

“Bombardier to C-6.”

“Templar, C-3,” said Baal. “Good game.”

Ronove suppressed a groan.

The two of them had been playing since they left the village in the morning. Out of necessity, since Ronove was driving the vehicle, they were playing out loud without setting up the board, the entire game simply in their imagination.

Cain remembered there were chess players capable of that back home. He had learned from... somebody how to play, but doing something like mental chess was far beyond him.

“What are they playing?” asked Cain.

“Senaon,” answered Muse. “It’s a board game where each player has an army. First one to take the other’s general wins.”

It really was just like chess then.

Cain looked at the board on top of the table. Unlike chess which had a board of dimensions eight by eight, this senaon seemed to be played seven by twelve. The pieces, instead of being little wooden figurines, were instead circular discs with little symbols carved into the top.

Well, since they had nothing else to do...

“Teach me,” said Cain.

Muse grinned.

“Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Baal hid a smile behind his book. It was always wonderful to see youngsters get into senaon. He moved his chair back a little to make space for the two.

“So,” explained Muse as they set out the board and started taking out the pieces. “This one over here’s the general. This one over here’s the advisor. You only get one of each piece, except for the infantrymen and the cavalry...”

The journey passed in peaceful serenity as a peaceful wind blew. Dandelion seeds flew into the air, leaving their nests to start elsewhere on new beginnings.


[ERMIRE PROVINCE - Wooded Dirt Trail]

“One more game! Just one more game!” cried Muse.

It was getting darker now, and now they were passing from the grasslands into a wooded region. The flora was changing with every step the horses took.

Cain closed his eyes, listening to the sound of pleading. Muse had talked a big game up, but it turned out that his experience playing chess in the old world carried over just enough. It was rather odd how many exclusive moves each piece had, but once he had properly memorized them, they weren’t that bad.

So, he set out to crush her. It was time to show her that he was more than just a mere Player! Weird, floating windows didn’t define all that he was capable of! After half a day of rousing matches, the champion among them was made clear--

That’s right, it was Webby.

It was always going to be Webby.

“One more game!” Cain joined in. They were sooo close that last round! They were catching onto the little devil’s strategies. “Please! I know that’s what we said last round, but--”

The spider gave them both an annoyed glance and went back to the sugarcube bowl. They had been humoured enough.

Cain and Muse looked at each other and nodded. The journey to the Silver Seat was still long. They’d bring that little shit back to the senaon board sooner or later.

Baal closed his book.

“Excellent play, the two of you.”

Cain and Muse paused in the middle of putting the game away.

“Squire Aberra, your aggressive development in the early stages of the game is very good. Dynamic play allows you to take the momentum into your own hands. However, you tend to take too many risks even when you’re winning. This rushing ahead allows the opponent to break the connection between your front and back pieces, snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.”

Muse rubbed her neck. It was a little embarrassing getting seen through so clearly. It reminded her of being in her father’s presence, to be honest.

“Cain Thompson. Yours is a cautious, wait-and-see approach,” said Baal, turning to him. “You take a defensive stance, neither attacking nor letting yourself be attacked. You wait for your opponent's mistakes, but if your opponent makes none you have given up your initiative for free. You must learn to be more comfortable with being on the attack.”

Cain smiled sheepishly. He was never very good at forcing a situation and inciting a scramble. How skilled was the Grandmaster at this, if he could understand him so easily through a few games?

“That said, when you two played together in that last game,” said Baal. “You two truly made up for each other’s deficits, and enhanced each other’s strengths. Each of you played beyond your own skill level.”

Webby had trounced them by themselves single-handedly, so they had to swallow their pride and present a united front. Muse had led the early game, advancing their formations and threatening Webby from multiple angles. As things advanced into midgame, Cain had slowly taken over, preventing Muse from meandering into disaster several times.

In the end it had come down to a meticulous, calculated fight. Webby would take a piece, and they would take a piece back. All the way down to the bitter end, when the little arachnid had sprung a trap he had set up all the way from the beginning, catching their general in his web.

Ahhh, they had been so close!

“Want to play, Grandmaster?” asked Muse.

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly,” he said with a smile and a strange gleam in his eye. “I would prefer not to pluck out young sprouts as they’re still growing. Go, take on Ronove first.”

The silver-haired man made a weird strangled sound, entirely unfit for the elegant butler he presented himself as.

Cain and Muse looked at each other, and grinned. They quickly set out the pieces again.

“Infantry to E-7!” called Cain as he and Muse agreed upon their opening.

“Infantry to E-8,” replied Ronove, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Cain and Muse quickly arranged the pieces to reflect Ronove’s move.

It didn’t take long for the senaon hierarchy to be established in the wagon. Baal at the very top, followed by Ronove, and then it was Webby. At the very bottom were Cain and Muse, who traded game for game.


[MERDASA - Northern Road]

BANG!

Cain hit the ground rolling, but Control Scheme made sure he regained control quickly.

Ronove brandished his wooden dagger in front of him lazily, his other arm behind his back in a fencing pose. He did not give chase.

“Your movements are perfect,” Ronove mused. “Simply perfect. Are you sure you’ve never trained in axe fighting before?”

Cain brought the crimson axe back up. He had a distaste for the weapon, but it was the best thing he owned at the moment. As he had suspected, Control Scheme meant that its size was not a concern. He moved just as well as when he had used the smaller one against McDougal.

“Yep, never touched one in my life until bandits happened,” said Cain. No sweat on his brow, but he was sure that if he wasn’t a Player he’d be unconscious. Ronove was that far ahead of him when it came to combat. “Ugh!”

Too perfect. I can read your swings like a book.”

Sent reeling, again. Ronove looked at the dagger in his hand with mild interest. He had plunged it into Cain’s chest with no hesitation. Not a drop of blood, but the feeling of breaking the sternum and puncturing the heart had felt right.

[CRITICAL! 27 STABBING DAMAGE TAKEN!]

“Fascinating,” said the silver-haired butler. “This is the first time I’ve ever gone for a deathblow while training. I would like to kill you more often, Cain Thompson. It’s good for my instincts.”

The way he said that made Cain uncomfortable.

“How much was that?”

“27,” answered Cain, checking his status.

[CURRENT HP: 133/160]

“So it would take six killing blows with this weapon to put you down,” mused Ronove. “Players truly are blessed, are they not?”

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Extremely uncomfortable.

“So it is as we suspected then,” said Baal, who had been watching the bout. “The make of weapon matters when it comes to dealing damage. A critical blow from McDougal’s axe almost killed you, but Ronove’s attack did merely a fraction.”

Muse thought on it.

“Are we sure it’s the weapon?” she asked, watching from her position on the back of the carriage. She had wanted to get some training in as well, but Webby had in no uncertain terms told her she was not allowed. “Maybe the bandit just hit harder.”

Baal shook his head.

“Ronove is in no way McDougal’s inferior when it comes to strength,” Baal explained.

Muse looked at the manservant, who sent her a sly smile. He was around her size, both in length and width. McDougal had a few heads on her and had been considerably more jacked. It was like comparing a housecat to a mountain lion.

“...If you say so...”

“How is your HP now, Cain Thompson?” asked Baal.

Cain checked, opening his status window.

[CURRENT HP: 134/160]

“I’ve regained a point since I took the hit,” said Cain.

“So it does regenerate over time, then. Try this.”

Baal threw a small bottle in Cain’s direction. It was clear, and contained about a cup’s worth of green liquid. Cain raised an eyebrow.

“A common medical potion to encourage healing,” said Baal.

Cain nodded. Bottom’s up.

[60 HP RECOVERED!]

[CURRENT HP: 160/160]

“Topped off!” announced Cain.

Muse gaped. It was that easy? Oh, now she was jealous. If she was a Player, she’d never have to worry about her poor feet again.

Baal scratched his chin.

“Interesting, it shouldn’t have worked that quickly. There’s a few more experiments I’d like to run if you’ll let me.”

Cain nodded. He wanted to know all these things too.

They were almost at Merdasa now, but the sun was dipping beneath the trees and they were in no dire hurry. Accordingly, they had stopped in place and set up camp - which essentially just consisted of a simple fire for cooking. Sleep would be done in the wagon, since it was already there.

Ronove had whipped up a delicious feast out of nothing but some simple rations and smoked meats. Cain had been incredibly impressed with him. They all partook, even Cain despite everybody here knowing he didn’t have to eat.

And now, after dinner, there was time for them to see what a Player could really do.

Muse was lounging about at the back of the wagon, and Baal had pulled up a chair around the fire. Ronove and Cain had been sparring on the grass.

“I’m surprised you guys didn’t know about this stuff before,” said Muse. “Isn’t that what the Order of the Black Lamp is all about?”

“There are few Players,” answered Baal. “Thirty-one scattered across the entire world, including Cain. Few of them reside on our continent, much less our country. Even fewer of them are as accommodating as our friend here.”

“When you put it like that...” said Muse, trailing off. There was a question she wanted to ask, but it seemed really awkward to ask it in front of the Grandmaster, considering his position.

“...Is there a need for our order in the first place?” finished Baal. “Believe me, you’re not the first one to think that way. Some of those aware of our existence have called for our disbanding in the past, but all it takes is one look at our archives for those voices to find themselves silenced.”

He tossed another bottle to Cain.

This one contained a purple liquid that looked awfully rancid. Cain crinkled his nose, he wasn’t looking forward to opening this up.

“Too many nations have fallen ruin to wandering Players,” said Baal. “Cain Thompson, that bottle contains lethal poison that will take effect only after three days. We also have the antidote. You are free to refuse this request, if you do not feel comfortable.”

Cain looked at it.

“This is poison?” he asked. “Isn’t this... a little too obvious?”

The thing was purple.

“It’s not for assassinations,” said Ronove smoothly. “It’s a little trick I use when I need to convince somebody to do something for me. Give them the poison, and withhold the antidote until an agreement has been reached.”

Yeah, okay it was settled. Cain really did not want to be on this guy’s bad side.

“Welp,” sighed Cain. “Cheers.”

Ugh. It was as nasty as it looked.

[YOU HAVE BEEN POISONED!]

[CURRENT HP: 160/160]

[CURRENT HP: 159/160]

[CURRENT HP: 158/160]

“My health’s dropping,” said Cain. “At a rate of... about a point per second?”

Ronove looked surprised at that.

“How strange,” he said. “I’m certain that I brewed the Convincer MK. III correctly...”

The Convincer? MK. III? This thing was a product of R&D?

Cain wondered what other poisons Ronove was capable of making.

Perhaps he shouldn’t dive too deep.

“Not altogether unexpected,” said Baal. He was flipping through that little black book again. “Some of the tales in the archives mention that to Players, all poisons affect them the same way. Whether it be venom from an animal, or something cooked up by alchemists.”

Ronove took out another bottle. The antidote, Cain assumed.

“Wait, try this one first,” said Baal, pulling out another bottle. Cain accepted it. “This one is an antidote for snake venom.”

Why did these guys have all this stuff in the first place? Who needed to keep that much poison and antidotes around?

Well, whatever. Down the hatch.

[YOUR POISON HAS BEEN CURED!]

“That... worked.”

Ronove had a disapproving look on his face.

“My entire profession, invalidated.”

God, being a Player was so weird.

The sparring session concluded, Cain and Ronove gathered around the fire. Muse too left the comfort of the wagon to partake of its warmth. This was a pleasant way to spend the evening, Cain decided, hanging out around a fire with your future boss and coworkers.

Well, when he put it like that, it was a little weird. But hey, a team-building exercise was a team-building exercise.

“I’ve mentioned this before to you,” said Baal. “About the peculiarities of Players. Your strange bodily mechanics. This... oddity about HP, Levels, and EXP. These are all common to every Player, from the information that we’ve gathered.”

Cain nodded.

“But now, we need to talk about what makes you unique from each other. Your System Mechanics.”

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