"Chief... why can't you just bend the rules for me? Just for the one timeee?" Moon groaned, dragging his face along the stone slab beneath the makeshift tent where he lay.
[I already told you...] The Legislator's voice echoed in Moon's mind but cut off abruptly. Without warning, the Legislator shot into the sky, taking the position only they could hold.
Moon lifted his head weakly from the ground, his cracked lips curling into a sarcastic grimace. "Oh. Okay. Fuck you too," he muttered, his jaw aching from the effort of speaking.
The infection on his arm had spread aggressively, oozing thick, green mucus that reeked of decay. Moon's body was a testament to his suffering—emaciated, his skin stretched tight over his bones, his face as dry and lifeless as the stone he lay on. He had survived two weeks without food or water.
When the acid rain came, the fabric tents barely held. He spent those agonizing moments scrambling between shelters, his skin dotted all over with burn marks from the corrosive downpour. He'd used the last scraps of fabric from Beatrice's grave to rebuild and patch what little shelter remained. Eventually, he had barely anything left.
Moon wheezed, crawling out of the tent to investigate what or who had drawn the Chief back into action. His tongue was parched, and every breath felt like inhaling glass shards. The effort of movement was torment, his joints creaking under the strain of his now frail body.
In the past few days, he had fought and killed every member of the party that once occupied this safe area. At first, his combat skills were rusty, but by the seventh kill, he had leveled up enough to recover two of his old skills. Despite his deteriorating state, the strength he regained gave him grim confidence; he just wasn't bothered.
"If it comes to it, I'm not scared to use it," Moon whispered to himself, forcing his body upright. His bare feet sank into the mud as he trudged forward. A rustling in the trees ahead caught his attention—the same direction the attackers always came from.
He stopped, raising his good arm to rub his face in frustration. "Just come out and attack me head-on. Let's not do this," he taunted, his voice hoarse but defiant.
A low growl erupted from the shadows before a hulking plague disciple burst out, charging at him with grotesque, pulsating muscles. Its appearance was revolting, like a human fused with a parasitic snail.
Moon knew he couldn't overpower it. As its massive fist came crashing down, he leapt onto the creature, using its momentum to flip it and slam it to the ground.
"Chief!" Moon shouted, and the Legislator, compelled by Moon, summoned a large metal rod that materialized out of thin air and drove into the disciple's skull, obliterating it.
[Risk your life first, then the KO attacks come.] Only someone like you would make that choice,] the Legislator's voice chimed in.
Moon rolled off the fallen creature, collapsing back into the mud. But the fight wasn't over.
A dark hand shot out from the trees, grabbing Moon by his long, mud-soaked curly hair and lifting him into the air. The hand belonged to Resheph—a twisted, demonic figure whose sinister grin spread wide across his thin face.
"Resheph? Long time no see," Moon said, attempting familiarity despite the pain coursing through his body.
[Hello, hello. You're all alone here?] Resheph's other human arm, long and serpentine, slithered through the tents, feeling for anyone else.
"Yes, yes. Just me," Moon replied as Resheph shrank in size, matching Moon's frail form. The demon handed him a scroll wrapped in ancient cloth. It resembled the one given to Valeria.
"I like what you did with the arm," Moon remarked sarcastically as he took the scroll. He unrolled it, skimming the contents with bloodshot eyes. "Honestly, I thought I was done for when you touched me. Guess you can't infect people anymore since the Jester took your arm."
Resheph's grin faltered, his face darkening with barely contained rage. He could feel the Legislator's presence above and knew better than to provoke it because this Legislator wasn't one spawned from a skill; this was the real deal.
[The infection arm was for creating them and that blue haired bastard took it. This one is only for control, I can't make you turn with this makeshift arm. You can only turn when you succumb to the infection] he hissed.
"That's cute. So what's your plan? Nuke the place?" Moon asked, sitting cross-legged in the mud.
Resheph sighed, planting his hand in the earth.[The Lesser Kings have already begun. The Lesser King of Blaze scorched Area A, and the Lesser King of Foliage turned Area B into a deadly forest. When my turn comes, I'll unleash every infected soul buried beneath this mud. Rats, disciples, vultures—everything. Even the Legislators won't be able to handle it. Everything will die.]
He pulled a grotesque, bloated zombie head from the ground. It snapped hungrily at Moon, who calmly reached out and touched it. A metal rod struck down from above, obliterating the creature.
"That's dangerous. Holy crap," Moon muttered, coughing violently.
[How are you resisting the Plague?] Resheph asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"I'm not," Moon answered, crawling back into his tent.
[Odd one you are. I'm giving those scrolls out to Haven and safe space owners to give them a chance. The higher ups at the 72 don't want everyone to die. Just to-] Resheph voiced out as he was standing up himself but was interrupted.
"Just to weed out the weak. I know. Pretty cruel if you ask me. Makes me scared what the other tutorial scenarios will be like. This is just the first one." Moon said and then groaned in annoyance.
[This is the only tutorial scenario this time. If you survive getting spawned camped by lesser kings with almost no resources. You wont need any more tutorials.] Resheph informed Moon as he paced around the outside of Moon's safe area.
"Wow. You seem to really believe that. Did you decide that?" Moon asked, trying to hold back his amusement, not because he wanted to be respectful but more because it hurt to laugh because of his broken ribs and open wounds from prior battles.
[No.] Resheph answered succinctly as he began rummaging his hands in the mud again just outside the safe space.
Moon noticed what he was doing and just sighed because he could already tell what was coming next.
"You don't need to do that..." Moon said, exasperated. He felt defeated. All he wanted was a break at this point. He had been active for too long. Resheph ignored him and kept rummaging in the mud, then Moon decided to get one last bit of disrespectful ridicule in.
"Not really smart to tell people your about to kill them when you want to extract only the strong. This warning you gave me, a week before it happens, that's a perfect amount of time for me to just escape, don't you think?" Moon said before planting his head back into the rock slab underneath him, not expecting a reply.
[Isn't that the whole point? We don't want just strong headed bastards like you. We need smart Blokes too. Strategists. Who will then breed a race of people strong enough to survive in hell. Strong enough to have hope that they can win. Then we will come along and BANG Destroy all of that.] Resheph responded, As he said the word Bang, a loud explosion rang out from what seemed to be thousands of metres away from their very location.
[The Lesser King of calamity just nuked Area E. The Minute draws near.] He said as he pulled out the head of another one of those massive plague disciples and while it was in its grasp, he pulled it only half way out so its legs were still caught and then with his accursed touch, he turned the disciple into a beacon. a green obelisk that simply draws and attracts more of the Plague disciples.
As Resheph trudged through the mud, his thin long hair slithering through the dirt as his body began to creak and expand until he inevitably vanished into the trees. Then what seemed to be a herd of those Plague disciples walked down around the obelisk and simultaneously covered the safe area from all directions. Sneering at moon from across the border of jurisdiction.
[I only tell you I'm going to kill you, so I can enjoy the thrill of seeing you desperately try to get out before it happens. The obelisks wont be all that I've placed in your way dear foolish sinner.] Reshephs voice echoed from the forest as more of the Plague disciples flooded in.
Moon looked at all the Plague disciples outside, some of them even familiar faces from before it all went to hell and he slammed his face back into the stone beneath him.
The creatures came in droves, snarling from the edges of the safe zone. Moon buried his face in the stone slab, utterly exhausted. "I wont deal with this. Just nuke me already," he muttered before drifting into a fitful sleep.
--
"… Goddamn. Look at all these corpses."
"… Look at the tents…"
"Wait… someone's in here…"
"It's him."
Moon's crusted eyes cracked open in response to the voices. Crawling out of his tent, he groaned.
"Here we go again," he muttered, only to be knocked back down before he could even stand.