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A lone man sat against a tree, chest heaving laboriously. In his arms was a golden-haired baby monkey, frowning and whining.
"Come ooon! This isn't fair! This isn't fair, this isn't fair, thisisn'tfair!"
His metal gauntlets gripped the small creature tightly and his dark gaze was locked ahead.
[ Congratulations! Gate 1 : A Forest in Kishkindha
SPECIAL OBJECTIVE: Capture Anjaneya — Complete!
Receive:
10,000 XP
50,000 PP
Skill: Martanda's Boon ]
[ Congratulations! You are the first player to complete the Gate 1 Main Objective! ]
[ Bonus Receive:
12,000 XP
50,000 PP ]
Dasha Pang had successfully captured Anjaneya. By focusing all his distributive points on agility, he managed to keep three steps behind Anjaneya. He was slower but not by an absurd degree. Therefore, Dasha had to make up for that gap in speed with strategy and predictions.
He had watched another player, a middle-aged man of unremarkable swordsmanship, swing his blade at Anjaneya. Dasha scanned the monkey's movements. Anjaneya was arrogant and loose. He relied too heavily on his sight. Dasha formulated an easy yet effective plan. Fight a slime, pretend not to notice Anjaneya's presence, slam his Fire Fist into the ground, create smoke, and disappear. Then, in the confusion, throw several tree branches to instil fear in the baby monkey, cause him to panic and make a dumb move, and then swoop in for the catch.
Anjaneya didn't know what hit him.
"Not fair, not fair, not faiiiir!" Anjaneya cried in his arms. Although his speed was incredible, his strength wasn't. "I wanted to play some moorrreeee!"
His weight suddenly dropped. Dasha glanced down at him and saw that he was dissipating into yellow particles. He couldn't stop it nor did he care to try. The troublesome baby monkey was gone, leaving Dasha to his own devices.
[ Status: Dasha Pang
Class: Amateur Martial Artist
Level: 17
HP: 130
HP/Minute: 13
MP: 192
MP/Minute: 24.5
Attack: 34
Defence: 27
Attributes
Strength: 30
Resilience: 26
Agility: 60
Deftness: 73
Vitality: 26
Magical Might: 24
Magical Mending: 24
Distributive Points: 21 ]
'Seven levels from twenty thousand XP. At this rate, the slimes are going to become obsolete.'
Always look ahead. Dasha didn't have time to be impressed or to bathe in his accomplishment. He had a wish to attain and he would do anything to achieve it. In front of his status, another small screen blipped.
[ Return to the White Abyss? Yes or no? ]
Dasha clicked yes.
The world went dark.
***
The transition from a forest to a realm of white was befuddling. Players were sprawled throughout and talking amongst each other. When he originally teleported in, there was no one. Dasha figured he must have been the first to have completed Azrael's explanation.
More interesting than the presence of humans was the Heavenly Tower itself. It casted no shadows. The ambient light of the realm must have eliminated the presence of shadows. There was no other explanation.
'Open map.'
The House of Wisdom, the Nebulous Bazaar, the Endless Bar, the Tvastar's Forge, and Valhalla's Colosseum. Five key locations of the White Abyss that a player could choose to teleport to. Each section was seemingly walled off. Access was done through teleportation on the Game System map.
He clicked on the Nebulous Bazaar icon and decided to head there. The map zoomed in and outlined five districts within the Nebulous Bazaar. Dasha went to the Food District.
His world didn't darken this time. He blinked and he was suddenly in the middle of a long, busy marketplace. Colourful stalls on one side and restaurants on the other. A mix of old and new, ancient and modern. The blankness of the Heavenly Tower region was replaced by a lush sky. The length of the street was immediately apparent to him yet he couldn't think for long as a hand grabbed his shoulders.
"Hey there, new player! Say, you finished the main objective? Have some prize points to spend? I can give you some sweet, sweet deals!"
Dasha silently brushed the sweet-talking man off and went on his way.
Another came, a bearded man in a long tunic-like shirt flowing gracefully down to his knees. Intricate embroidery went along the neckline and cuffs. More importantly, he wore a charming smile that exuded confidence.
Then there were his eyes. Golden and resolute. This man was strong.
"Peace be upon you, brother! I'm a part of the Alhambra Guardians! One of the Big Three guilds, if you haven't heard! We offer a Saif Anith, chainmail armour, and…a brotherhood!" The bearded man's smile broadened till his gums. "So what do you say? Sign the contract and—"
"Tell me more," Dasha cut in.
"Oh, uh, really?"
"Yes."
The brown-skinned man brightened. "I'll treat you to a meal, points on me. Also, the name is Rehan."
"Dasha."
The two headed into a small shop across from them. The smell was delicious, like the sweet tang of cinnamon and seafood.
"This is a Sri Lankan place." Rehan smiled and called a waiter over. "We'll have some Kottu Roti over. Thanks." No exchange of currency of any kind. Strange. The waiter listened to Rehan as if he was the boss. Rehan crossed his arms and looked over at Dasha with that same smile of his. "So. What do you want to ask me, future brother?"
"How many people are in your guild?"
"Well…I think it's like…hm." Rehan stroked his beard, one eye closed. Dasha wanted to groan. "Like…a thousand-ish?"
"A thousand-ish," Dasha repeated flatly.
"A thousand-ish."
A wonderful smell intruded on their conversation. The waiter served a smoky plate of chopped roti bread stir-fried with vegetables, eggs, and seafood. Dasha's irritation faded and his hand went for the spoon and dug in.
Dasha looked up to see a cheeky smile. "Good, eh?"
"Mm." Two more bites and he was done. For now anyway.
Guilds, merchants, shops—the Nebulous Bazaar housed them all. Guilds were, of course, the most fetching term. Since players of previous Heavenly Games were here, their guilds and ideals had transferred over to the current game. Azrael was vague on what exactly a guild did, so that was his goal: finding out.
"How long has the guild existed for?"
"Us Alhambra Guardians came around during the 1200s during the Islamic Golden Age. I guess most of the participants of the Heavenly Games were Muslim so they decided to just team up and make a guild. At the time, the biggest guild were the Templar Knights and, well, we've been a pain in their bum since then."
"I'm assuming the Templar Knights are a part of the Big Three?"
"Bingo! The Big Three are the Templar Knights—ya know, Christianity—Alhambra Guardians, us Muslims, and the Sapphire Order, the generic, agnostic ones."
Dasha didn't want to be crude but he also didn't want the misunderstanding to continue.
"I'm not Muslim."
"It's a majority Muslim guild, don't worry about it. Generally, if you want to get to the higher levels, you gotta convert but for the beginners? Nah. We're cool with anything."
"What do you do exactly?"
"We sponsor players essentially. We sign contracts, support players, get our fair share of resources and Prize Points, and profit! Everyone profits!"
"And if someone decides not to share?"
"Oh, like bail? Haha, don't worry, that won't happen." Rehan waved a hand and summoned a roll of parchment out of thin air. The silver ring on his index finger gleamed. "See this? This is called a Pledge of Agreements. It's the most basic kind of magical contract. The bound party is compelled to follow the orders to the best of their ability. For beginner players, there's no real way to break it."
'Implying higher level players can,' Dasha thought.
"As players get stronger, we start to use stronger contracts. It goes from the Pledge of Agreements, the Geas of Service, the Blood Pact, the Soul Pact, and finally, the Eternal Contract. Don't wanna get into that last one, trust me. There are some other types, like the Contract of Obedience, but that's less of a contract and more of a master-servant deal. You know, borderline non-consensual stuff."
"I presume you old players have some purpose for Prize Points," Dasha said.
"Yeah, really observant there. Yeah, yeah, yeah, it's kinda like…good deeds?" A pause. "Not all of us are going to heaven, after all. The points function as our way to get into our respective iterations of heaven. For some people though, like me, we just do it for fun."
"I see." Dasha ate his food quietly. "Tell me, in your honest opinion, which is the strongest guild?"
Rehan didn't answer for two or three seconds. "Depends on your meaning of strength. In terms of numbers, we have everyone else beat. The Templars have been around since the Heavenly Games' conception so they obviously hold the knowledge advantage. There's household names in the Abyss like the Dream Walker and Shadow Blade and I'd say the Sapphire Order have the most of those names. They're the newest and they have a much better sense on how to use the system. Think about it, half the people in the 1200s probably didn't know how to read or what levels meant."
Dasha silently swallowed a nice bit of seafood. "And what era are you from, Rehan?"
"The 1980s," Rehan replied without missing a beat. He leaned back and smirked. "Heh, you know, the Heavenly Games I was a part of was actually called the Golden Age. Our levels AND technical skills were better than the Enlightenment Era—"
"Rehaaaaan!"
The bearded man froze. Loud footsteps arrived and he winced from every one of them. A woman in a purple hijab arrived, her mouth set in a permanent frown.
"Seriously?" she asked. "Seriously?"
Rehan ate his food rather than answer. The woman squinted her eyes.
"Hurry up and eat. We have to go." The woman looked at Dasha and smiled. "Good afternoon. Sorry about him. If you're interested in the Alhambra Guardians, come to our fortress. It's the massive reddish-brown one at the edge of the Guild District—you won't miss it."
Rehan put down his spoon and said excitedly, "Trust me, it is sooo cool from the inside."
The woman gave him an exasperated look. "Rehan…!"
"My bad, my bad." Rehan got up from his chair. "Alright, Dasha. I'll catch you later. I guess my time as a scout is over."
"You're not even supposed to be a scout, you idiot. This is way below you."
The woman took Rehan away before Rehan could quip. Streaks of his golden eyes followed him. Dasha pretended to be occupied with his food.
'I wasn't wrong. There's only one reason someone could be so ill-informed and be acting as a scout.'
Dasha was never wrong about these kinds of things. When it came to ordinary versus extraordinary people, he could tell the two apart by the look in their eyes.
'I cannot remember the last time I met someone with eyes like his.'
Whoever Rehan was, he wasn't a normal member of the Alhambra Guardians. His presence was not one bit inferior to Azrael of the Archangels—and she was the literal embodiment of death.