"Guide?" Damian tilted his head to the side.
"Yes, a guide. I will show you the ropes before you start your great adventure."
Damian raised his hand. "Can I ask some questions then?"
"Of course! But only three at first."
"Why me?"
"It is not just you. All players who managed to defeat Beasts&Demons are all summoned here."
Damian scratched his chin. "I have two questions left. Better ask something useful."
"Is there a way to go back home?"
Diablo nodded, his head taking the shape of a checkmark. "Of course, you must defeat the demon king and his 36 Demon Lords."
"Huh... what do you mean 36."
"We planned on 36 on the computer game, but the hardware on earth was not good enough, so our patrons made that each run only had 12 demon lords. But don't worry, 2 of them are already dead."
Damian sat down. "Still, this is a bit too much to accomplish. But then again, Beasts&Demons was a single-player game, and there are more of us now."
"You get it. So, what is your last question before I check with the others."
Damian got up. "Do I get a reward for this?" He pointed at the old Deathwing, buried under the building.
Diablo started stroking an imaginary chin. "Yeah, we need to handle that. Summon your status screen. It is easy to call. Just think about it."
"How do you even think about that? Well, open status screen?" The screen suddenly appeared before him. "It was easy."
[Name: Damian
Level: 1 (0/200xp to next level)
Class: Crafter
HP: 12/12
MANA: N/N
Strength: 6
Endurance: 8
Agility: 8
Will: 10
Magical Prowess (MP): 3
Learning Efficiency (LE): 12]
Damian's eyes widened. "Ah, Diablo."
"What is the problem? Your physical stats are better than most- oh, sweet hell. What is that MANA and MP? Yours is the worst I ever seen this far."
"I can see that from your reaction, but why?"
"Swipe to the left and go to your traits."
Damian did and opened the traits screen.
[Traits:
[Brilliant Artisan: Increased base stats on all crafted items] [Analysist: Increased Learning Efficiency] [Clogged Core: Your Core is clogged and requires a high-level arcanist to cure it.] ]
Damian turned to Diablo. "Why do I have a negative trait, and why is it the worst one!?"
Diablo shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. It is completely random. We even use the same formula from the game."
"I just fought a Deathwing as my first enemy, and now this. Will there be anything positive?"
Diablo hummed. "You did make our patrons watching you go wild. I guess you deserved something." Diablo put his hand inside his head, pulled out a small plush toy shaped like himself, and threw it to Damian.
Damian grabbed the plushie and looked at it.
[Epic artifact: Diablo Plushie
Effects: It always stays warm. Best to hug on cold winter nights.]
"What is this!?"
"A great gift fitting your class."
"What do you mean a gift fitting my class, what do I do with a plush toy-"
Diablo cut Damian's words by putting one finger on his mouth. "I give you appraisal skill. Since your magic is locked, you can't use the default one, I gave you a special one that doesn't require any magic."
Damian inspected the plush once more. "Well, I am sorry I guess."
Diablo exhaled. "Look, I can't tell you everything but I can assure you that I will put you in danger because I need views from patrons, and danger equals views in this business. Yet, my foremost goal is to help you survive with what little power I have. I need you as much as you need me."
Diablo looked at its wrist. "If you excuse me, I have a meeting. You go do whatever you want, and don't die."
Damian watched as flames made Diablo roar before dying out and disappearing.
"I don't even have a comment for this situation." Damian sighed. "Well, I should start gathering equipment. Open inventory!"
He expected a new screen, but nothing happened.
"Open inventory!" He repeated, this time louder.
[Personal Space spell locked due to Clogged Core.]
"I expected this the moment Diablo mentioned appraisal skill."
He sighed. "I have no mana, little to no skill in magic." He fell to his knees. "My whole gimmick was I was an Artificer!" Still angry, he got up. "My class progression path got blocked for now, but that doesn't mean I am nothing. To the town! Let's get some tools and materials."
Damian left the debris, moving between still-standing houses. He first searched for fitting clothes to replace his pajamas and a shoe.
Not long after, he found some. The tunic was a little large, but it wasn't a problem, though he needed to make a makeshift belt using some rope for the pants.
He smiled, looking at his belt. "I cut this near-perfect length with no tools. My class perks are working."
From there, Damian looked for money. Searching every inch of houses he entered.
"Under the floorboards, inside pots, behind paintings, no place is too hidden for me." He smiled as he threw a large pouch filled with Krots, the global currency of this world, into the air and caught it back playfully. "Good thing I also had a thief play through before. Now let's make something to carry all the goodies."
Damian used sewing equipment and scrap fabrics to make a rucksack. "Look at me! I maybe did this twice or thrice back home, and now I am killing it!"
Damian lifted his rucksack and tried to stretch and tear. It was surprisingly resistant compared to its look.
Damian exited outside, looking at the ravaged temple stairs. "Alright, I hope you don't have any more surprises for me."
When he reached the top, he finally understood why the village was so empty.
Passing where the old Deathwing was napping, he saw a giant pool of green liquid bubbling. An unbearable stench had filled the room.
Deathwings don't consume their prey in traditional ways. They dig a pit, fill it with their corrosive liquid, and put whatever they hunt into it to create a nutritious, unholy soup.
Damian froze. His breath was fast and uncontrolled.
Reality wasn't like a video game. What stood before was an entire town worth of people, killed and unceremoniously destroyed to make a feed.
Damian fell to his knees, holding his twitching stomach. He leaned forward to vomit. Nothing but the dry heaves came out.
He put his arms to the floor and looked forward. The smell was burning his throat and nose.
Unable to gather his thoughts. Damian pushed himself away and crawled a bit before finally getting far enough from the pool to gather his strength.
He wiped his mouth on his tunic and left the room. "All the town folk, nothing of them left. All molten with no remnant."
He shook his head. Gruesome as it was, he could only afford sympathy, nothing more.
He kept walking, not looking behind until he stepped on something different.
"Is that a rifle?" He grabbed the thing, using this strange opportunity to distract his mind. "It looks like one, though most of it is molten."
[Rare Scrap: Destroyed Standart Rifle
It is a popular design made after great heroes defeated the demon king 312 years ago. This model is damaged beyond use, albeit a great weaponsmith could repair it with sufficient material.]
"But the demon king was undefeated in lore... wait." Damian dropped the weapon and stepped back. "Does that mean I am in the future? Diablo!" He swung his head left and right, vigorously searching for the flaming figure, but to no avail.
"Diablo! I have questions." He raised his voice further but to no avail.
[Grand Quest Stage 1: Learn about what happened to the world.
Reward: Progression in the quest tree.]
Damian sighed before sitting down. "Does that mean the NPCs I knew died? No, there are long-living races like elves and dwarven kin, but still..."
He closed his eyes and reminisced about the companion characters from his play. For a support class focused on crafting gear, they were his spear.
"No crying over spilled milk." Damian got up. "I have some rough ideas in my head, and if my theories are right, my forge should still exist." He pumped his fist. "Alright! I have a survival plan now! Gather enough strength to reach my old base, get my gear back, and defeat the demon king once more."
He grabbed the rifle piece and put it in his sack before rushing down the stairs. "But I still need something before I level here."
Damian approached the Deathwing with a chisel and hammer. Beast was under the rubble, but there was no safety guarantee.
"I can't kill this thing with my current gear. The moment I pierce its skin, the corrosive liquid will hose out of the wound, but I can do something else."
He lifted some rubble, placed the chisel's edge on an empty space between the beast's scale and body, and started hammering it until the scale popped out.
The Deathwing was movementless during the process, as if accepting its fate.
Damian grabbed the scale. It was as large as his hand and light as aluminum. "Yet it is said to be more durable and shock resistant than steel."
Damian chipped out more scales until he had a large stack.
He exhaled and wiped his sweat. "This was easier back when I had the gear to resist their attacks and enough firepower to kill them."
After that, he approached the beast's mouth with a glass vial. "But we are not done yet."
"Careful now, if this thing as much as sneezes and you get goo on your face, you will die. Slowly and painfully."
He put the vial to the side of the Deathwing's mouth and watched as corrosive saliva dripping from its mouth filled the vial.
"I could have gotten some of this stuff from the ponds around the town and giant ones inside the temple, but they are not as strong as this."
After a long wait, he filled his first vial and repeated the process until he had eight of them.
"Now, what is left? Perhaps I can look for a claw to make a dagger later, but I would need a bone saw and wait until this thing dies."
He was fighting with thoughts until the quest screen appeared before him.
[Timed Quest: Escape The Town.
Truth Knights are approaching the town. You may want to flee before they arrive.
Remaining time: 4 days 13 hours]
Damian facepalmed. "Out of all knight orders in this kingdom, it had to be overzealous psychopaths." He put the vials into his sack and got up. "I have no plan on getting skinned alive by deranged maniacs because they needed to cleanse my soul. Goodbye, Deathwing claw dagger, and my experience points."
Without wasting more time, he moved to the northern exit connected to a forest.
"I doubt any hostile creatures would be around since the Deathwing appeared. Forest should be safe to travel. But before I leave." He put his sack to the ground.
"Tools, nails, rope, and other supplies. I have lots of flour, vegetables, dried meat, a big cheese wheel, and water. An oil lamp, a can of oil, a spear, and finally, goo vials, tightly sealed with glass caps, check." He closed the sack's mouth and tightly sealed it with a rope.
"I think I am good to go now."
He stepped into the forest path and glanced at the town he left behind. "I wish we had seen each other in a different time." He turned forward and pressed on.