Land of the Dead

The lull of the carriage helped him calm down a bit, despite the insanity of the present situation.

“Skills,” he quietly whispered, staring at the faint icon in the corner of his vision. “I could go with the same build I had last time.”

Keiran focused, and the icon expanded, flickering faintly, until a translucent panel unfolded before him. The interface was sleeker, cleaner than he remembered. He quietly read through the newer stuff they’d added to see if there was anything that would help him fight specifically undead while maintaining some flexibility for the future.

As he sat there, another player looked at him and asked, “So you’re the legendary ‘Reaper’?”

Keiran paused for a moment. “Yeah, before they reset the servers.”

“A former pro who disappeared in his prime,” she said, as though reading it off the internet.

Keiran flinched. “I had other things I needed to do.”

“Like?”

“Life caught up,” Keiran replied.

Keiran went back to staring at the skills he had available, trying to decide what his optimal choices were.

The voice next to him came again. “You’re a solo player, right?”

“A notoriously well-known one,” Keiran scoffed. “You?” he asked, dismissing the skill selection panel.

“Same here. I used to look up to players like you.”

Keiran looked at her. “And?”

“Nothing. So what’s your name?” she asked.

“Just use my ID, I’ll use yours,” he replied.

She nodded, “Sure. Name’s ‘Sanctum’ then.”

Keiran paused for a moment, suppressing a chuckle. “Literally a safe place. What’s your build?” Keiran asked, fully expecting a full support build.

“Paladin,” she replied. “Yours?”

“Isn’t that public information?” Keiran asked.

“Still Dragoon then?”

Keiran nodded. “Maybe with the newer skills though.”

“Oh…” Sanctum replied. “What are we looking at now? Spell Forge? Arsenal?”

“I mean, arsenal is just free gear for solo-players, right?” Keiran said. “Get a free weapon and free armor.”

Sanctum nodded, “They didn’t change that bit. Spell Forge is fun though, lets you pick base effects and targeting patterns to build spells on the fly-”

“And the tree has Mystic Edge for free attacks on top of the spells,” Keiran completed.

“You’re familiar with the newer stuff then?” she asked.

“Not really, I just read it. Gonna pick up the ‘Photon’ for the base spell to hit undead for double damage. Still figuring out targeting patterns.”

“‘Arrow’ is probably the most beginner friendly targeting,” Sanctum replied.

“I figured. ‘Seeker’ targeting for swarms is helpful to hit multiple targets at once, but ‘Arrow’ is probably good enough for single target.” He replied. “Besides, I went with a balanced spread on my stats, so I can afford it.”

“So three points down that tree to get a bit of magic and two points sacrificed to get a decent set of equipment?” she asked.

Keiran shrugged, “Seems reasonable.”

Sanctum looked at him for a moment before asking, “What’s your plan for the ruins?”

Keiran shrugged, “Hopefully grind some levels without dying. You?”

“I got a party already.”

“Good for you,” Keiran replied. He wasn’t one for teams, but that allowed him to have some sense of respect for most builds that relied on healing and buffing, especially with filler build players since they were used to almost no communication anyways.

The rest of the ride was mostly silent with a few conversations drifting about skill combos or what used to work in the past.

* * * * *

When Keiran got off the carriage, the sky overhead was ashen and lit with a slight red glow, caught in endless twilight that never quite turned to night. Keiran walked through the crumbling archway of what seemed like the dying remains of a massive fortress city. Broken spires reached up to the blood red moon, vines slithering up the stone walls, brittle and bone-dry.

He didn’t remember an area like this existing, but he was betting on the fact that he still knew the enemies pretty well. No mini-map, no teleport markers, no pings to warn of other creatures in the vicinity. Just a cold wind and a half-hearted fog that clung to the ground. Keiran held his spear in one hand.

He’d picked his skills to try and push through the early parts of this area until he could find a safe zone, but he had no idea how to use most of them since there wasn’t a combat menu like there used to be. He’d picked up a few potions from the caravan, but who knew how useful those would be.

Keiran’s boots crunched over the loose gravel as he walked into the ruins. His hair stood on end. Something feels off.

Then he heard it. Shuffling. Clattering.

He sighed as he turned to the sound, spear half-raised, as two figures staggered into view. Skeletons. Should be easy… right? They seemed weak, wrapped in rotting leather, dragging broken weapons. Their eyes glowed an unnatural red as they neared him.

Keiran pointed his spear towards the skeletons, “Well, time to figure out how this works.”

He lunged forward, closing the distance, driving his weapon through the skeleton.

It staggered for a second before swinging at Keiran with a wide arc. Keiran tried to move out of the way, but the hilt of the blade caught against his shoulder, pushing him a little off balance.

Pain shot through his arm as he gritted his teeth. Blood dripped down his sleeve as the second skeleton brought its club down against Keiran’s chest, knocking him clean off his feet.

Keiran skidded against the ground, his spear dropping from his hand as he clutched his shoulder. Pain surged as he struggled to catch his breath.

I’m going to die. He pushed himself upright, panicking as he raised his hand. His body worked instinctively, a small circle forming at his fingertips.

“Photon Seeker,” he screamed, trying to focus on what the skill should look like.

A chain of light launched from his fingers at the skeleton that was swinging the club, piercing through the skull before turning sharply to the other one and barely whipping across its back.

As the chain dissipated, the two skeletons crumbled into a pile of bones. Keiran staggered over to his spear lying on the ground, and picked it up, holding it close to himself.

This was a mistake, he thought, falling to his knees. His shoulder stung, his chest as well. He felt drained, not just physically, but mentally. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if it was the fear or pain, but something inside him had cracked.