His body was numb. A constant ringing sounded deep inside his ears, but his senses were gradually returning. He was prepared for such a transition. What was unexpected, and what Miss Vione had not hinted at, was the current situation he was facing as soon as he woke up. The desperate and enraged shouts around him dominated the atmosphere.

  “They are recovering.”

  Faoros’ legs were obeying his orders bit by bit.

  “Protect them, just a bit more!”

  His woolen clothes were soaked by the humid ground.

  “We need further assistance in Sector C! Bring another guard now!”

  The urgent tone of their voices prompted Faoros to push himself harder. Despite his eyelids being as heavy as a boulder, he managed to open one eye slightly and gaze at the chaos unfolding around him. Guards in metal armor, wielding swords and spears, had formed a tight circle around him.

  “I am awake!” Faoros cried out instinctively when a beast jumped upon the guards. The beast was as big as an Etal. Its body was covered in black fur, and its claws were sharper than a well-honed blade.

  “Don’t worry, recruit. We’ve got you,” the guard replied. His spear was dancing in sync with the beast to keep it at bay. Faoros was amazed by his skills; his movements were an extension of his hand, precise and deadly. Faoros couldn’t help but be amazed by this Native of the Game.

  Faoros realized that he was no different than him and with his help managed to stand on his feet. Unlike at the academy, here he was wearing a plain gray robe and was barefoot. His first thought was to visit the bathroom and clean up, but gazing at the ravaged land surrounding him, he doubted there was a single operational bathroom in the Game.

  “Thank you for the help,” he mumbled, looking around him. The beasts left no openings for any Etal to take advantage of. Tight groups of guards surrounded the newcomers to the Game, protecting them from the wild beasts. Faoros wanted to grasp an opportunity to help, but his skills were no match for even the sloppiest guard. These warriors wielded their weapons with deadly precision, striking the beasts’ vitals with each blow. They brought them down in as few strikes as possible. Their breaths were ragged and sweat covered their faces, yet they did not yield to exhaustion and persevered to fight. Even if this was a simulation, how could he not acknowledge such prowess and determination?

  As soon as he had this thought, a guard screamed. He crouched down, the beast’s claws dug beneath his armor, and, by using his knees as a spring, jumped up. The built-up momentum gave his spear enough force to pierce the beast’s stomach. Both prey and hunter, the roles intermixed, stared at each other before the brightness in their eyes was gone. The bodies landed beside Faoros with the bloodied spear stuck in the beast’s belly.

  “A-are you fine… warrior?” Faoros fell to the ground. He was pushing and pulling at the motionless guard’s body but there was no response coming from it.

  “Easy there, recruit. We will take care of our companion.” A black-haired man with grey wings at his temples reached his side and knelt beside the beast’s corpse. Unlike the rest, he was wearing an ocean-hued cape. It was kept together in the front by a rusty pin engraved with the outline of a shield with a star at its center and reached down his legs. “Unit, keep the formation intact. Lord Knight Erohas is arriving with reinforcements,” the blue-caped guard shouted and pushed his hand inside the beast’s stomach. With a gulping sound, he removed a violet mineral. It looked like a fossil, but a bright spark shining at its center gave it an alien feeling. “Be thankful to the Lords, recruit. We barely made it to your location before the beasts turned everyone into dinner.”

  “Thank you,” Faoros rushed to bow before his savior. He then turned his attention to the barren area surrounding them. “Is everything truly gone?”

  As the dust settled, the blue-caped guard ordered his unit to relax their formation. The beasts were slowly but surely pushed back. “The sudden attack left you disoriented.” He sighed and let the pointy end of his sword pierce the ground. “I am Knight Eleo of the Guards. We were in charge of protecting your territory, but… circumstances delayed us.” The old knight offered the velvet gem to Faoros. “This isn’t much, but if you want a fresh start, visit the Central Bank. It will pay the fee for you to join us and get a steady job. Our work is not always pleasant, but it won’t leave you starving.”

  “Thank you for your generosity… Knight Eleo.” The words left a strange aftertaste in his mouth.

  “Praise the Lord Captain, recruit.” The blue-caped Knight turned to leave. They had cleared a path through the beasts that had swarmed the area. “It is his policy to offer this chance to any orphan of the beasts’ attacks, an apology for being late to react in time. For him, and for us, you are all recruits.”

  “So, this is a merit,” Faoros mumbled, playing with the strange stone between his fingertips. Although Knight Eleo’s offer was probably the best course of action for his fellow students, Faoros had other plans; he had to visit the gallows first and reunite with Belo as soon as possible.

  As soon as he left the ravaged land behind, Faoros entered a part of the city that had been occupied. The narrow streets were covered in dirt and stone. Every passerby looked poor. They wore tattered robes made of torn wool. Their faces were dirty, and most of them were barefoot. Only the guards patrolling the streets seemed to enjoy any privileges, but even they wore suspicious expressions. Unlike the citizens, though, the guards wore armor, whether metal or leather, and boots that covered their ankles. Faoros did not dare speak to any of the passersby. Instead, he asked the guards for directions. They gave him a quick look before offering a weak smile and pointing him in the right direction. His heart ached at how poor these people looked, but he soon realized that he was no different in the guards’ eyes. His only merit was not enough to rent a carriage, let alone pay the usual price for weapons or plain clothing. He had to walk. Without another word, he merged into the crowd and followed the directions to the gallows.

  The journey was long, and by the time the sun reached its zenith, his feet were bleeding. On purpose, he had avoided any barren areas overseen by armed Etal. In mere moments, he had become a citizen of the Game. His vision blurred when a low obstacle hit his legs. He stumbled; his reaction time was too slow to keep himself upright.

  A hand reached out and grabbed his arm. “Easy there, citizen. You’re too young not to take care of yourself.”

  Faoros met the gaze of a middle-aged father and his older, gray-haired wife. In front of them, the source of his disorientation started crying out. A young girl carried her father’s sheathed knife and swung it like a toy. “I am terribly sorry. I was lost in thought.”

  “Everyone is these days. We never know when the beasts will strike again,” the wife added. “Stay away from the wall and we will take care of you.”

  Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

  “I will surely do that. Thank you for your understanding.” Faoros jerked his head and stared at their backs. Only the girl turned to look at him again before they vanished into the crowd.

  It was the first time Faoros had seen a whole family. No student ever got to know his parents, except for a few lucky ones. Belo was among them, but he was too young when they had visited him.

  With heavy footsteps and the sun following his trail, Faoros trekked forward. The gallows were deserted by the time he reached them; no imminent execution was planned. Only a few soldiers patrolled the area, and the wooden platform was covered in dirt and stained with dry blood. Faoros saw more rats scurrying through the grounds than guards. This depressed him further. It didn’t take long to spot his friend, Belo, taking the same route.

  “Faoros!” he called, waving his hands.

  Faoros walked over to him. “Great minds think alike.”

  Belo grinned and pointed at the deserted platform, “I couldn’t gather any useful information. The guards on duty today have only heard rumors about the accident.”

  “But I think you have already thought of a solution.”

  “It’s not a solution, but it’s a starting point. The game manual was very clear on this.”

  “The manual?”

  “Did you not read it? You know, you had enough time before they set up your Pilot. You could have prepared for the Game beforehand.”

  “I think I skipped that part.” Faoros scratched the back of his head. “I’ll read it after we return to the real world. It shouldn’t—”

  “Whatever, you better not forget it.” Belo sighed. “Miss Tite will be furious. In any case, if we can’t find the guards here, we can visit the Central Bank. It is their headquarters, after all, and the place where they store their merits. We might find a guard who witnessed the accident in person there.”

  “It’s not a bad plan,” Faoros admitted. Still, hearing Belo call the crystals ‘merits’ reminded him how fortunate some students were. “If you have any useful tips from your previous visit, please share them with me. I won’t leak your secrets.”

  Belo quickly dismissed him without much thought. “It was just a lucky visit when I was younger. I caught a glimpse of the place. Nothing too grand about the typology though.” A violet gem emerged from his woolen robe pocket. “The merits here are no different than our IDs. I had the chance to use them before as well. Apart from this, don’t think I have much of an advantage. I—”

  “Sorry for bringing this up.” Faoros cut his friend off. “We have more pressing matters than dwelling on the past. I have news about the accident, but you must promise to keep it a secret from everyone. Anyone, including our teachers.”

  Belo frowned, his lips shaking briefly. “Look, why should we hide anything from them? You know their advice can be very valuable in most situations.”

  “I want you to trust me on this. We should not mix up our lives at the academy with our actions in the Game. This way it will not affect our brief time out in real life.”

  “But—”

  “You can hear me out first, and then decide for yourself. I’m sure you’ll see my point.”

  Faoros left no room for Belo to object and soon began his story. As time was running out, with the sun slowly giving way to the moon, they started gathering information about the Central Bank. They asked the guards patrolling the streets for directions, employing the same tactic as before. Fortunately, the Central Bank was not far from the gallows. They were already on their way there when Faoros finished his story.

  “...and then a wild beast appeared, and the guard pierced right through its stomach... It is clear in the manual that our starting points depend on our trial period. We were right to visit the same places.” Belo was describing his own experience to Faoros. The similarities between the two events were obvious to the point where Faoros wondered how many areas were struck by the sudden attack of the beasts. Was this thing recurring every year for the new students to join?

  “In my opinion, these are imperfections that have yet to be refined. There is a long way to go for the Game to truly mimic real life.” Belo concluded, then gave way for Faoros to continue with his story. He recounted the events of the past day and his meeting with Miss Vione, obscuring only one detail from his close friend; the words the black-haired girl had whispered to him before throwing him out of the Game. Nevertheless, his friend’s face betrayed his surprise; his lips tightened when he heard that this strange girl had pushed him out of the gallows and his mouth fell open when Faoros revealed his meeting with Vice-Principal Rino and Vione Unbound.

  “Why would they place so much importance on a single accident?” Belo scratched his left cheek and fell into deep thought, “There is certainly no law obliging a Lord to act on any misgivings in the Game. I recall various paragraphs about maintenance, and even Lords sending their closest partners to test the Game’s integrity but there’s no reason for them to reach for a student to inspect an accident.” He paused, his nails cutting into his skin, “On the other hand, it's too much of a coincidence for an Unbound family to be murdered, and then an accident to occur. Even if they’re just Natives in the Game. Could it be an error that the Lord is trying to fix? That could explain their interest and Miss Vione’s actions.”

  “I am of the same mind.” Faoros agreed. “But I feel we are overlooking a crucial hint. Perhaps we will find our answers in the Central Bank.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up. If you had attended more history classes, you would know that the bureaucracy of the past was unimaginable. If the Game is truly a simulation of the past, then this aspect of life has been retained as well.”

  Belo’s prophetic words soon came to pass. Having reached the Central Bank, Faoros was once again confronted with the inequalities of this world. He had spent his evening walking around the city, and had yet to see a building higher than two stories. The Central Bank was the first building to reach four floors, constructed from well-chiseled, white stone. Its doors were made of metal, and there were six guards stationed around it. They didn’t bother any of the visitors; instead, they offered them a mere glance before nodding in approval.

  “We should test this out,” Belo whispered to Faoros. “Every Native of the Game has a tattoo of a rising fist on their neck. The guards will probably react differently to us because we are not marked.”

  Faoros merely nodded his head. He had already heard this crucial detail from Miss Vione. In the eyes of the academy, every student was an Alter, a real person immersed in the Game. The tattoos were designed to help them distinguish each other; a tiny detail that could prove immensely helpful.

  Belo and Faoros entered the building and quickly became optimistic. The employees were friendly and helped them immediately with depositing their merits. However, as soon as they started to believe that they would make progress regarding the accident, their hopes were dashed. Once the transaction was complete, no one was willing to help them. Time and time again, they were met with failure. The guards stationed there insisted that they first join the guards before asking any questions. Even the employees refused to conduct any business apart from accepting their merits. Faoros tried to speak to a younger guard who looked friendlier, but he only managed to deliver a monologue to which he received no reply.

  They both left the central bank at the same time and looked at each other. Their disappointment was apparent in their blunt expressions; there was no need for words.

  “So, what’s next?” Faoros broke the silence. He hoped that his friend, who had the prudence to read the manual, would have an idea.

  “There should be—”

  “Hey! Over here!” A loud voice interrupted Belo, “I am addressing the two of you. The pair over there. Look here!”

  “Hold up.” Faoros whispered and faced the stranger who was calling for them. There was a hooded figure using the shadows of a nearby alley to conceal his face. Still, Faoros had the impression they had met again.

  “If you don’t hurry, I am going to take my leave,” the stranger warned. “This is your only shot at glory, juniors.”

  Without consulting Belo, Faoros rushed toward the stranger. Belo growled behind him and tried to keep up with his friend. He was certain that he was shouting for him to think twice before trusting the first stranger they had met in the Game, but Faoros was a well-behaved slave to his curiosity. He had to find out where this familiarity came from. The figure vanished into an alleyway, and Faoros gave chase without hesitation.

  “Very good, very good indeed.” The hooded man laughed heartily. “We were right to plant the seed in fertile soil.” Belo reached them when the man lowered his hood. The source of Faoros’ curiosity disappeared in an instant in front of his unconcealed head. His memory was engraved with the image of this smooth face with its glittering dark eyes, uncombed black hair, and feverish smile. “I am Aselom,” he said and bowed slightly, extending his hand toward them. “And I am pleased to extend an invitation to you both to join our selected team.”

  ?? From the Desk of Schwarzburg:

  Welcome into the Game of Life! You followed Faoros long enough to join the simulation!

  ?? News & Missives:

  Crickets

  ?? Toss a Coin to Your Author:

  ? Support the Journey on Patreon

  Dear reader, thank you for being here. Every comment, piece of feedback, and rating fuels the next chapter.