A soft tap-tap-tap and gurgly click-click-click caught my attention. Looking up with a smirk, I spotted my sandcrawler pacing near the entrance our cave. The cavern wasn't deep and showed no signs of previous inhabitants, making it perfect for a temporary hideout. And, apparently, my newfound friend had appointed himself guardian.
I pulled a dead fish from my inventory and tossed it his way. He launched skyward, catching it in his fangs before landing with a clatter of chitin. Since he'd stuck around despite my initial doubts, I'd given him a name: Gripjaw, The Mighty Defender.
A little over the top, but hey. Whatever.
As he stripped scales from his prize, I knelt to touch the three ingredients surrounding the mask, teleporting them back to my inventory before lifting the wooden cloud. The markings were cut; now I just needed to smooth the edges. Pulling out sandpaper, I worked at the surface while wandering toward the cave-mouth, thinking about the next ingredient I needed.
I'd seen several violet pearls for sale in the market. The real question was affordability. I could scour the ocean floor for sellable items and dropped coins, but that might take three or four days. With the festival only five days away, time was running short.
Reaching the cave's opening, I inhaled the familiar salty sea air. The entrance overlooked a steep slope of blue-gray stones tumbling down to a secluded beach.
I was still out of breath from climbing all the way up here. Though as my breathing steadied, my interface blinked with notifications. I finally checked them out:
[+25 XP for slaying Lesser Redfin]
[+20 XP for slaying Bobbing Urchin]
[+25 XP for slaying Speed Squid]
[Total: 100/100 XP - Level Up!]
Glowing light flashed around me as I advanced from level 12 to 13. The sensation was soothing and warm, relaxing my muscles. I laughed, turquoise mist puffing past my lips. When the light faded, it left me cold—like stepping out of a hot shower.
Attributes
- Health (HP): 80 / 80 + 5 = 85 / 85
- Magic (MP): 75 / 90 + 5 = 95 / 95
- Stamina: 70 / 70 + 5 = 75 / 75
- Attack: 15 + 8 = 23 / 23
- Defense: 18 + 3 = 21 / 21
- Speed: 22 + 3 = 25 / 25
[+1 Skill Point]
With my new skill point, I immediately enhanced mask crafting. No point spreading points thin when I didn't plan on staying in this world long.
[Mask Craft: Level 3 → Level 4]
- Create masks with recipes that may require essences to unlock advanced effects.
- Certain masks demand specific essences.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
- Crafting Times:
- Common: 1 hour and 30 minutes
- Uncommon: 5 hours and 30 minutes
- Rare: 6 days and 23 hours
- Epic: 3 weeks and 6 days
- Legendary: 2 months and 3 weeks
- Bonus: Adding essence during crafting reduces time by 15% and increases the mask's power by 10%.
Strange how each skill showed a number out of 100, with mask craft having climbed significantly these past couple of days. The system confirmed that each level-up granted at least one skill point to apply anywhere, and that made my stupid smile grow wide.
Mask Craft (Level 4) [67/100 (Initiate)]
I felt the upgrade integrate—fingers tingling, mind sharpening. Every unsightly ridge on the mask became more apparent as I worked. This was perfect. Even shaving off a few hours of crafting time would help immensely.
But that violet pearl…
I squinted toward the setting sun, watching its orange glow paint the clouds and sea. Flocks of red birds soared distant, making Gripjaw tense. Night approached—my usual hours away from this cave. Not because I was wanted or anything, but because I preferred avoiding Rosamae, her snobby friend, or anyone from the guild. I didn’t want to talk or explain or see anyone. I just wanted to finish this mask and go home.
And I was beginning to wonder if I might need to employ…other measures to acquire that pearl. The thought made me scrunch my nose. Video game world or not, stealing an expensive thing felt wrong. I'd never been one to break laws, but was it worth the risk? Because grinding for money would cut things close…
A distant shout pierced the silence, snapping me from my thoughts. Wind ruffled my hair as I cocked my head, straining to hear more. When no other cries followed, I wondered if I'd simply mistaken a seabird's call for a human shout. My gaze drifted to a mist-shrouded island on the horizon—barely more than a smudge of darkness I could blot out with my thumb.
As I waited and listened for another cry, memories of whispered rumors surfaced. They spoke of a sage dwelling on that very rock, a being of great wisdom…and equally great danger. The thought settled in my gut like a cold stone. I wanted the shrine to work, but if it proved empty, that treacherous island might be my only hope. Better not to think of things like that…
A pained scream tore through the air, making me jump. I glanced at Gripjaw, who cocked his head. Okay, that definitely wasn’t a—
Something whooshed past the opening of the cave. I flinched back, then rushed to the edge just in time to see a figure slam against the rocks with a sickening crack before tumbling down the steep slope toward the beach.
My jaw dropped. Holy hell—that was a person! Had someone shoved him?
I looked to the cliff far above, searching for the culprit. The growing dimness revealed nothing. But my heart pounded.
“He might still be alive,” I said to the sandcrawler, swinging over the cave's lip, carefully picking my way down. Gripjaw scuttled beside me, hopping from rock to rock as thoughts crowded my mind. Was this…murder? Or had someone simply stumbled drunk off the edge?
Finally reaching the blue-gray sand, I crept past tall, jagged rocks before peeking out. A dozen feet away lay a man in shimmering red silk. The golden scales and long, curling whiskers confirmed it—the councilman from the Manta Moo. The hotshot who'd strolled in to cheers and applause. The one I'd instantly despised.
But now, watching from behind a barnacle-crusted boulder, a sick weight settled in my gut. Blood stained the sand around him. The pit in my stomach expanded, threatening to tear through. Gripjaw climbed my back, humming anxiously as he peered over my shoulder.
Was he dead? Should I…check?
I almost stepped out into the open, but stopped when Gripjaw hissed softly in my ear. Following his gaze, I spotted a figure about fifty paces down the shoreline. Wind whipped at their black cloak, though their hood remained steady, face hidden behind a white mask etched with a dark, swirling pattern.
I froze, barely daring to peek around the rock as the man approached the councilman. A glowing white sword materialized in his hand, its blade long and wavy. Without hesitation, he plunged it into the councilman's chest.
The victim arched back in a silent scream as light flooded his scaly skin. He blazed like a star, the light so bright I slammed my eyes shut, shielding them against the burning glare. When the spots cleared from my vision, my guts dropped—only bones remained where the man had been.
The masked figure's sword vanished in a puff of mist. They swept their cloak over the bones; when they pulled it back, even those were gone. Only blood-stained sand marked the councilman's end. Then the murderer turned and strode away, disappearing into the growing night.
I remained frozen behind the rock, barely breathing, muscles locked rigid. When I finally tried to move, every joint creaked. I had to manually uncurl my cramped fingers. Gripjaw clung to my shoulder, shivering. Both moons hung high overhead—how long had I crouched there?
"What…the…hell…” My jaw chattered.
Though shaking and nauseated, I tried convincing myself that the councilman deserved it. That he'd oppressed the poor, ruined lives. But as I pushed to my feet and retreated down the opposite beach—not daring to climb back up where I might be spotted—I couldn't shake the sickness churning in my gut.
I needed time to process what I'd witnessed. But no—I shook out my hands and stood straighter, letting out a shuddered breath. This had to motivate me. Another reason to leave, to finish the mask.
Get that pearl, complete my work, and get out.
He was just a councilman, belonging to a corrupt institution. He deserved it.
But even as I slunk from shadow to shadow, I couldn't quite convince myself. And so I hurried, wanting to get as far away from that blood-stained sand as possible.