Galactic Fist of Legend: Volume 2 Read online

  "Yeah, yeah. Victory shall be yours..." Scott turned away from her then said, "Quietly tell me what you see them doing as we move forward. If you see anything interesting beyond them, let me know."

  "Of course." Saelil laughed softly once more.

  They moved out of the grass and back onto the road. Saelil followed him as best she could without giving away her existence.

  A few minutes later she spoke up quietly, "They've seen you, beloved."

  "What are they saying?" he asked softly, his lips barely moving.

  "They are mostly mentioning your presence. Something about being ready in case there's trouble," said Saelil.

  After another few minutes, Scott's eyes began to focus on individual aspects of the blobs. Saelil kept him informed of what they said or did. She also mentioned that she could see the rudimentary beginnings of a village beyond them.

  There was a hill blocking Scott's view until he was much closer. At that point, he could see the outline of houses against a wooded area in the distance.

  "They've noticed that you aren't wearing any pants," said Saelil in a quieter voice. "They are laughing and pointing."

  Scott pretended to yawn and said, "Thanks for letting me know," while his mouth was covered by his hand. Of course, by this point he could see what they were doing.

  "Well, hahwahya! Looks like someone put ya throwh tha ringah," said the big black haired man.

  "Yeah, been a rough few days," said Scott while effecting a pleasant smile.

  "Looking tah head down tah the villhahge?" asked the man in a rapid pace.

  "I was just passing through, yeah," said Scott with a casual smile.

  The younger blond man smiled broadly, and then spoke quickly. "Well theah's nothin' theah. Whole tawn's toah up..."

  Scott blinked. "Really? What happened?" he asked, after deciphering what sounded like a bad approximation of a Boston accent.

  The other blond, a slender man with a stick, spoke up. "Yeah! Mahscannah's done it. He's a champ, too..." His accent was just as bad, like the Pepperidge Farm man on crack. For the life of him, Scott had never heard a thicker Boston accent. Were these people even for real?

  Still, the words became easier to decipher as the men spoke. Rather, it seemed like they spoke the same, but Scott understood it more clearly. There was obviously something going on behind the scenes.

  "Wicked!" cried the younger blond. "Owah luckah dayh."

  Scott's eyes narrowed. This did not bode well at all, even if the accent seemed to disappear for the most part. Whatever translated languages for him to understand people properly, seemed to take accents into account as well. Somehow, he could understand these men easier now. Though, that understanding did not leave him more comfortable in the slightest.

  The black haired man grinned then looked at Scott. "You have no ideah how glad weah to see you."

  "Why's that, sports fan?" asked Scott casually. The accent was nearly gone from the man's words now.

  The big man drew a large two-handed sword from inventory. "Sorry, my sword's thirsty," said the man. Rather, he said, "Saweh, mahsawhd's thahsty," but the miracle of game translation rendered it into the normal intelligible speech of an actual human being.

  It was weird to hear the man for Scott. He had a few family members who lived up around Maryland. They had a version of this overly abused accent in their voice. It was actually pleasant to hear them speak at times, sort of fun. These guys were just flat out irritating. Even the few people he'd spoken too from Boston did not have the accent to this extent.

  "What exactly are you guys planning?" asked Scott, while trying to remain calm. Why would they just threaten him like this?

  "Nothing personal, kid. We just need the points," said the younger blond. His accent slipping away completely. Though, in Scott's eyes it looked like his mouth moved slightly out of sync with his words. It was as though he were being live action dubbed into a language Scott could properly understand.

  "Points?" asked Scott, casually.

  "Come on, don't play dumb. You know you have to kill each other off to earn EXP to buy better gear, if we don't want to keep dying," said the black haired man.

  Scott stared at him. "If you're like me, why not just finish your mission and buy stuff from your home point?"

  The three men blinked then looked to each other. The black haired man asked, "What are you talking about? You completed the mission?"

  "I've done a lot of missions... How are you even alive if you haven't done any?" asked Scott. "Didn't you run out of life span?"

  "Oh, that...? No that's suspended while we're here," said the sword wielder. "Mission's tough so no one's beat it, yet..."

  "What's your mission?" asked Scott.

  The three men glanced at each other again then back to Scott. "Same as everyone's," said the black haired man.

  "We have to get down into the underworld, find that burning heart thing, and take it to the town about two day's walk from here," said the swordsman while jerking his thumb in the direction that Scott and Saelil were originally going.

  "I see. So you, what... plan to kill me instead of just hunting for EXP?" asked Scott calmly.

  "Hunting? Are you kidding?" The black haired man stared at him like he was stupid. "You know damn well, it would take months to scrape up even a few hundred EXP doing that! With a one year deadline, and only one chance a month to end this, killing each other off is the only way to earn enough..."

  Scott understand in that moment. This was their introductory mission! These poor bastards, and the others they killed, were placed in this world setting from the start!

  The difficulty was not that high in the overworld, but they were unable to increase their stats until they finished their mission. They needed to rely on equipment acquisition. The easiest route was just to kill off the competition.

  "I see, so you intend to kill me just to buy equipment?" asked Scott.

  "Kid, it's not personal, but that's how it is," said the black haired man. "You gotta die, so we can get our points, and get out of this damned place."

  "What's the going rate for murder?" asked Scott. "More to the point, you do realize that killing off the other players is putting our entire planet in jeopardy, right?"

  "You haven't player killed, yet? How the hell are you not desiccated or dead?" asked the younger blond.

  The way the younger man put that last bit, unnerved Scott. Desiccated or dead could only mean one thing. He could die for real in this world, and probably through the means these fine upstanding assholes wished to employ.

  "Enough of this, just die already!" called out the black haired man. He swung his sword hard at Scott. His powerful frame gave rise to strong attack power, a force that had taken the lives of several players.

  The trio was greatly surprised when their would-be prey casually deflected the strike with his shield, knocked the man off-balance, and then countered with an almost casual attack that tore through the man's leather armor like it was made of butter. Scott's lack of trained skill was easily overcome by his upgraded status, and additional abilities that reinforced coordination, when facing regular human beings with lesser equipment.

  "David!" cried the younger brother, as blood spurted out of his elder brother's abdominal cavity in large volume.

  The black haired man screamed in agony, but never had the chance to recover before Scott pressed his attack. He'd spent his time in deadly combat, and knew that it could cause mental issues. The home point helped him a great deal by resetting his chemical balance. Otherwise, he might be even more off in the head than he was now. These fuck nuggets, though, they murdered off the hope for their entire race one-by-one because it was easier to just kill people than to come up with a better solution that took more effort.

  Scott rammed his shield forward and then rocketed it upward to slam it into the big man's chin. David's head snapped back with great force and he fell limply to the ground. Blood poured from his mouth, his jaw broken by the power of the
blow.

  Would Scott have ended up like this? Would he have become a roadside murderer for a few experience points? It was possible, and he hated himself in that moment for realizing it. However, despite the brief instant of understanding, he did not falter in his determination.

  His sword raced downward for the killing blow. Murderers and their backstories be damned. An entire planet, everyone and everything he ever knew, only continued to exist until the last champion fell. Killing each other off for points was the worst thing that could be done from that perspective.

  "Frozen Hell!" screamed the blond man with the stick. His words were high-pitched, frantic.

  Scott's instincts, honed by hundreds of little battles at this point, caused him to hurl himself forward into a barrel roll. A wave of breezing air blast through the area where he stood only a moment before. He continued to roll a few times then popped up like it was nothing.

  "God dammit! How can he be so fast!" cried the staff wielder, as Scott's eyes oriented on him.

  The younger blond tossed a bottle toward Scott, but instincts won out once more. He leapt away in time to avoid being barbecued by the sudden fiery eruption.

  "Molotov cocktails, really?" asked Scott with a snort. "You assholes are so fucking lucky my gear was downgraded for this mission."

  The younger blond man tossed another Molotov, which Scott also dodged. However, just before he hit the ground, the mage went into action.

  "Frozen hell!" cried the mage.

  The wave of freezing air washed over Scott. The timing of the assault reduced his mobility, he was only fast enough to partially avoid the full strength of the blast. Ice coated his skin in various areas, slowing him down slightly and doing minor damage.

  "That stings, you know," said Scott with a laugh. His regained hit points were no doubt used up completely to resist the icy attack, but it did not matter. The look of fear on the mage's face was enough to keep Scott warm at night. 'Hell yeah. Burn with envy and fear you pathetic murdering fuck-nugget,' thought Scott.

  Molotov guy tossed a few more, and then while Scott was busy, he pulled out a monocle to look him over. Frozen hell guy used his power three more times to keep Scott at bay.

  "Fucking ridiculous... Where's my gun when I need it?" asked Scott. His only abilities at the moment were melee or undead focused. Neither were useful against living people at a distance. He muttered unhappily about wanting to pop a few plasma rounds in their heads. For the moment, he had to settle for slowly making his way toward his opponents while the bastards kited him from a distance. The magic and the Molotovs would probably run out eventually, and then their asses would be his.

  "Holy shit—" cried the Molotov guy. He was unable to finish his outcry as the mage lifted his hand high and cried out, "Return!"

  The ring on the mage's finger flared brightly, and the trio disappeared within the span of less than a second.

  Scott panted slightly and looked around. The asshole trio was gone, but reminders of the battle were clear. Frozen and fire blasted dirt resided near the blood stained the earth where David fell in the beginning of the conflict.

  "Damn. This... Damn..." said Scott. The first people he'd seen from his home world since this all began, and they turned out to be player killers. What were the odds? Worse, were most of the champions in this world like this now?

  "You were wonderful, beloved," said Saelil as she came out of hiding. "You showed those highwaymen the truth of your power!"

  Scott looked at his ghostly elven cheerleader then smiled. "I suppose, so. I hate that it happened, though. If they were not killers, we could have shared tips and information."

  Saelil nodded. "At least we know where we must go, however."

  "We do?" asked Scott. Before she could answer, his eyes widened and he said, "Yeah, you're right. They probably needed to get your heart and take it to the town they mentioned. Though, what that once a month business meant, I don't know."

  There was a lot that Scott did not know. However, he would need to keep on his guard for the remainder of this mission.

  "Well, since we're here let's take all their stuff," said Scott cheerfully.

  "Yes!" cried Saelil excitedly.

  The camp was a bit lackluster as far as items went. There were a few bedrolls, a campfire, and various bits of food and clothing left in a bag. Nothing extremely useful, though Scott now had pants to wear. There were no stats attached to his new clothing item, however.

  He took a half-burnt piece of ham off of a skewer and delighted in its flavor when he ate it. "Yay, meat!"

  "Yay!" exclaimed Saelil warmly.

  "You are much more— Ah... jubilant, than you seemed at first," said Scott. Well, she was at least friendly once he kicked the snot out of her lich form, or whatever it was. Now she seemed like she needed pom-poms and spanky pants.

  She merely smiled then whirled around in place once before sitting down near him. "I'm usually more reserved, true. However, just being here and witnessing the wonders of the world above once more has filled me with joy."

  They chatted happily while Scott devoured his meaty spoils of war. There was no intention to stay at their current location for long. However, a brief rest and a meal was good.

  Eventually, Scott stored what he could within his inventory then they headed out. What the town would hold for them, was anyone's guess. First, he would check the ruined village for potential supplies, however.

  Chapter 10

  Half-burnt houses, the scent of death, and the corpses of animals greeted the duo as they arrived at the village. There were no humanoid corpses to be seen, but a large sign pounded down into the middle of the main entrance road told the tale.

  [Notice]

  Lawlessness, murder, and player-killing outside of self-defense will not be tolerated. Let all those who would murder the residents of this world, or their own, know that we will stop you.

  ~ The Burning Heart Crusaders Guild

  [--]

  "So, that's what happened," said Scott.

  "What does this say, beloved?" asked Saelil curiously.

  "You can't read it?" asked Scott.

  Saelil shook her head. "No, the language uses strange symbols."

  Scott glanced at her then back to the sign. "It seems there were people here like those guys back on the road. Some people took offense at their lifestyle and killed them all."

  "I see," she said simply. Killing bandits was a common thing in this world. The idea of burning out a village of them was not that surprising.

  They spent a little time searching through the ruins of the small village. Other than the graveyard in back, and the pile of burnt corpses next to it, there was nothing worthy of note. Either the crusaders looted the place, or the surviving player killers did it after the crusaders left.

  Scott shook his head at the pile of corpses then returned to the road. Nothing of interest happened for the remainder of the day. His vitality was high enough that walking all night was not an issue either. Now that he had clothes, and a little food and water, even his chaffing was no longer an issue. It healed completely within the first few hours.

  Come dawn he discovered something truly bizarre that brought the journey to a sudden halt. There was a nearly naked man standing in a grassy field off the side of the road. He wore only two things, a full-face helm, and a sock puppet. The puppet also wore a helmet, but the strangest thing about it was the location where the man wore the puppet itself. There were certainly odd types of condoms in existence, but none were as strange as that sock puppet.

  "Praise it!" cried the man through his helmet. His arms were up in the air making his body into a 'Y' shape.

  Saelil coughed slightly and hid behind Scott. Ghost of a long dead sorceress or not, this was a weird scene.

  "Ah travelers..." said the nearly naked man. He turned toward them, the sock puppet pointing suggestively. It was dressed like a crusading knight, complete with a bucket style great helm like the one its owner wore.

&
nbsp; "Yeah..." said Scott with a grunt.

  The man threw his hands up into the air once more, and his sock puppet pointed toward the sky. "Is it not a glorious morning to be alive!?"

  "Well, yes..." said Scott, while trying not to look at the sock puppet. It was hard, in more ways than one.

  "You are quite glorious today brother!" cried the man while staring up at the sun.

  "The sun is your brother?" asked Saelil.

  "The sun is every man's brother, my dear ghostly elf maiden!" exclaimed the nearly naked man. He laughed wildly for a moment then became stone sober. "You might consider more sunlight, dear lady. You are awfully pale.

  "Well, I'm a ghost..." she admitted.

  "That's really no excuse," he replied candidly. The sock puppet shook itself lightly from side to side like it was shaking its head.

  "I don't have an actual body to soak in the rays of the sun," she replied.

  He tilted his helmeted head toward her then placed a finger where his chin would be. "That is a bit of a semi-transparent pickle, I suppose."

  "So, not to bother you and your praising of the sun, but is the town of Roscaliane near here?" asked Scott.

  "Ah, yes. You are perhaps one good march from there now, at most," said the man. His sock puppet bobbed up and down like it was nodding. It then pointed toward the direction that Scott and Saelil were already heading. "Just keep on this road here, brother."

  Scott could not help but notice the puppet's movements, and blinked. "Yes, thank you..."

  "You are quite welcome, unlike me," said the man with a sigh.

  "You are unwelcome?" asked Saelil.

  "Sadly, yes. The good people of Roscaliane won't let me come into the city during the day." He turned toward Saelil then placed one hand to his hip and canted them to the side. He gestured with his free hand in a mildly effeminate manner. "I don't know why, but they find me unusual."

  "I... see," she said while slowly nodding her head.