_____
10
[NOTICE]
PVP CULLING THRESHOLD MET
25% OF ACTIVE PLAYERS ELIMINATED
QUEST COMPLETE
XP DISTRIBUTION:
— PERFORMANCE-BASED —
REWARDS PENDING
The System did not announce itself gently. It never did. The text burned into existence in the air above the ruined armory, cold and indifferent. Dorian stared at it without expression. Somewhere nearby, someone sobbed. Somewhere else, someone laughed hysterically. The System did not care. Helena reached for his hand. Her fingers were shaking. “Can we… can we talk?” she asked quietly. Dorian nodded and guided her a few steps away from the others, into a corner where the shadows pooled thickest.
He turned to face her, really face her, and saw what she was trying so hard to hide. Fear. Not the sharp, explosive kind that made people scream or run. The slow, suffocating fear that settled into the bones and whispered about all the ways you could die next. “You’re doing amazing,” he said before she could speak. She let out a weak, broken laugh. “I don’t feel amazing. I feel like I’m one bad spell away from being… gone.” Her voice cracked.
“How are you so calm? How are you not terrified?” Dorian studied her face for a long moment. Then his expression softened. He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Because compared to my childhood,” he said quietly, “this is familiar.” She froze. “My entire life,” he continued, voice low, steady, “was lived under the constant threat of violence. Of death. Of one wrong move meaning someone I loved would suffer.” He exhaled slowly. “This game is insane. It’s brutal. But it’s not new to me.” Her eyes filled instantly. She rose on her toes and kissed him, hard and desperate, pouring everything she couldn’t say into the contact. When she pulled back, her hands fisted in his shirt. “I’m here,” she whispered. “Always. I love you. I don’t care how fucked up this world gets.” He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said. “Just keep leveling. Skills. Stats. This thing may be horrifying, but it’s not impossible. There’s… a structure to it. A kind of fairness.” The lie tasted bitter even as he said it. She nodded, clinging to him. Then her eyes dropped. “The curse,” she said softly. “Can I see it?” He hesitated. Then nodded. Dorian pulled down the collar of his shirt. The darkness beneath his skin had spread. Veins like inked lightning crept from the bite mark across his shoulder and down his arm, pulsing faintly as if alive. Helena’s breath caught.
“Oh gods,” she whispered. “I’m such a fucking idiot, I…” He lifted a finger and pressed it gently to her lips. “It’s okay,” he said. “It slows when I pump points into Vitality. It’s manageable.” It wasn’t. Not really. “Just keep leveling your Hexbinder stuff,” he added. “You might unlock a remove curse skill. Or suppression. Something.”
She nodded, swallowing hard. I hate lying to her, he thought. But I can’t let her carry this too. The System interrupted again, brutally punctual.
[NOTICE]
QUEST UPDATE
CULLING OBJECTIVE COMPLETE
XP ASSIGNMENT IN PROGRESS
SYSTEM PROPOSAL DETECTED
— HUMAN FREE WILL VARIANCE —
WAVE COUNT ADJUSTED
TOTAL WAVES: 10
WARNING:
DIFFICULTY SCALING INCREASED
SURVIVAL PROBABILITY DECREASED
A pause. Then more.
[SIDE QUEST AVAILABLE]
VENTURE INTO THE DARK WOODS
OBJECTIVE: SLAY THE BOSS
REWARD: BONUS XP
NOTE:
THE FOREST CONTAINS TREASURES
A timer appeared.
NEXT WAVE BEGINS IN: 120 HOURS
Evan let out a low whistle as he and Lena approached. “Well,” he said, flexing his arms carefully, “what do you think, boss man? Worth the risk?” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “Boss?” Evan grinned. “You didn’t notice? You’ve been calling shots since the wolves.” Lena nodded. “You told me to cast a fireball without even looking at me,” she said. “And it worked. We’re still alive.” Dorian exhaled slowly. “Not all of us.”
The mood shifted instantly. Helena looked away. Evan’s grin faded. Lena’s hands clenched. Helena broke the silence. “The woods might have potions. Gear. Anything’s better than sitting here waiting.” She shuddered. “And I don’t want to be around if Calvin comes back. He’s a psycho.” Dorian’s jaw tightened. “Next time we see him,” he said flatly, “he dies. For Maria. For going after you.” Evan cracked his knuckles. “Good. I call breaking his jaw first.” The air shimmered. Then the System spoke again, louder this time, its presence undeniable, inescapable.
[DECISION REACHED]
XP AND REWARDS
DISTRIBUTION INITIATED
Dorian felt it first, a sudden pressure behind his eyes, a weight settling into his bones. Not pain. Not pleasure. Something colder and more absolute. Numbers moving. Thresholds breaking. The screen snapped fully into focus.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
[COMBAT PERFORMANCE EVALUATED]
KILLING BLOW CONFIRMED:
TARGET: ARCANIST (HUMAN)
BONUS MULTIPLIERS APPLIED:
- PVP EVENT
- CLASS ADVANTAGE
- FINISHER EXECUTION
LEVEL UP!
LEVEL UP!
LEVEL UP!
LEVEL UP!
His breath caught. Four. Four levels, dumped into him all at once like a hammer strike.
CURRENT LEVEL: 9
UNSPENT STAT POINTS: +20
Helena gasped softly beside him. Evan let out a low, impressed whistle. Lena stared openly, awe and unease mixing on her face. Before anyone could say a word, something else happened. The air in front of Dorian distorted, folding inward as if space itself were being peeled back. A small chest materialized and dropped to the stone floor with a dull, heavy thud. Black and smooth but it looked ancient and new at the same time, its surface absorbing light instead of reflecting it. Helena frowned. “Is that… for all of us?” The System answered before Dorian could.
[REWARD ALLOCATION]
PERSONAL LOOT CHEST ASSIGNED
ELIGIBILITY: DORIAN BLACK
PARTY MEMBERS COMPENSATED VIA XP
Evan shrugged. “Figures.” Another series of notifications rolled across their vision almost simultaneously.
LEVEL UP!
LEVEL UP!
CURRENT LEVEL: 7
Helena, Evan, Lena, even Wilhelm, all felt the surge, the quiet recalibration of their bodies and minds as the System rewarded survival. Dorian stepped forward. He knelt and opened the chest. There was no flash of light. No triumphant fanfare. Inside lay a dagger. Its blade was stark white, matte and jagged, resembling polished bone rather than metal. It looked impossibly sharp, edges too clean, too hungry. The hilt was pitch black, wrapped in a material that felt warm despite the cold air, almost pulsing faintly under his fingers. The moment he touched it, the System reacted. Dorian read it aloud.
[ITEM IDENTIFICATION COMPLETE]
NAME: Fang of the Vampyr Lord
TYPE: Dagger
RARITY: UNIQUE
EFFECT:
- Siphons life from struck targets
- Restores Health on successful damage
WARNING:
THIS BLADE HUNGERS FOR BLOOD
FEED IT OFTEN
OR IT MAY SEEK YOURS INSTEAD
Evan muttered, “That’s… comforting.” Dorian barely heard him. The dagger pulsed. A thin red aura bled out from the hilt and flowed into Dorian’s hand, like smoke moving against gravity. It crept up his arm, warm and invasive, threading through muscle and vein. Helena tensed. “Dor?”
“I’m fine,” he said, though his voice was tight. The red energy reached the black veins of the curse. And something unexpected happened. The darkness recoiled. Not vanished. Not destroyed. But pushed back. The black markings retreated, inch by inch, drawing away from his elbow, pulling back toward his shoulder. The pressure in his arm eased, the constant dull ache softening for the first time since the bite. Dorian stared at his arm, stunned. Huh, he thought. Maybe I can beat back the curse with lifeforce. He rose to his feet and opened his stat screen, movements practiced now, automatic.
[STAT ALLOCATION AVAILABLE]
LEVELS GAINED: 4
TOTAL POINTS: 20
He didn’t hesitate. Agility first. Speed had saved his life more times than he could count. Then Strength. To hit harder. To end fights faster. To make sure there were fewer chances for the blade to turn on him instead. Points flowed. Numbers climbed. The System confirmed the changes with silent efficiency. Around him, the others did the same. Helena focused on Intelligence and Wisdom, jaw set in determination. Lena poured points into Intelligence and Vitality, hands still shaking but eyes sharper now.
Evan split his between Strength and Vitality, rolling his shoulders as if already testing the difference. Wilhelm stood apart, calm as ever, allocating his own gains with a measured expression that gave nothing away. When it was done, the courtyard felt different. Not safer, but sharper. Dorian closed his stat screen and looked at the forest beyond the campus, dark and dense, trees packed so tightly they swallowed light whole. “The woods are next,” he said. No one argued and they began to move towards them when a voice called out. “Dorian!?” The voice came from the side. Dorian turned, eyes widening in genuine relief. Wilhelm Moore stood near the edge of the building, unharmed, coat stained but intact. He lifted a hand in a small wave. “Professor,” Dorian said, breath easing. “You made it.” “Barely,” Wilhelm replied calmly. “I hear you’re heading into the woods.”
“We are,” Dorian said. “If you want to come, we’ve got room.” Wilhelm smiled faintly. “I’d appreciate that.” Helena leaned in and whispered, “Who is that?” Dorian grimaced awkwardly. “Uh. He used to be my therapist.” Evan and Lena exchanged a look. Then Evan shrugged. “Hey. If he kept you sane, he’s probably useful.” Wilhelm’s smile lingered just a second too long. As the last System notifications faded and the courtyard settled into a tense, waiting quiet, Dorian glanced toward Wilhelm. “Hey,” he said. “What class did you pick?” Wilhelm adjusted the cuffs of his coat, expression composed as ever. “Summoner.” Helena’s brow furrowed slightly. “Summoner?”
“Yes,” Wilhelm replied calmly. “I can call my familiars quickly. They won’t be flashy, but they’re reliable. Don’t worry if I hang back during the opening moments of a fight.” Dorian nodded. That tracked. Wilhelm had never been the type to rush in. Wilhelm’s gaze shifted to him, softer now. “How have you been, Dorian?” The question landed heavier than it sounded. “I’ve been… surviving,” Dorian said after a beat. Wilhelm smiled faintly, as if that answer confirmed something he already knew.
His eyes moved to Helena. “And I assume this is your girlfriend?” Dorian scratched the back of his neck, a rare flicker of awkwardness breaking through his usual composure. “Yeah. This is Helena.” Helena stepped closer and extended her hand as they started walking toward the edge of the courtyard. “It’s nice to finally meet you. Dorian’s told me about you.” Wilhelm shook her hand firmly, his grip professional, his smile polite. “Likewise. I’m glad he’s not alone.” Evan jogged up beside them, still rolling his shoulders as if working out lingering stiffness. “Evan,” he said. “Resident punch enthusiast.”
“Lena,” Lena added from his other side. “Fire Arcanist.” Wilhelm inclined his head to both of them. “A pleasure.” He walked with them for several steps in silence, eyes scanning the treeline ahead. Then he asked, casually, “So who’s leading your party? I assume Evan?” Evan burst out laughing so hard he had to bend at the waist. “Oh man. That’s good.” Helena glanced at Wilhelm, amused. “Why would you assume it’s him?” Wilhelm looked genuinely curious. “Physical presence. Confidence. Striker class.” Dorian cleared his throat. “It’s actually me.” Wilhelm stopped walking. He turned slowly, surprise flickering across his face before smoothing into something thoughtful. “Really.” Dorian met his gaze, steady. “Yeah.” For a moment, Wilhelm simply studied him. Then he nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. “You’ve come a long way,” he said. “You used to avoid attention whenever possible. You preferred to disappear into the background.”
“Didn’t have much choice back then,” Dorian replied quietly. “No,” Wilhelm agreed. “You didn’t.” He looked ahead again, toward the forest where the shadows thickened unnaturally between the trees. “Fair enough,” he said. “Leader, then.” Dorian felt something tighten in his chest at the word. He nodded once.
Wilhelm gestured toward the looming treeline. “So,” he said calmly, “are you ready to venture into the unknown forest?” Dorian glanced at Helena, at Evan and Lena, at the dark path waiting for them beyond the campus. He felt the weight of the Fang at his side, the pulse of the curse beneath his skin, the quiet pressure of eyes watching from somewhere far above. Must be the system, who the fuck controls this? He thought. “Yeah,” he said. “Let’s go.”