World: MSS - Loading...

  In MSS, it’s hard to be consistent.

  Why? Because a lot of things are dependent on luck.

  The type of monsters you encounter determine your Cores. It’s not like you can just skip monsters and wait for the right one to appear; in the early game, you take what you can get. Otherwise, the next monster you encounter might just wipe you out. It’s the same for party composition. Each time you play the game, the world’s characters are randomly generated. The only ones who stay the same are the bosses and really important NPCs, like Kings and Leaders.

  Cores, party composition, loot and even traits –stats are a variable when you play too. For example, if you play a beastman, you might get better hearing than smell or vice versa. The same can be said for orcs with strength or speed, and dozens more. Add in to the fact that the quests are completely dependent on timing, NPC availability, monster encounters and the level of completion throws in another wrench to the rewards you could get.

  Then there’s the Starting Scene. It could be anything. Son of a knight, a farmer or one of the worst starts possible: Slave.

  All those are factors that you have to account for when starting a new playthrough in MSS. It’s like you’re playing a new game each and every time. The mechanics might be the same, but everything is completely different.

  Then there’s the abysmal level difficulty which costs players hundreds of dollars of keyboards, mouse and monitors every year.

  One starts to get the picture for why this game is near impossible to beat.

  But I never gave up. I spent nights outlining notes on fields; grassy plains, caverns, forests, jungles, deserts. I drew flowcharts on which monsters to hunt depending on which race you started with. Whether to go DPS, Tank, Support and how to go about recruiting your party members. Then depending on your party members, how to start about farming for Cores –which builds might be viable in your part of the map and recruiting Black Smiths, Merchants, Jewelers and the like.

  And most importantly of all, how to start over in the case of a TPK.

  Because in MSS, as long as your main character is alive, the game goes on.

  You sacrifice your hard-earned compatriots, those who risked life and death alongside you. You turn tail, ordering the NPCs to hold the line. You turn your back on them and live to see another day. Then you start over. Recruit more party members. Do more quests. Upgrade items and their respective builds. Until you have a party that’s just as strong or even stronger than the one you had before.

  That’s what a party is –just fodder to keep your main character alive.

  Because as long as you, the player, is in control; all the randomness isn’t so random anymore. Like I said, you know the best spots to hunt. You know which builds are viable. You decrease the chaos of MSS by standardizing all the Cores, Items into a select few which are central to beating the game. To beat the bosses, get fear and reach the final stage; where grade-S Dragons fly and grade-SSS monsters lurk. You increase your reputation gauge until you command an army –your own clan– and go on the hunt.

  That’s all it is. The NPCS are just that. Just… fodder. Nobodies. Nameless characters that can be simplified down into numbers –how much damage they can deal, how much damage they can tank and how many different support abilities and spells they can use.

  But now they had names.

  Skaris Deepeater, hailing from the country of Beastman –Zimmskar. He told me of his childhood, living amongst the other lizardfolk in the Swamp. Those whose scales weren’t the angry red of his Clan. But the blue of the Deepeye clan, belonging to their warriors who walked under the canopy shades. The green scales of the Deepscale clan, rumored to be descended from a lizard beastman who could withstand dragon-fire.

  He told me of his brothers. His family and most importantly, his wishes to return to them one day. Skaris wanted to return and tell them that he was OK; that he had survived. He wanted to introduce me as his Shield Brother, that thanks to me, he now walked the path he did. One of flame and destruction.

  Kyrian Tricilan, the wayward mage from the human king which lay to the North: Turina. Once a dog to the Akka Xaluds, one of the Great Families. A talented noble Mage who graduated with top marks. Yet, despite all those; according to Turina Law, he was a bastard. Still, he was a successful adventure in his own right. Bastard he was, he had blue blood running through him. And like all nobles, he had the looks to set him apart from those of lowly stations like the rest of us.

  Yet… when he thought no one could hear, he still wept. More than once, I heard him cry softly in his bedrolls.

  None of us spoke of it. We all knew why. He deserved that much.

  And until we went to Turina, not a single one of us would say a word. Not one. Because when the time came, the anger of this party would explode like a volcano –incinerating all those who had wronged the young mage.

  Then there was Aurora Candrian Vetilian. Another bastard, but she wasn’t just any bastard. She was from the Great House of Vetilius. Talented beyond doubt. The most likely the best Shielder of her generation, if rumors were to be believed.

  But the bastard name would follow her everywhere. She’d never be allowed to learn [Aura], the human racial trait which made them what they were. She’d never be able to compete with the elite of other races without her [Aura]. She’d never be a knight. Never measuring up against the Orc Berserkers nor the Beastman Walkers.

  Then Stole, probably the most talented beastman –no, adventurer– I’d ever seen; both inside the MSS Game and the MSS World.

  Destined to be the ‘Shadow’ to her sister, a Kagura. Shadows are exactly what it implies. They have no identity, they have no will. They stick to the Kagura, Oung’s Chosen, like their namesake; their shadow. Protecting the Kagura from harm, eliminating threats and always always being next to them.

  Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

  No choice. No future. No possibilities.

  But that wasn’t all.

  There were others that I could call friend.

  Doror Stonehammer the Dwarven Master Smith. Somehow he’d pledged himself to my cause, or my wellbeing. To him, they were synonymous. When I glanced at him looking at me the other day, those were the eyes of a man willing to die. On earth, I’d never have recognized such a look. But here… here, it was all too common.

  Because he wasn’t the only one who looked at me in such a way.

  The orcs who were back in Jayu, awaiting my return. Dibolot Garcia Aedusaus, an elderly elven mage whom I’d promised that I’d do my best to find out what happened to his father, a Player from Earth. My Sword Master, Arrosh Bloodedge; the last disciple of the Sword Saint and the one who set me on the Quest for becoming the next Sword Saint.

  Countless lives touched mine and my hands had touched theirs in return. We weren’t strangers.

  I’d changed their lives and they’d changed mine in return.

  On earth, I didn’t have a lot of friends. That’s a lie. I didn’t have any friends.

  I worked. Came home, played MSS and went to sleep. Day in and day out. On the weekends, I would look at my phone. No messages. No invitation to hang out. No checking up on me. I don’t know when it started, but somewhere along the way, I started being afraid of people.

  Was it my parent’s divorce? Because I’d been bullied in school? Because I lost the one and only girl who loved me?

  No. The reason didn’t matter.

  Not now. Not anymore.

  I wasn’t that person anymore. I wasn’t Han. Not on the outside atleast.

  I was Lock Slaveborn.

  And I had to make sure my party survived. I had to plunge myself into the abyss that was MSS; fighting tooth and nail and make sure that everyone –not just me, everyone– would come out alive at the end of it.

  And for that… we needed one thing. And a lot of it.

  “This sucks.” Stole muttered for the hundredth time. “How come all of Mister’s ideas suck half the time?”

  “You’re insinuating that half the time, they’re good.” Kyrian said dryly. But the good looking Mage’s heart wasn’t in it; somehow at that exact moment the sea breeze blew through his curls making him sound wistful.

  “Sssslaveborn hasssn’t led ussss wrong before.” Skaris joined in.

  “That’s the problem,” Kyirna said, “We end up going along with it.”

  I sighed, listening to the party whine.

  I could understand why.

  We stood on top of the barge, away from the main fleet. This was one of the barges used mostly for storage –spare food, back-up supplies and other equipment that wasn’t required by the main party. That meant that it wasn’t built nearly as nice as the other ones where the main force and the auxiliary adventurers were. No magical enchantment to heat up the deck; meaning that every sea breeze chilled us to the bone like it was mid-winter despite the afternoon sun.

  No adventurers meant no torch stands. Meaning Skaris, Kyrian and Aurora all had difficulty walking about this place without a torch of their own. Until Kyrian learned how to give everyone a buff that could see in in light darkness, they were all blind. The barge had no staff on it. It didn’t need to. It was magically enchanted to follow in the wake of the main barge, trailing behind the rest of the fleet.

  Cold. Hungry. Wet. In a word, my party was miserable.

  And this would be us for the next week.

  “So, how’d you get Zenom to go along with this?” Kyrian asked.

  I sat on the wooden plank next to Skaris and Aurora. In front of each of us lay huge wooden poles, as thick as our body and almost five times as long. At the end of the sticks were strong wires that hung down the side of the barge and into the watery surface down below.

  We were fishing for monsters.

  “Didn’t take much convincing.” I said truthfully, my eyes glued to the makeshift fishing pole. We had already lost the last two poles due to the monsters snapping up the bait too fast. Once we lost the fishing pole to the ocean, there was no getting back. And one would have to be veritably insane to jump into the ocean in MSS without a Core specialized for ocean combat. “I just told him that we were wasting time on that ship.”

  “You promisssssed we could resssst.” Skaris grumbled.

  I pursed my lips, not deigning the beastman’s complaint with a reply. They all knew why we were doing this and deep down, they agreed with it. Proof of that was right here: they had all decided to be here; suffering alongside me.

  “Things must have changed.” Aurora said in my place. She shot me a tentative look. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Lock?”

  I grunted. “Clover knows about the ships.”

  “What?!” Kyrian yelled.

  “Quiet, you’re sssscaring the fisssssh away.” Skaris snapped.

  Kyrian scowled at the beastman then turned to me. “Lock? What do you mean?”

  “When we were burning the ships, I got into a tussle with Emilian Kojisan.” I thought back to the battle. “She wields some kind of acid. Left burns all over my face. L’teya found me and then…” I shrugged.

  No one said anything at first. They all knew what that meant.

  Clover could get us killed with a word.

  If it came down to it, it’d be my word against hers. If people found out that Skaris and I were responsible for the ships being burnt down, they’d put two and two together. They’d know that I did it to get the dwarves onboard. That would implicate the dwarves too. What were the chances that the dwarves didn’t know what I would do to get them onboard? Or at least suspect it?

  “Did she say anything about it?” Stole asked.

  “I went to see her earlier. To gauge what Oung’s stance might be, especially since Zenom had provided a way out for the parties.” I chewed over the bitter words. “She didn’t take it well.”

  “Sssshe will never take what you ssssay well.” Skaris mumbled.

  I gave him a noncommittal grunt.

  “Mmmm.” Kyrian rubbed his chin, thinking. “So it’s your word against hers. That’s not a bad thing.”

  I frowned at the Mage. “How so?”

  “Well, for one thing; Zenom likes you. He doesn’t like Arione or Clover.”

  “A race thing?” I asked.

  “Maybe. Most likely not.” Kyrian looked to Aurora for confirmation, “It is difficult to imagine the Holy Knight of Turina having a positive outlook on the likes of Arione. Or Clover.”

  “Zenom is a Knight.” Aurora supported Kyrian’s theory with one of her own. “Not just a Knight either. A Holy Knight. Bound by the words of the church, he walked the path of chivalry all his life. He does not just know Honor, but lives it. I cannot imagine him walking alongside Arione. But Mr. Lock on the other hand…” She looked to me. “They are similar in many ways.”

  I scoffed.

  I could see their point of view. But…

  But Zenom and I were too different too. Like they said, he was a Holy Knight. He had social status. Standing. Reputation.

  Me? I was just a Slave turned into an adventurer. Sure, I was powerful. But in MSS, power only got you so far. Unless you had enough power to level an entire country; you were still beholden to its laws. And as strong as I was, I had no illusions about my capabilities. If a country like Turina or Zimmskar really wanted to kill me and sent their best headhunters after me, it wouldn’t even be a fight.

  It’d just be an execution.

  I shook my head. “Keep your eyes on the fishing rods. We’re not going to lose another one.”

  And on cue, one of the fishing rods flew into the air like it had been plucked free from the barge by a giant invisible hand. It sailed through the air effortlessly, shooting towards the sky like a missle.

  “Kyrian!” I cried out.

  The light around Kyrian snapped as all the moisture was sucked out and his hair stood on end; the young mage waved his staff and lightning answered his call. Another wave of his staff and the arrows of lightning sailed through the air towards the fishing rod; the electric current riding through the wood and then the metal wire attached to it.

  Pzzzzzzzttttttt

  There was a splash down below and a horrible bellow that shook the timber of the barge.

  Stole mounted her arbalest. “This is the third one, right? Think this one’ll drop a Core?”

  I nodded. “Pray.” I said simply.

  Because for the next seven days, this was all we were going to do.

  Fight the oceanic monsters of MSS on top of this rickety Barge. Wet, cold and tired.

  The Goal?

  Opening up another Mana Core slot for Kyrian. Two more for Stole. One more Mana Core slot for Kyrian.

  And for Aurora…

  Well, I told her I couldn’t teach her [Aura].

  But that didn’t mean I didn’t know other ways to get it for her.