Chương 127: B2 Chapter 32 - Log Off Button

Art Of Steel had an estimated two more hours before it was downloaded. That was too little to achieve anything substantial in Wonderwind, so I defaulted to exploring more of the map again—though this time, I spent some time fighting monsters with my mythic sickle equipped.

The most common enemies were the Mineral Extractors, who I skipped, not because I couldn't beat them, but because killing them took too much time due to their large health pools, and dodging their sluggish pickaxe swings didn't really improve any of my skills. The spear-wielding guardsmen, though, were much more interesting. Shaltar's guardsmen had now been renamed to just Guards Of Aetherdale. A lot of them still patrolled the outskirts of the castle, and their levels were well into the four hundreds.

I found an isolated guard, level 427, with horns proudly poking out of his bulky head, and approached him. The guard's name was orange. Attacking him could probably screw up some quests including the city. Not that I was known for questing either way. I threw my dagger into the demon's chest, and his name turned red right away. His head snapped in my direction, eyes enraged. Now, how will you compare to diamond players in Art Of Steel? He bolted into a run.

My muscles tensed from the sheer speed of his approach, adrenaline pumping in preparation of a serious fight. This would be my first time dueling one of the guardsmen without support or a cheese spot. His spear practically flew at me with the first stab. A sound effect of air being whipped came with it. I just barely dodged out of the way, and only because his footwork was predictable. The next superhuman stab came, and I was too slow to dodge. Had this been Art Of Steel, I would have lost the fight right there.

I [Shadow Dashed] backward, resetting the exchange. It ran after me, but it wasn't quite fast enough to outrun me if I included my dash. I could reliably escape from it with [Shadow Dash], or reset aggro if I ran far enough. Dealing damage would be the hard part. I had a feeling this would end up being much harder than any fight in Art Of Steel so far. I ran from it until my dash was ready. I then faced it once more, though I was quickly overpowered by the absolutely ridiculous speed of this monster's stabs.

I dashed back, resetting the exchange mere moments before taking a spear to my chest. That repeated a few more times, with me just studying it for any possible weaknesses. The guard wasn't necessarily practiced—the average opponent in Steel fought in better stances. The demon was just way too fucking fast to dodge despite being predictable. Wonderwind was, by design, a much faster game than real world combat.

While Art Of Steel was methodical and calculated, one good hit leading to an enemy dying, Wonderwind could often turn to brawls. The intended way to beat this guardsman was to have a tank player trading hits with it, or perhaps a lot of utility to pin down its weapon. Maybe even just ranged weapons to not have to exchange hits with it at all. As an assassin, I had plenty of afterimage spells to use, and of course [Shadow Dash]. Fighting it with just a sickle and dagger without skills or spells was idiotic.

This just wasn't the way the game was supposed to be played. But if I could pull it off, that could be really good for practice. It's a monster. It has a pattern for its attacks. Which ones are dodgeable? The straight thrusts were almost impossible. I could dodge one, and with some effort, the follow-up was doable, but the rampant attacks kept coming, and my side-steps were far slower than its attacks. One thing I noticed was that the demon kept overextending.

He definitely didn't fight at the optimal range of his spear like humans. His speed made it scary to slip in for hits, but if I could get in… I'd need to risk it. My only way to win was to punish overextension. The demon thrust his spear. I side-stepped and dove in, simultaneously pushing the spear aside with my sickle, intercepting recovery. With the demon overextended, the tip of the spear well past my waist, having missed, even its superhuman speed left me with an opportunity. I had a free angle to hit it.

It grimaced down at me, and I felt a chill as the guardsman headbutted my dagger with force. The tip of The Immortal collided with his forehead. A crack came, and pain shot through my wrist. The demon's forehead was like a solid wall. [Item The Immortal has lost over half of its durability in one blow. The item has been rendered unusable. Bring it to a blacksmith for repair.] Holy fuck! I thought and [Shadow Dashed] back right away. I didn't re-engage, choosing to run until its aggro was reset.

That was easy enough. I caught my breath in a quiet spot, biting my lip. Well… That was interesting. I just got rammed. My dagger was literally weaker than the demon's head. This was another problem I had in Wonderwind right now. My build just wasn't very good. The Immortal was losing its effectiveness by the day. It was just an epic item with low attack force, and blocking was becoming increasingly harder with my lacking defense stat. The sickle was actually quite good.

Being a mythic item, it naturally did enough damage to harm monsters here. It could have definitely withheld the demon's forehead. But the same problem persisted. A sickle was best used as a tool for utility. Offensively, the sickle was clumsy at best. I sighed. My build just wasn't good. The more I used it, the more I was coming to that conclusion. I felt like a lego tower of unevenly stacked, different colored blocks. I had a few things going here and there, but nothing fit together well.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Is it time to let The Immortal go? I wondered. Maybe. Maybe not. The item could still be really good for certain matchups. At least, I shouldn't sell it. But something needed to change. I'd felt way more comfortable with every other build I'd used prior to this one, including my old Vital Strike build. That wasn't a good sign, considering I used to rock uncommon gear back then.

Not much to do other than stare at the auction, I guess… I left the problem aside for now. I still needed practice and way more practice. I headed out to repair my dagger and continued exploring the map until Art Of Steel downloaded.

Diamond Expert, it turned out, was the rank where I finally started to struggle. Matches weren't instant wins anymore. Whether my opponents fought with a sword or a spear, I had to really struggle for each and every win. Losses were still rare, but my win rate dropped to 89%, then 87% as I climbed from the lower half of diamond to the upper levels, closer to Master Elite. The sickle and dagger felt surprisingly viable, but I could slowly feel their shortcomings.

Defensive opponents were especially nightmarish to deal with. I needed a swordsman to overextend so that I could slip into their range. I liked to bait and feint opponents to prompt them into that mistake, but some opponents stayed defensive no matter what, not budging. I'm talking about fuckers like this guy in front of me: Simon Gamble. Despite his name, the guy was the most disciplined, most defensive fighter I'd ever faced, who took absolutely zero risks. His stance didn't have any holes to break through.

He didn't react to feints unless I overcommitted myself, which would have just gotten me killed. He inched closer to me ever so slowly, pushing me to the corner of the arena, where I'd be forced to make a reckless move to gain space. If this was Wonderwind, your strategy would be useless, Mr. Gamble, I thought. Veyra would have blasted him with spells to force an opening into his defences. With my sickle and dagger, I wasn't really sure what I was supposed to do.

I poked around him for opportunities for nearly twenty minutes, until I grew sick and forced my way in recklessly. I dodged past his first swing to land a hit of my own, but his follow-up killed me right after. With both of us dead, the match ended in a draw, neither gaining any points. That was twenty minutes wasted for us both. Maybe that's a good time for a break… I thought. I checked the time, and flinched when I realized I'd spent over seven hours straight in VR. Time really flied.

The clock was only seven-thirty PM, still. That meant Veyra's evening assistant would be coming in thirty minutes. She'd be awake then. Playing next to someone really is the best, I thought as I logged off to meet her once again.

Veyra stared at the log off button in VR, afraid to click it. Practice had felt incredible. Joining FireBrand turned out to be an awesome decision for progress. She'd been afraid of slowing herself down while sharing her secrets to FireBrand, but that wasn't true at all. Dual-casting was essentially a new concept. Developing it was much easier with another person. Online, she'd felt incredible. She couldn't wait to meet Aiden in two weeks to show off progress. Except, she'd be meeting Aiden now.

Not as a time mage, but as a cripple who could have very well pissed herself while she'd been in VR. This is exactly why I wanted to only date online… she thought. Having her real body next to someone was the most anxiety-inducing thing imaginable. She breathed in, gathering the courage to log off. Please no pee in my game pod, and please don't puke on top of him today. She clicked the button. The feeling was just as awful as always. Instantly, her control over her legs disappeared.

Wonderwind's beautiful landscape dimmed black, replaced by her apartment of dizzying perspectives. She blinked her eyes back to reality and quickly scanned the place to see if Aiden was awake. He was sitting on the couch, looking at his phone. No accidents today, she thought, relieved. She breathed in and out, testing whether she was about to puke. There was a light bad taste in her mouth. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She wouldn't want to eat right now, and she didn't really want to be around any people, but perhaps she could manage. Good enough. It could have been so much worse. She pushed the door of her pod open and quietly said, "Hello…" Aiden's face immediately lit up. He stood from the couch. For a while, he just grinned at her, until he asked, "Had a good session?"

"Yeah, I guess," she said.

"It was nice. Uh, sorry… I'm not really used to waking up to someone being inside my apartment." He laughed. Veyra really couldn't understand how his grin was so wide. He asked, "Should I lift you out?"

"Sure." She looked away, taking a few more breaths to make sure she wouldn't puke. Aiden wasn't quite as good at lifting her as most of her assistants were, but after showing him the proper technique, she was lifted up smoothly enough.

"The couch, please," Veyra said. She could wait there until Aree came to take her to the bathroom. Aiden sat right next to her.

"It might be sweaty after my, uh, seven hour session lying down."

"That's fine," Veyra said.

"It's an old couch." Despite seven hours in VR, Aiden was tenfold more energetic than Veyra could ever be. He showed her something on his phone.

"Look, these idiots on the forums are tracking my win rate in Steel," he said.

"They're saying I'm no match for Julius Fischer, which is probably true. He apparently got to Master Elite with a one hundred percent win rate. My ninety percent is apparently garbage. Nevermind the fact that it's my first time playing, and I'm fighting with what they say is a troll build." She smiled vaguely, though a headache quickly forced that away. Maybe she was feeling sick today as well… Goddammit, goddammit, goddammit… Why am I like this? Why can't I just be healthy?

Aiden kept talking, but she couldn't keep up. She was forced to interrupt.

"Sorry, can we be quieter? I'm a bit dizzy."

"Oh... Sorry. Do you need something?" She shook her head.

"Just bring me a pillow. I'll lie down."

"You can use my shoulder or lap if you want." Her head bobbed up a little. How do you just say things like that out of nowhere!? Getting flustered, as dumb as it sounded, could help with dizziness. She'd noticed that at Worlds. The butterflies in her stomach were often way stronger of a feeling than dizziness. A stomach-ache wouldn't be cured, of course, but maybe this could help.

"Fine," she said.

"As long as you stay still." She leaned to the side, her head on his shoulder. It helped… a little. She still stared at a point in her wall, trying not to be dizzy, but at least she had a comfortable pillow. Having a boyfriend was just… indescribable. These kinds of feelings were something she only dreamed of to make the nights feel a little less lonely. How lucky was she to actually be in this position right now?

"Aiden…" she began.

"Yeah?" The words got caught in her mouth. Instead, she said, "Sorry. I think I might be too sick to go on a date today as well."

"I'm fine just staying here," Aiden said.

"Are you too sick for some cuddles?"

"Aree is getting here in like fifteen minutes…" He laughed.

"I'll take that as a negative." I have to show him, Veyra thought. Next time my body decides to die, I'll have to let him watch. He needs to know who he's dating. She pulled closer with her right hand, sliding down from his shoulder, closer to his chest. She breathed in, this time to keep herself from getting teary. No, she couldn't risk it. How did it end up last time? She could still remember Vasili's face from when they met in real life for the first time. She couldn't risk it again. Aiden wasn't her assistant.

There was no need to turn him into that. Partners were supposed to be equals. Aiden grabbed her to a hug with his head resting on her hair. The most comfortable position she'd been in since that one night in Worlds. Yet the anxiety had never calmed down. She couldn't bring herself to ask the question she'd actually wanted to. Would you still be my boyfriend if you knew the doctors think I'll be lucky to see my forties?