Chương 8: 7. One of Swords

There were many things that monsters could take from a person. They could take the gear, they could take the prize, when allowed they could even take away one's life. Most of the time they took away a person's will. Sometimes it happened fast, sometimes slowly, but every encounter brought the risk of turning even capable fighters into abject failures. I had seen people turn into husks before my eyes. Some would resort to sex and alcohol between trials in an attempt to hide it.

Others would turn to lethal gambling, hoping that the forced adrenaline rush would blunt the mental pain. I had gone through such a period myself until Avon pulled me out. It's all a trick of the mind, he'd say. When you look at monsters, you think what they'll take from you. Why not turn it around? He was right, of course. There was a lot more that a monster could provide. Gear and weapons were obvious. Kill a strong enough enemy and you were sure to get a good weapon that could be sold or bartered if not needed.

If the monster had a card, there was a one in a hundred chance that you'd get to claim it upon the creature's death. For people with the special Lucky, the odds increased to one in ten. Most importantly of all, every fight against an enemy helped develop a person's skills, establish habits, and create a desire to survive. The goblin I was facing couldn't be called strong by any stretch of the imagination.

Compared to a level one participant, it was a real monster, outmatching the standard person in terms of speed, strength, and reflexes. That only meant that killing it would earn me that much more favor.

"Hey!" I shouted, walking towards the Cadillac.

"I see you." The creature turned its head in my direction. Its eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and bloodlust. Another common goblin charged at me, waving its hands wildly. One clean swing and its head was swiped straight off. For this to work, I had to prove that I was serious. No doubt the goblin blood covering me must have made me look rather pathetic, for the creature laughed as it jumped off the hood of the car.

Holding a machete the length of its arm, the creature swung it around in an obvious attempt to intimidate me. Seriously? I thought. I had seen seventy-year-old men do a better job. Behind me, the screams had sharply decreased. Either half of the group had been killed off, or Cathy and Marcus had done a good job eliminating the lesser goblins. The only thing that mattered was that I didn't sense any other enemies nearby.

"Kashaak!" the goblin snarled. This was always a feint. The overly eager and inexperienced would charge forward head-on, expecting a clash. At the very last moment, the goblin would leap back, then forward, creating enough confusion for a well-timed counterattack. A pity that such an attack only worked if the other side didn't know about it. I tightened my grip and dashed forward, pretending to fall into the goblin's trap. Both of us approached one another. When we were a foot apart, I swung my axe.

The goblin, as expected, leaped back. The head of my weapon missed it by inches, continuing along an arc past it. For a split second, I saw its hideous face twist into a toothy grin. Thinking I was wide open, it hit the ground and then immediately leaped forward. Continuing my strike, I twisted around, making a full three-sixty. My plan was to catch the goblin off guard. Unfortunately, the creature's reaction proved too fast. My axe was blocked by the creature's machete.

The inertia proved strong enough to send him flying a few dozen feet away, though my attack caused minimal harm, if any. Damn it! I gritted my teeth. It would have been nice to land at least one good hit at the start of the fight. That's what fighting a level three felt like. The rewind had made me weak, though not to the point I'd let myself get killed by such a pest. Holding my breath, I took a step in the direction of the creature. The goblin let out a screechy cry, then charged at me once more.

I suspected this would be another feint, though I chose not to take the risk, pulling back. As I did, I glanced over my shoulder. Several of the common goblins had also approached, called by the leader's yell. That was what he was playing at. It was so typical of goblins: they always chose to gang up even against weaker enemies. I pulled further back, then swung the axe, slicing another creature's head off.

The second proved too close for me to copy the approach, so I let go of my weapon and grabbed the knife of the one I had just killed. Before the other one could figure out what had happened, I stabbed it in the throat. Several of my future companions would probably have disapproved. Only amateurs went for the neck. It was far more efficient to go for the heart, but I had never bothered to learn the particulars of goblin anatomy. Losing his minions, the leader thrust his machete at me.

Seeing that I had lost my weapon, he probably saw me as an easy target. I tossed the corpse of the goblin straight at him. The body was cut through without mercy. Annoyed, the goblin leader kicked the corpse off his weapon, then glared at me again.

"Come and get me!" Still gripping the knife, I dashed towards the building beyond the Cadillac. The structure looked like a store of some sort. With luck, I would find adequate weapons there: guns, knives, even a baseball bat would do. One never knew what Harlequin might have left for us. Despite appearances, the buildings rarely were what they seemed. One time he had made sure to remove anything useful from all buildings in a trial, reducing them to empty shells.

Hearing the snarling sounds approach, I looked over my shoulder. The goblin had leaped into the air, holding its weapon with both hands as it flew towards me. You forgot, didn't you? I threw the knife right at it. The weapon struck the goblin's shoulder, sinking deep into its flesh. The creature let out a cry as it fell to the ground a dozen steps away. Finally, one of my attacks had caused serious damage. Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to kill the creature, just momentarily slow it down.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Taking advantage of the situation, I ran towards the glass store door. My lungs felt as if they'd explode, but I persisted on. As the saying went: pain comes and goes, death remains forever. The door happened to be unlocked, which was a huge plus. The negative came inside. As I quickly found out, this wasn't a sports or tool store. All that I could see were shelves of paint cans of various colors.

There wasn't even a brush or ladder I could use.

"Thanks, Harlequin," I muttered beneath my breath. Aware that nothing would be gained if I cursed the situation, I went to the nearest shelf. The paint cans there were the size of small buckets, coming with their own metal handles. Lifting one up, I quickly turned towards the entrance. Glass shattered as the injured goblin leaped in. The wound had made it go berserk—I could tell by its crimson-red eyes. In this state, there was no stopping it.

The creature was prepared to do anything to kill me, even at the expense of its own health and safety. Pushing what was left of my strength, I swung the paint bucket, slamming it into the monster. This time, it didn't have the opportunity to block. I could feel the large tin can make contact, sending the small body into the door frame. This was it. A new wave of adrenaline surged through my body, driving me forward. I swung the paint bucket, slamming it against the goblin's face over and over again.

The creature squealed like a pig, trying to resist the attack. That didn't help. On the fourth hit, it was no longer moving. I kept on going, letting in five more hits until finally forcing myself to stop. The goblin lay there motionless on the floor, its face bashed in. Blood and blue paint were everywhere. I grabbed the machete. At last, I had won myself the first useful weapon. A few seconds later, it turned out that wasn't the only thing I got.

The goblin's corpse spontaneously combusted before my very eyes, disappearing in a puff of green smoke. The One of Swords card was in its place, lying in the middle of a body outline within the splash of paint. A card? I reached out and took it.

"Thanks," I said. A deity definitely had to be involved. During the entire past participation, I had only gotten a card from creatures twice. Getting one now, after my first significant kill, was too convenient to be considered luck or a coincidence. I examined the card. ONE OF SWORDS (MINOR, SWORDS) (Rarity – Common) SKILLS (1/1): 1 POWER THRUST: (sharp weapon required) perform a powerful thrust attack, increasing the damage dealt tenfold. This was the lowest possible card of the Arcana.

That didn't make the advantage it provided less significant. I was very fortunate that the goblin hadn't managed to stab me with any of its attacks. With a ten multiplier, even an otherwise minor wound might turn out lethal. Now, this power was mine. With the fight over, my body acknowledged my victory by giving in. I felt my vision blur as I stumbled onto the floor. No! I tightened my grip around the machete's handle, using it to anchor me to consciousness.

Everything around me kept fading away for a full second, leaving only a small patch of light among the blackness. There it suddenly stopped. A virtual tug-of-war ensued as I remained on the verge of consciousness. Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the darkness retreated. I had returned to my old self; I was lacking breath and my entire body screamed in pain, but at least I could think straight. Outside, a new series of screams filled the air, though this time they weren't human.

The goblin leader's absence had turned the tide, letting Marcus, Cathy, and the rest mow down the superior numbers of the monsters. For over a minute I remained on the floor, waiting for the sounds of fighting to end. Once that happened, I pulled myself up. There was so much I would have given for a nice long rest. Sadly, that wasn't an option. No pain. I took the cup of holding from my inventory. Sensing that I wanted a drink, the object filled to the brim with cool, clear water. I gulped it down in one go, twice.

Only on the third time did I drink slowly like a normal person. So much better! It wasn't even a healing potion, but it invigorated me nonetheless.

"Let's see what you can do," I said, then performed a forward thrust with the goblin machete. The blade pierced through two cans of paint as if they were made of butter. Some would have called the demonstration useless, but I knew that I was being watched. Making flashy use of a card ability would earn me major benefits once the trial was done. By the time I got outside, the fight was already over. The participants didn't seem too happy about it, though.

Shocked by the experience, many stood motionless while their minds tried to reason away what had happened. Nothing in their comfortable existence had prepared them for such a moment. Even now, I remembered my first kill. It had been a dog-like creature determined to gnaw me to death. There was no choice but to kill it, and yet my mind had rebelled at the concept for days. The second kill had been a lot easier.

"You made it," I said as I went up to Marcus. The man was standing calmly, cleaning his dagger with a piece of cloth. It seemed slightly bigger than before, improving halfway to level four.

"Did we lose a lot?"

"Four," he replied without a note of concern.

"Maybe five." I glanced in the direction he was looking. A woman lay on the ground, blood covering the entire left side of her body. She wasn't the only one. Nearly everyone had received some degree of wounds. From what I could make out, only six people had made it out completely unscathed: me, Marcus, Cath, the goth girl, and two others. Carl had been stabbed in the leg, but despite the fuss he was making, it didn't seem particularly serious.

"So, where's the food?" Marcus asked. I was considering what excuse to use when Harlequin's laughter filled the air.

"Congratulations, participants," he said.

"The powers that be were impressed by your performance. Many of you will be receiving special gifts once the trial is over." Many? I didn't doubt that it was a lie. Unless specific numbers were mentioned, promises didn't count for crap. The way things stood, even two people were "over ten percent of the group."

"You've only six days more and you'll be able to collect your prize," he added.

"Six days?!" someone asked in desperation.

"We need food and medicine! How will we survive six days without any?" And water, I mentally added. Don't forget about water.

"Everything you need has been provided to you," Harlequin went on. Anyone could tell from the change in his tone that he relished watching us in our misery.

"The monsters won't attack during the night. During the day you're free to explore the city and use anything you can claim. Or, if you prefer, not to take the risk, you can eat the bodies of those you killed." Instinctively, the people stared at the goblin corpses. The thought of having to eat such wretched creatures was enough to make several people puke.

"Rest assured, none of them will poison you," Harlequin said.

"If you're picky, you can even eat your own. It's only at sunset that you will be attacked. While I'm not normally permitted to provide advice or assistance, the deities have graciously allowed me to share the following words of wisdom: it might be useful to build a barricade before that happens." Disgust quickly turned to panic and depression as people realized they'd have to go through this horror once again. Out of everyone, only the goth girl remained calm.

"Did you know about that?" Cathy approached Marcus and I.

"Sort of," I lied.

"I didn't know it would be seven days." This time I was telling the truth.

"There's no way we'll survive that long," she whispered.

"The way things are, I don't think we'll survive three such attacks." She was both right and wrong. The next attack was going to be devastating. Before that, Harlequin was going to make us an even more distressing offer: choose a person to sacrifice to skip the attack. It was a common trick used in survival trials. Everyone was going to scream and argue about the injustice of it, but in the end, they were going to sacrifice the wounded. It was how the Grand Arcana worked.

"There's another way," I whispered.

"But it's risky, and I'll need your help." I looked at both in turn.

"However, you'll have to trust me."