Chapter 216: ...Claw's Nest (End)

World: MSS - Loading...

***

“We always… talk about it, you know.  That when the times comes… we’ll be the ones to protect you.”

No.  No.  You stupid fucking idiot.  Just toss me and run.

JUST FUCKING RUN.

Footsteps rushed behind us.

Delas laughing, his laugh bouncing down the perfectly angular halls.

I strained my ears.

Skaris.  Aurora.  Zenom.  Arrosh.  Stole.

Anyone.

Anyone, someone, please.

But all I heard… were the footsteps of Cultists and the three [Players] running after us.

Toying with us.

A minute.  Maybe two.

They were catching up.

Kyrian stopped.  I saw his head swivel, looking for something.  He walked over to a corner and put me down.

“Wait… here.”  He gasped, “I’ll be right back.”

Then the fucking idiot took off his cloak and covered me with it.

So that from the outside, it would look like I was part of the background.

No.  Stop.  I couldn’t see.  I needed to see.  I needed to do something.  

More lightning.  More screams.

More laughing.

Then the undeniable sound of an explosion.

Then…

Nothing.

One minute.

Two minutes.

Nothing.

No.  Someone.  PLEASE.

OUNG, KHAN, NINE, BY THE FUCKING CURSED LIGHT, FLAME AND SHIELD –SOMEONE I KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE, SOMEONE PLEASE JUST FUCKING COME AND GET ME OUT OF THIS–

Footsteps.

A soft hand brushed the cloak back.

A youthful blonde face.

One eye was missing.  Blood poured freely from it, despite keeping it closed.  There was the remains of an arrow in one shoulder.  A long gash close to his neck that, if it was even a centimeter deeper, it could have–

The mage smiled at me.

“The fools.  They collapsed the walls with their explosions.  Come.”

Then he grabbed me, put me in a piggy back again and began to run.

I knew he was lying.

Why else would he run?

And why else… would I hear the sound of running footsteps still chasing after us.

“Just a little more, Lock.”  Kyrian muttered.

He was limping.  Noticeably slower than before.

“You don’t need to worry about anything.  I’ll get us out of this.”

He kept talking.

“Do you remember that soup?  It’s weird… I keep missing that rancid soup we first ate when we got to Jayu.  Do you remember that?”

He should save his breath.  Focus on walking.

He stumbled, then righted himself.

“...Apologies.  I didn’t see that rock.”

He only had one eye.  Of course he wouldn’t see it.

He continued marching, with me on his back.

…A snail’s pace.  I could crawl faster than this.

“I think Skaris is nearby.  I’m sure of it.”

No.  My [Hearing] and [Smell] didn’t pick up anything.

“...I know you can hear me.  Something must be wrong with your body.”

That’s right.  Blame me.  It’s my fault your hurt.  Just go.  Just hate me, curse me and just leave me behind and–

“It’s alright.  You’ve done enough.  Just leave it to me now.”

…

In situations like this, you’re supposed to feel hope.  That something good will happen.

And my stomach continued to spiral deeper down.  Down into  a pit of black sludge.  That foreboding feeling of despair washing over  your skin and you have to press the ESC button, and click ‘PAUSE’ or ‘RESTART’ because–

｢Lock Slaveborn has been [Cursed]!｣

｢Lock Slaveborn has been [Paralyzed]!｣

｢[Paralyzed] worn off by 10%｣

｢[Speech] Stat restored!｣

“...Ky…rian…”

“Lock!”

Finally.

“Lock, you’re alright?”  Kyrian’s voice lit up like a kid who saw a christmas tree.

Painful hope, flaring to life with just my voice.

“Kyrian…”

“Lock, how do you feel?  Everything ok?”

“...me…”

“...What?  I didn’t hear you.  What do you need?”

“...me….”

“A potion?  Give me a second, let me just–”

He set me down and rummaged in his pack.

And I met his eyes.

“Leave… me…”

Please, please, please, please, listen.

The mage’s expression hardened.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”

Then he grabbed me and started trudging along again.

We walked in silence.

No, Kyrian walked.  I was carried.

Useless fucking garbage.  Baggage.  Helpless.  I should be thrown aside.  If I was playing MSS, without hesitation I would throw this fucking helpless bum to the side to be devoured by monsters or [Players].  Who would give a shit about someone like me?

…Kyrian did.

He marched.

One of his feet gave out and I fell off his back.  Without a word, he picked himself up and put me on his back again.  Then he continued… dragging one foot.  The ankle was twisted.  Wrong.  Everything wrong.

We continued.

Until…

Footsteps caught up.

They were still after us.

They closed the distance with impunity.  No pity.  No emotion.

Just apathetic need to fulfill Delas’ orders.

The first of them reached us.

“Lock, bear with me.”

Then Kyrian screamed.

He covered his entire body in mana, converting it to a thin sheet of electricity and with one last burst of energy I didn’t know he had, the fragile mage began to run.

“AAAAAHHHHH!”

It was no where near as glorious as L’teya’s warcry.  Or Skaris’.

…It made me sad.

Kyrian tackled one of the cultists who neared us, tackling him.  The cultist was surprised and fell back, lightning-jitters forcing him to lean against the wall lest his legs give out.  But he was still an [Adventurer] in close combat with a [Mage].  The man reached out and stabbed Kyrian in the shoulder.

Kyrian kept moving.

Again and again, he spun, twisted, elbowed and began to scream and scream and scream.

Arrow.

Poisoned daggers.

Fire…

My comrade’s body began to make sounds.  Sounds that should never come from my comrade.

“...Left… duck… two steps to the right…”  I muttered, trying to do something.

I tried.

Yet… It was too late.

His body began to slow.  His arm was dangling.  My comrade’s arm should never have looked like that.

He screamed so much that his throat went hoarse.  The missing eye was open, a large gaping hole instead of his cerulean eyes which held so much sadness whenever he spoke about his mom.

A dagger came towards us.

But not towards Kyrian.

Towards me.

I said nothing.  If I could take that blow, then it meant one less wound for Kyrian.  A little less pain.  A little less–

Kyrian pivoted at the last second, taking the stab in his collarbone.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”  Kyrian shrieked and mustered the last of his mana, pushing the man away with…

Mana.

Not lightning.

Just a mana-enforced blow.

Kyrian stopped.

His body was no longer covered in electricity.

The cultists made a semi-circle around us.

“...Stay here, Lock.  Give me one second.  I’ll take care of this.”

Then he put me in the corner again.

And he stood against the Cultists.

More of them were coming, streaking out of the shadows.

I couldn’t move.  Not yet.

｢[Paralyzed] worn off by 30%｣

I could move my fingers.  Some feelings had reutnred to my toes.

At this rate…

“Ten minutes….”  I growled.

But Kyrian didn’t hear me.

He went mad.

He took out his staff and engaged the cultists in melee.  He popped open Mana potions, breaking off the cap with his teeth and started slugging them one after another.  If he drank too much, he could get [Mana Drunk].  But Kyrian didn’t care.

He waded into the crowd, swinging his staff and yelling.  Lightning arced from his body.

There’s a reason why Mages don’t like to fight in close-combat.

Many of their spells hurt them.

Charred flesh appears around Kyrian’s fingers.  Bleeding and then cauterizing.  The end-bits looked like barbecue, toughened pieces of meat that were rough gristle like overcooked meat.

I couldn’t move.  

So I counted.

One.

Two.

Thre…

Five…

Six…

Nine…

Twelve..

Grade-9 adventurers.  Maybe some Grade-8 adventurers at best.

But as soon as they were downed, they took out a health potion and drank it.  The pain didn’t seem to bother them.

Kyrian killed maybe two of them.

Nine minutes.

He held them back for nine minutes.

I saw someone stab Kyrian in the stoach.

I felt my body shaking.

Something dripped down my chin.

Blood.

I had clenched my teeth so hard that–

My hand ached.

There was blood pooling in my palms, because my fingernails had dug in.

Blood fell from my nose, from the pressure that built up from holding my breath.

I was going to kill them.

｢[Paralyzed] worn off by 70%｣

–goingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthemgoingtokillthem–

At last, Kyrian fell.

The Cultists watched.

At the last second, Kyrian caught himself and ran over to where I was.

And spread out his arms, in between me and the cultists.

Like some fucking corny, manga character.  This wasn't a webtoon, this wasn’t some webnovel.  This wasn’t a videogame.  He couldn’t–

“You’re not taking him.”  He said like he mattered.  Like he could was strong.  He wasn’t… He wans’t strong.  He… He…

He…

His speech was warbled.  Screwed up from the wounds.  Too much blood.

He was… My comrade was…

My vision began to turn red.

Kyrian began to mutter something.

“...Skaris… where are you… you fucking lizard…”

If this was a manga, Skaris should have popped up from somewhere.

Aurora maybe.  Arrosh even.

Or maybe Freier would magically appear.

Nothing happened.

Kyrian fell to the ground.

And something snapped in my head.

It went ping.

｢[Paralyzed] worn off by 100%｣

…

When I came to…

Nothing was here.

Except me and Kyrian.

Just bits of meat that was once human.

Scattered all around us.

“Kyrian?...”

“...L,Lock?”

“...Let’s go.  We’ll find Freier.  Or maybe it’s faster to rescue Cecilia.  We can go back and–”

“...me…”

“...What?”

“...ve…me…”

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“...Leave… me….”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE SAYING?”

“...I’ll… j,just… slow you…. Down…”

“Fuck that.  FUCK THAT.  What the fuck is WRONG with you?  I’m a FUCKING [PLAYER].  You KNEW THAT.  I DESERVE THIS SHIT THAT’S COMING TO ME.  YOU SHOULD HAVE RAN.  YOU SHOULD HAVE–”

“Not… Player…”  He sputtered.

His next words made something in me break.

“My… best… friend.”

Oh god.

No.

“Kyrian, come on.” 

The Health potions weren’t working.  [Poison], [Burn], [Frostbite], [Acid]--

“L-Lock?”

I tried to lift him up.

“I-I can’t hear you.  A-are you there, Lock?”

No.

“Kyrian, I’m here.”

“Cold…”

“Kyrian, GOD FUCKING DAMN IT.  WHERE IS EVERYONE?  KHAN? OUNG?”

“I…”

“I’LL DO ANYTHING.  MY SOUL.  COREs.  SWORD SAINT.  I’LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT FROM ME.  SO JUST–”

“Mom... I'm sorry. Forgive me.”

And…

And he stopped breathing.

I wish there was a pause button in MSS.

But there isn’t.

And death in MSS…

There’s no spell that can resurrect the dead.  Not truly.

It’s…

Death is game over, you know?

It’s the end.

You get one playthrough.

And… That’s it.

I put my face in my hands.

And I cried.

I cried because of Kyrian Tricilan, the Mage I met in Samak.

Who told me of the unjust death of his mother.

Who was my friend.

Who had a strange taste in soup.

Who was drinking buddies with Skaris.

Who would have made a better scholar than a battle-mage.

I cried.

Because I was a [Player].

And I couldn’t tell him this.

That he too, was my best friend.

…Good bye, Kyrian.

You were my best friend too.