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Tsaimath
Tsaimath

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Rewrite - Chapter 7

Once again, I was in the grip of vertigo, only this time, it lasted longer. I felt like I was falling, only to realise that I wasn’t just feeling that way. I was falling. Falling, towards a planet, giving me a magnificent view, one that was hard to describe. What had to be massive mountain-ranges looked like tiny molehills, continents appeared to fit into the palm of my hand, oceans, nothing more than puddles. It was awe-inspiring.

But, alas, Gravity had to assert itself and I was going down. Fast, and accelerating.

My perspective gave me a wonderful view of the world of Mundus I was entering, allowing me to realise just how familiar the world seemed to be. Most of the shapes I was able to see looked very familiar, just like they did on Earth. However, the positions had been shifted, I could see that Africa and Eurasia had been separated a bit more, with Africa moving into the Atlantic, greatly changing the shape of the Mediteranian Sea and cutting Eurasia off at the Sinai-Peninsula. There was no need for a Suez-Canal on Mundus, they already had a massive one. The part that was normally Egypt and connected to the Peninsula had been moved to the opposite side of the Strait of Gibraltar, rotating Africa in the process, making Cape Horn point towards Australia. Or where Australia would have been, my perspective didn’t allow me to see whether they had changed things further.

Before I could learn more about the geography, I hit the cloud-cover, getting surrounded by a white mist. The immediate area around me remained as it had been, clear and filled with nice, warm air for me to breathe, but sadly, that didn’t allow me to see further than a meter or two.

Once I left the clouds, I was too low to get a good look at things, merely seeing mountains, an ocean far to the north of me and trees. Lots and lots of trees.

If I had to guess, based on my earlier trajectory, I was moving towards Northern Russia, Siberia to be precise. My musings came to an end, when the trees seemed to nip at my heels only for my movement to suddenly stop. No deceleration, no whiplash, just a sudden stop without any ill-effects. Inertia was likely crying somewhere, alongside Gravity, when my bubble of comfort, along with me, started to gently drift to the snow, popping maybe a meter above ground, depositing me into the snow.

While I would have loved to make a graceful landing, reality was different, I landed in a heap, my Avatar not quite moving how I wanted it to. Pushing myself up, I once again marvelled at the sheer scope of what Pantheon Entertainment had accomplished. The home-environment of the capsule had been one thing, an amazing thing certainly, but this was so much more. A whole new world, to explore and conquer. And I had just taken the first step, at least once I brushed off the snow.

That difficult first task accomplished, I checked what I had on my person. The sturdy set of clothes was obvious and either amazingly insulating or the Cold-Resistance was already paying its dividends. Despite standing in the snow, in a dark, siberian forest, I wasn’t freezing to death, as I likely should. There was a pack strapped to my back, no magical inventory for me and some sort of long knife at my side. Or maybe calling it a short sword was a better name, it had a bit of a cross-guard, though nothing I would want to parry serious attacks with. Note to self, get better gear.

Drawing the sword, I took a close look, trying to figure out what I was looking at. Purely visually, it had maybe thirty centimeters of blade, with a leather-wrapped handle. There were some marks on the blade, likely from the forging-process but I didn’t know enough about that to even begin to understand those. As I was looking, a pair of blue windows suddenly opened, telling me a little more.


Looking at the values, I made another mental note, to find out what those meant. Just from the relations between them, I was guessing that stabbing someone would work better than slashing at them. Strength-Modifier likely had to do with the amount of leverage and strength one could actually use with the weapon, with heavier weapons allowing for more oomph behind the swing with the obvious drawbacks. If I were to swing a sledgehammer, no matter how strong I was, the weight of the weapon would easily disrupt my balance, something not that problematic with the sword in my hand.

Before I could muse deeper on the weapon I had been given, a crunchy sound behind me got my attention, making me whirl around, frantically looking around.

The creature crouching in the snow was some sort of cat, with furry ears, big eyes and very, very large teeth. There was no time to think, my hand gripping the sword tighter with the realisation that I was facing my first enemy. Out of the blue, time slowed down and a blue box appeared to inform me of that fact.

Somehow, that knowledge was not as welcome as the knowledge about the sword, but for now, it was what I had. Focusing on the cat, I tried to trigger the skill, similarly to the way I had inspected the sword earlier and more blue windows appeared, a large one that I ignored and a small one that I didn’t ignore.

Young Lynx, Level 3, 91/91 HP

For a brief moment, my mind flickered back to the character-information I had just looked at moments before. The lynx had more HP than I had and was most in its home environment. My only advantage seemed to be that I had noticed it, maybe as it hadn’t been expecting a sapient when investigating the noise I had made. Sadly, while my mind was racing, trying to come up with a solution for my predicament, the cat seemed to have made up its mind, leaping forward in an attempt to bowl me over. Once on the ground, I would be dead in short order, maybe setting a record for the shortest time between arrival and first death. Again, time slowed down and I was able to read another blue box, getting some more information.

Time continued to flow normally, while I frantically dodged out of the way, trying to avoid such an embarrassing fate. I mostly managed to get out of the way, the lynx merely glancing me, but even that glancing blow was enough to make me stumble while striking out in desperation, trying to get back at it.

A small box, in the corner of my vision, gave me a numerical analysis for my performance, information that was valuable even if the content was disheartening.

In addition, another blue box popped up, only to be mentally dismissed without reading it. Even in Soviet Russia, curiosity was supposed to kill the cat, not the other way around.

After a graceful landing, one that I could only look at in envy after my earlier fall, the lynx had turned and was coming at me again, while I was still off-balance. Without time, I barely managed to get my arm between the lynx and me, before it made us both tumble into the snow, it’s teeth biting into the fabric of my clothing and the flesh beneath.

Time slowed, again, only this time it was due to one of the two skills I had, Bullet Time. Just focusing on it had been enough to activate it, giving me a few moments to think, while the lynx and I were on the way down. Moving my body in the glacial, subjective time was difficult, the physical actions not even remotely on the same level as the mental commands, giving me an odd sense of disconnect, even if the pain in my arm, with the sharp teeth digging into it, gave me a strong reminder of my situation.

My shifting around, managed to make the lynx and me land side by side, instead of it on top of me, allowing me to get my other arm into play, stabbing towards its neck. A little skill, accompanied by a lot of luck, allowed me to get my blade into its neck, its shock-reaction along my own, frantic movement somehow managing to cut down, splattering the snow with hot blood. All of a sudden, the lynx started to thrash around, ripping at my flesh and frantically scrambling with its paws, while I was just holding on for dear life.


The scrambling next to me slowed, just a few seconds after it started, leaving me covered in blood and snow, trying to catch my breath. Another blue window opened, giving me some more information, while I quickly looked at the earlier windows, taking them in.

A quick check on my EXP-Gauge told me that I needed 100 EXP to reach level two so I'd have to kill seven more lynx. Not without some kind of plan, I was aware that killing the lynx had been a combination of a bit of skill and a boatload of sheer blind luck. There was no way in hell I would be able to kill seven more like that.

Standing, and brushing the snow off again, I grimaced when looking at my shredded arm. The pain wasn’t too bad, dull and muted, but I had no desire to find out if there were such things like infections in the game. Given what I had seen so far, I wouldn’t put it past Pantheon Entertainment to put in something like sepsis, killing me in a horribly painful manner.

With the smell of blood thick in the air, I didn’t want to stay on the ground, easy prey for the next curious critter so I picked a tree with low,  easy to climb branches to get a somewhat secure perch. Climbing was relatively easy, even partially shredded my arm worked reasonably well, when I almost fell out of the tree, realising what I was climbing. A Firn-Elf taking refuge in a Fir-Tree. Eh, it was better than a shelf any day of the week.

Once I had found a crook to sit in, I continued my earlier inspection of things I had on hand, starting with my clothes.




Glorious, just five minutes after entering the game, I was wounded and sitting in a tree in Siberia, wearing what amounted to peasant-garb and a bloody dagger.

What a start on my Road to Purgatory. Yet, despite the intensity of it all, I wouldn't want to have it any other way. 


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