Dungeon Sniper

At the absence of moon and stars, the Divis River glimmered with the lights from New Deltaris. I stared at it in the dark outside the Eastern Camp, alone, thinking, and frustrated. With a sigh, I took out the exquisite Orcish dagger-sword and held it firmly in my hand.

"Mataki, talk to me."

[Yes, young hero.]

"You knew it was going to be like this."

Mataki did not answer right away.

"You knew what it took to get to the next Level. You knew all about Colosseum Ultimatum," I pressed.

[And you are my best hope still.]

I cursed and let out an antsy grunt.

"You could have given me a heads-up. Before I got into this mess."

[What difference would it have made?]

"Geez, I don't know, could I have possibly stopped Elysia from entering? Run away from all this?"

Before I knew about the Gate, my focus was to do my best to prevent Elysia from dying. That priority still had not changed.

But now that I learned death is not an accident, but a goal in this twisted tournament, things looked gloomier.

[You can still run. But to where? Level One is a small world, and Colosseum Ultimatum is the biggest festival it has seen. You will be trapped here forever, with no access and right to a decent living. Your Elf companion surely would not mind that, no? To me, she seemed proud even for the normally haughty Elves.]

"Really? You're dissing the girl I love when all it takes for me to shut you up is let you sink into the bottom of this river?"

[If you wished to get rid of me, you would have done so a long time ago. You need me as much as I need you, young hero. The last thing you want to do at this point is to deplete your resources, any and all, before a task with a layered agenda of multiple goals.]

"Damn it, why can't you be just like any other Goblins and be dumb for a second instead of talking like... like how you talk!"

It was like having two Alstairs around me. Seriously. And speaking of Alstair, he had not given me his usual outburst of blabbering hints since the interracial meeting at the North Deltan City Hall. Some big help he was.

[I would love to tell you how intelligent we Goblins were before the 'Exchange,' but it seems I owe you an apology first.]

"You eat Humans for snack. Stop being so f.u.c.k.i.n.g polite, damn you!"

[As to why I did not inform you about Colosseum Ultimatum prior to your actual learning, the event has been canceled the past decade, let alone 'effective' for the last five.]

"What do you mean 'effective?'"

[Colosseum Ultimatum was a name-only ceremony because the tournament had not yielded the 'true champion' for a while now.]

"And you think I'm that 'true champion?'"

[That is my hope, and only if you prevail against the five other champions.]

"What makes you think that? That I'm the 'one'?"

[Because he Humans finally have a competitive champion of their own. Ever since your hero left, the Humans have been on the verge of extinction, let alone a fair chance to fight against the stronger, blessed champions of the other races. But I need not remind you of your people's own suffering. You have witnessed plenty yourself.]

That made sense. In other words, I was not Mataki's hope only. I was the hope of Humans, so to say.

"That's a lot of pressure, you know."

[Consider it a better alternative to what I was going to suggest you do if Colosseum Ultimatum were canceled for yet another year.]

"Yeah? What were you going to suggest?"

Mataki fell silent, more broodingly this time. The blade even quivered a little.

[I was going to ask you to go on a hunt. For a chance to open the Gate... albeit unconventionally.]

"Hunt what? A giant bird to carry me across?" I scoffed.

"Not a bird, but an ant. An ant queen."

I frowned, only to gape a second later and realize to what—no, to whom Mataki was referring.

"I mean, are you sure that would work?"

Mataki took some time to respond, sounding sadder than ever.

[Even if I ended up stuck in this Level, perishing far away from home, at least killing her would give both of us the inner peace we deserved for decades now.]

By 'us,' I knew he did not mean him and me.

.

.

.

I woke up the next morning and found Baraka standing outside my tent, fully armed and ready.

"Training starts right away."

"But what about breakfast?" I g.r.o.a.n.e.d.

"You land me a hit, on any part of the body, you eat. If not, you starve."

"Yeah? Might as well sleep in and wait for lunch."

"You starve as long as you remain pathetically skilled, melee-wise."

"That's too harsh, don't you think?"

"Which part? That you are pathetic or I am making you starve as a part of the training?"

"Uh, both?"

"Follow me, Beta. You have much to learn."

Baraka led me to the spacious training ground next to the tents.

"Right, hear me out, Baraka. I don't think this is going to work."

"You dare question my combat pedagogy?"

"Wow you speak weird. No, I don't mean to disrespect you, but I'm just saying, everyone's different, and I just happen to suck at close-range fighting."

"Such an attitude is the primary reason for your 's.u.c.k.i.n.g,' Beta."

"I'm not going to deny that, and I'm going to take that cool. Like an a.d.u.l.t."

"Take it like a student."

"No. Look, B, you're good at your things, and I'm good at mine. Can't you see that?"

"I am aware you prefer the ranged attack options to those of the melee," the Orc narrowed his eyes domineeringly.

"Exactly. So I was thinking maybe if I practiced on my own, you know, geared more toward my strengths—"

"No," said Baraka flatly.

"Why not?"

"Because you are to prepare for the tournament, not for some hunting in the wild."

"You're not allowed to use bows or crossbows in the tournament?"

"You are allowed, at the expense of your own death. Only a fool would choose such weapons in the arena-style combat. The contestants bout within an open, clear space. Fairly spacious, but no cover, no vantage, no hindrance to prevent closing the distance between the two. Do you understand what I am trying to say here?"

What Baraka said made every sense. But I was not going to give up easily.

"There's no way I'm going to be a remotely competitive melee fighter in less than two weeks. I still think I should stick to what I do best."

"Fine. It has been a p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e knowing you, Beta. I will see at your funeral."

"I wasn't saying that you should give up on me!"

"Beta, I like you. And I want to and will help you survive Colosseum Ultimatum."

"Win. You mean win. And save Elysia."

"One step at a time. First, survive. Then we can dream about other things."

"Are all Orcs condescending like you, or is just you?"

"Orcs are strict but fair, and we take pity on the lesser privileged, weaker, and uglier races."

"There. Condescending again."

Baraka sat down on the ground and advised that I did the same. I sat facing him, and he took out a dagger and began to draw on the dirt between us.

"Perhaps a diagram may help you understand why opting for a ranged attack will be your suicide at the arena. Here is the circular platform on which the two champions will fight. About twice the size of the training ground on which we are sitting. Neither too big nor too small."

"I don't know, if you run around and shoot arrows—"

Baraka shook his head sternly.

"The other champions are aware of your predilection with bows. Expect them to be shielded from projectile damage once they learn they will face you."

"Speaking of other champions, who else is participating? And when do I get to know who I'm going to be fighting against?"

"I only know my race's champion because she has been the designated champion during the moratorium. There will be rumors regarding others, but we will have to wait. Though, that is not the same with others. They all already know about you, Beta."

"What? That sounds unfair."

"Your participation had to be announced to recommence the colosseum. Moreover, you have quite made your name with the Fall of Deltaris."

I nodded grudgingly. Since when were things ever going my way, right?

Baraka was staring at me interestingly until I shot back a puzzled look.

"You finally sound as if you are ready to contest. I, and others, feared that you would choose to run away."

"I'm still tempted, so don't push me around too much."

"I understand our honor and tradition do not mean much to you, Beta, and I have a feeling you are doing this only to protect Elysia, and as her longtime colleague, I applaud your decision."

"Yeah, well, I still don't know how I'm going to protect Elysia. Unless I face her in the first round and eliminate her, relatively safe and sound."

"Yes, that is probably the only way to protect her from the more conservative traditionalists who would kill everyone in the hope of opening the Gate once again."

I had not told anyone other than Mataki that I had a mission to open the Gate and keep traveling farther up. Or down. I was not sure which direction I was heading.

Truth be told, I was getting a little too cozy down here, at Level One. I was infatuated with a beautiful Elfina. I was around friends who liked me. Well, most of them. I was being hailed as the savior of the Humankind. I bumped and made mistakes along the way, but I was here, in comfort and in company.

Did I really have to make the next step? To keep doing a dubious job of 'beta testing' with no chaperone in sight and no report to turn in? Oh, and I was not being paid either.

If I was not having an identity crisis right after being poisoned to death and kicked out of an office following a quick, confusing interview, then I was having one now.

The Gate. The tradition. Peace. War. Death. Apocalypse. I could literally care less about any of that if I chose to.

I crawled out of the reverie and faced the formidable face of the only Orc friend I had. He was staring at me patiently, as if allowing me to think over a lot of things, and I did.

"What about you, Baraka? Wouldn't you say you're a conservative traditionalist as well?" I asked, catching up on the last words of the intermittent conversation.

Baraka grinned, which I had grew accustomed to recognize as a hearty smile rather than a belligerent grimace, and opened his tusk-protruding mouth.

"Traditions are valuable. But 'friends' are invaluable."

Simple, but sincere. And that helped me collect my mind for good.

I got up from the ground, with Baraka slowly rising along.

"I don't need your melee combat lesson, B. But I do need your help."

"Anything for my weaker, uglier friend."

Totally uncalled for, but it was not as if I had the courage to call him ugly. I guessed I just had to respect different standards and perspectives, which was a very m.a.t.u.r.e response on my part. Name calling, what were we, twelve? Besides, I might not be Elf-level handsome, but I was definitely not ugly. I was perfectly average, thank you very much.

"Right. First, we eat something for breakfast."

"... Are you playing tricks on me?" Baraka's eyebrow twitched threateningly.

"We've gotta fuel up before we venture into the woods."

"The woods? Why?" asked Baraka suspiciously, still thinking I was tricking him to renege on the no-eating-until-combat-lesson rule. Well, I would not call it a trick. More like a... corollary? And yes, I was starving at the time.

"I want you to tell me every 'animal' you know that lives in the forest. You've hunted a lot there, right?"

Baraka blinked and nodded hesitantly for a second, but the sharp Orc scout realized my intent almost instantly and grinned approvingly.

"It's shopping time, B," I smiled back.