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Revoked Player

"I don't want to die like this..." Rigel's trembling voice because of the mix of emotions that ran through his mind, lying in the middle of a desolate street, his gaze fixed on the ominous creatures soaring through the sky. "My whole life has been a nightmare. It has been relentless, and now, dying like a rat..." he continued, his body trembling from broken limbs as he fought to endure the excruciating pain. As Earth faced an unprecedented cataclysm, overrun by nightmarish creatures, mythical demons, and unending chaos, salvation arrived in the form of the enigmatic [Player System] Selected individuals, known as [Players] were granted the power to confront these monstrous threats. Their journey towards strength began within mysterious towers scattered across the globe, where they endured trials orchestrated by an inscrutable system. However, for Rigel, destiny took a cruel turn as he aspired to become the hero of his own life. The system deemed him unworthy, stripping him of his [Player] status and casting him back to Earth, now a world overrun by monsters. Survival became an unrelenting struggle, and death lurked at every corner. Yet, he clung to life, enduring 5 long years that felt like an eternity. In the end, he couldn't escape death and he was standing in front of the death's door. "If there's anyone... anyone that can hear my pain, please grant me a wish..." Rigel's voice weakened as his eyes started to shut off. "I want the world to feel my pain..." He said as he started to lose consciousness. Suddenly, darkness enveloped him, transporting him to a forbidden and forgotten pocket of reality. "I will grant your wish. I will take you back to where it all began," a soothing woman's voice whispered into Rigel's ear. "But what can you offer in exchange for this wish?" Her words sent shivers down Rigel's spine. "Everything. I will give you everything," Rigel responded, his determination unwavering, even in the face of the unknown abyss. "Rigel Eclair DeMargt. I want your soul and your body..." The woman's voice carried a sinister tone, and Rigel could almost sense the grin on her face. "I will make you invincible, immune to death's touch. In return, the more you faced death, the less of you would remain, yet you would grow stronger," her words were chilling, yet strangely comforting. "I don't care..." Rigel declared with unwavering determination. "Then follow my voice, and you will have your wish granted," The woman's voice was going away from Rigel's ear. Rigel opened his eyes and realized that people were murmuring around him, their gaze fixed on a coffin placed inside a freshly dug grave. "I've returned..." Rigel furrowed his eyebrows as he observed the scene before him—the final resting place of his mother that happened five years ago. "And today is the day everything begins," he looked at the sky as he clenched his fists.

Iqfauli · Fantasie
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170 Chs

Chapter 45: Information.

A month had passed since Rigel devoured the town with flames, and he had been staying low in the village. He took his time to craft and forge his armor piece with the Lindworm's scales. He was far from finishing them, he was done crafting the breastplate and the pauldrons. He was still working on the gauntlets and the vambraces, and next was the fauld piece. He estimated the time to finish all of them would take him another 2 months.

 

"Are you staying up all night here?" A muscular man with tanned skin because he worked in front of the forge every day. His name was Beal, a family man with two children in his early 30s. "Have you eaten? Do you want me to bring something to eat?" He asked.

 

"No, I'm fine. I can go buy something in the market and cook something," Rigel answered as he observed the glowing red hot steel in his hand.

 

Beal still couldn't get used to Rigel holding the glowing red-hot steel with his bare hand. He knew Rigel had strong fire resistance and that he didn't break a sweat by standing near the forging. He also knew that Rigel was a Non-Player because a lot of the villagers were Non-Players as well.

 

Everyone lived in harmony, living a life without conflict, and worked together for each other's happiness. Rigel didn't know how it was possible and how the Player Association didn't know about it. Rigel thought there must be an insider who worked for the Resistance and at the same time held a high position in the Player Association.

 

"Can I have a look?" Beal looked at the vembrace at the table.

 

"Sure, I need you to check it anyway," Rigel nodded as he kept staring at the processed steel.

 

Beal was so excited to check out the vembrace because the breastplate that Rigel made was a masterpiece. He could learn from just observing the finished work, but he wasn't confident that he could copy it.

 

Rigel and Beal worked until evening without anyone disturbing them. After that, Beal went back home first since his work was to make new shovels and forks. He used to make weapons and armor for Players, but he couldn't compete with other blacksmiths who were better and offered a better price than him.

 

"Good enough..." Rigel looked at the base of the gauntlet. He then looked outside and realized it was nighttime already.

 

He decided to visit the pub to ask for any information about the 2nd floor and maybe about the 3rd floor as well. He knew that up to the 9th floor, there were no cities like Alma City because the Player Association made it that way. Since the Player Association held the power over the tower, the Players couldn't do anything.

 

The pub was so lively because there was a bard that came to visit, playing music for everyone. The music was pleasant to the ears and easy to listen to, and he spoke in between melodies, a story or a tale that he heard from Players. It was entertaining and the most important part was sharing the knowledge he knew with everyone.

 

"What can I get you?" A man in his mid-20s with a scar on his forearm looked at Rigel from behind the counter.

 

"Get me a rose wine," Rigel answered as he sat down.

 

"Would you prefer the old ones or the freshly made ones?" The man asked again.

 

Rigel could understand from that question alone whether he wanted to hear old news or recent news. It was so easy to understand, and yet nobody would suspect it was a hidden message.

 

"The fresh one would be nice," Rigel answered as he nodded.

 

"This one was made last week, and the merchant said it was made in Selin Town where the tower is," The man put the bottle in front of Rigel. "Now that I remembered, the winery that made this rose wine had a big problem because of the pest," he added.

 

"Pest?" Rigel didn't understand what that was supposed to mean.

 

"Yes, they can come and go as they please. It's everywhere in the tower," the man nodded as he looked at Rigel. "But this one isn't just a normal pest, it's the one that controls all the pests," he added.

 

Rigel furrowed his eyebrows and seemed to understand what the man was trying to say. He believed the pest that the man meant was Players and the one that the man meant by the one that controlled all the pests was Players from the Association.

 

"Is the pest spreading?" Rigel asked.

 

"I heard they're here for the person who has been exterminating the pests from the 1st floor. But the pest won't be checking this place, so there's nothing to be worried about," the man answered and assured Rigel that he should be fine in the village.

 

"How so?" Rigel looked at the man.

 

"We have pest repellent," the man smiled at Rigel. "The village's chief. You'll understand when you see it with your own eyes," he added.

 

Rigel furrowed and wondered how the village's chief could prevent the Association from going into the village. He heard a lot about the chief, and a few of them were the chief was sick and old, but during his prime, he used to be a Ranker, someone who tried to climb the tower's highest floor and compete with other Players.

 

"I see, what about the 3rd floor? Is the situation the same there?" Rigel asked.

 

"It's the same up to the 9th floor. You don't want to get near them," The man answered. "Maybe we will be fine from the past now, but it won't be long until they're going to make their way in. So, it would be better if you prepare yourself," he pointed out.

 

"I'll leave as soon as I'm done here, don't worry," Rigel responded and nodded with understanding. "Thanks for the wine," he gave a gold coin and left the pub to continue working on his armor.

 

3 months had passed, and Rigel had finished his armor that he worked from nothing. He looked at it and was satisfied with the result, especially how it fits perfectly on his body. It was hard to turn scales into powders because they were extremely resistant to fire. The armor had a very dark red color, and it shone when it was exposed to light.

 

"That armor would be priceless because of how amazing it is. Do you know what kind of stat it gives?" Beal looked at Rigel. "Right, you're a Non-Player, you can't see the effect of the armor," he realized.

 

"It doesn't matter. It's not like I'm doing it for the stat," Rigel responded as he removed the armor from his body. "Thank you, for letting me borrow your workshop, Beal."

 

"No, it should be me thanking you because I learned a lot from you. It was a pleasure to have you here, and because of you, I think I got my passion back and will try to become a blacksmith again," Beal said and he looked inspired.

 

Rigel was about to put the armor on the table, but then he heard the neighing of horses on the other side of the street. He took a peek and saw people riding horses, waiting in front of a house that belonged to the village chief. People were talking with those people on horses, and they seemed a bit annoyed by their presence.

 

"You should leave. I'll try to distract them if they come here," Beal said as he looked at the people on the horses. "Use the back door, you know where to go. You can take my horse, so go now," he looked at Rigel.

 

Rigel was about to leave, but horses were running past the workshop, panicking without Players riding them. He was curious and checked what was going on, and when he looked at the crowd, he noticed someone was standing in front of the building. A man who barely could stand on his own feet, leaning his body forward as he stared at the Players that came to the village.

 

Those Players were trembling in fear as they were on their backs, lying on the ground. Rigel was confused about why those Players were in that state, and why the horses ran away because of an old and fragile man.

 

"Who's that?" Rigel asked Beal.

 

"That's our village chief, Hondo," Beal answered.