The True Endgame

Book 1: Chapter 34: Patch 6.0: The Voyage South

After being chased around the ship by Cassiel, dodging whatever she could get her hands on to throw at him, Fenrir feels like he must have leveled up his speed and evasion.

Unfortunately, Cassiel’s ability at throwing things has increased just as much as his ability to dodge them.

The two eventually settle down and collapse on the deck. He’s pretty sure that he wasn’t even this tired when running away from Coastedge that first night.

“Alright, alright, truce. Let’s call it a tie,” Fenrir offers.

Between heavy breaths and calling him a bastard, Cassiel agrees to his offer and sheaths her sword.

“How much longer do you think it’s going to take until we’re there?” he asks.

“It’s on the southern coast of this region, so… just over three days in-game if we keep this speed,” Cassiel answers.

“How long does it take to cross the ocean?”

“About the same. It’s just going to take so long to get to Port Tugator because we have to go around the coast instead of straight to it.”

Fenrir stands up and looks over to the coast. “I just realized something. How come there aren’t more coastal villages down here? We went past a few more south of Coastedge, but I haven’t seen any since crossing the strait.”

“Do you think building a small coastal town with a jungle full of dinosaur monsters right behind you is going to work very well?”

“You know, you might have a point there,” Fenrir says before stretching. “Hey, if you plan on staying on for a while, want to train? I figure that we might as well try to gain some more practice fighting – wait, do you get equal experience and skills and all of that by dueling a friend? I know it usually doesn’t count in other games unless it’s an actual enemy.”

“As long as you’re pushing yourself, it doesn’t matter who you’re fighting. Just like in real life,” Cassiel explains. “But just know that I won’t take it easy on you, and you’re not going to be able to beat me.”

“So confident in yourself. Come on, I’m sure I can win at least once.”

“So confident in yourself,” Cassiel mocks him.

After finishing off the small cannonball that Fenrir gave Rock, she has returned to the first ball and is trying to jump up onto it to balance on it. Jumping onto it is the easy part. Staying balanced on it instead of tumbling off is not. It doesn’t help that the ball is constantly rolling around thanks to the shifting ship.

Both Rock and her master are training in different ways.

Unfortunately, they are both failing horribly at it.

“Told you,” Cassiel says, standing over Fenrir with her foot on his head and sword pointed down at his neck.

“How… how long was it between when you got reset and met me?” Fenrir asks. His vision is almost entirely black and he can’t move either of his arms.

“Seven days in real life, so two weeks in-game. I fought every monster I could find to practice on my way back to Coastedge and had duels in every town I stayed in. We’ll need to get cards when we reach the city so you can see just how far behind me you are.”

“Cards?”

“It’s a player-run way of knowing stats and skills. I’m not even going to begin trying to explain how it works. The stuff in those crates down there should be enough to pay for us to get cards.”

“I guess theorycrafters always find some way of making things boring and learning everything.”

“God, thank you, I know. Too bad that, unless you’re famous, you’re going to need a card to prove anything to anybody. I only had one because it was required to be eligible for becoming an angel.”

“Speaking of angels, how about you heal me so that I can beat you already?”

She heals him just as he suggests.

And then she wrecks him again.

And again.

He does a little bit better on his fourth try, but in the end, it is him lying facedown on the deck of the ship.

“I call hacks,” Fenrir groans.

“I call you being stupid,” Cassiel retorts.

Standing up once more, Fenrir looks out to the west over the ocean. Small, desert islands devoid of anything but palm trees are scattered about. Some look fairly sizeable, but most are clearly worthless without a bottled map that has a red X on it.

“What happens when you sail to the edge of the world? Does it loop around like a real planet, or do you just fall off?” Fenrir asks.

“Nobody knows. We think there’s just more continents out there, but there are huge world bosses that attack you if you try to go too far in uncharted waters,” Cassiel explains.

“So basically, to unlock more of the world, we have to either kill the bosses or find a way past them?”

“That’s what most people think.”

“Has anybody ever tried?”

“Yeah. Indra and Blackstache actually teamed up with their navies to try and take out the Southern Serpent, but Blackstache stabbed her in the back during the battle and wiped out most of her navy back then. They’ve been at war ever since, and if the two strongest navies combined couldn’t take out the boss, who could?”

“Somebody with a really big fishing rod?”

The fifth sparring bout begins.

Rock barks and runs over to the stairs. When Fenrir looks over, after being healed again, he sees Serra crouching down to pick up Rock and give her some love.

“Hey, Serra. How was your date?” Fenrir calls out to her.

Serra pouts. “It wasn’t a date; it was just lunch,” she explains. Rock barks at Fenrir as if to back her up.

“Can you believe that this bastard is the guy who got kicked out last night?” Cassiel asks, looking over at Serra.

Serra looks at each one of them, trying to figure out just how much they know. She didn’t want to tell Fenrir about meeting Cassiel, and she didn’t want to tell Cassiel about Fenrir. Yet, it seems like they both already know about meeting the other last night. “He likes getting in trouble,” Serra says.

Fenrir looks at the girls. “Hey, it sounds like you’re teaming up on me. You’re supposed to be on my side, Serra! Our friendship goes back like… a whole extra day longer than yours and hers!”

“Bad dog, getting in trouble,” Serra says.

Fenrir’s ears and tail actually droop from hearing that.

“You’re on my side, right, Rock?” he asks.

Rock barks at him and licks Serra’s face.

This is his sixth defeat.

“What have you been doing?” Serra asks, her voice hushed. Fenrir has noticed that she usually speaks in a softer and quieter tone when she hasn’t talked in a while. He figures that she has to warm up and get used to it each time.

“Training and getting my ass beat,” he answers her, hand on the back of his head to rub it.

“I… can see that.” When Serra looks at Fenrir, she sees roughed up hair, some bloodied spots in his hair and on his tail, and plenty of bruises.

Cassiel looks untouched. If anything, Cassiel just looks like she has a massive sense of smug satisfaction.

“I’m telling you, she’s hacking.”

“Want to lose again?” Cassiel asks.

Serra sits down on a crate with Rock in her lap to watch the show.

Fenrir gets his attack deflected, head grabbed onto and smashed into the mast of the ship, has his legs swept out from underneath him, and then sees Cassiel’s blade pointed down to his face with the tip of it touching his nose.

Serra claps, clearly impressed by the other girl’s skill.

However, Fenrir felt something while fighting that time. He has been attacking with a sword this entire time, but last time, that feral urge within him could be felt. It felt as if that urge was telling him that he’s fighting wrong.

“One more time,” Fenrir requests.

“Fine. I probably only have enough mana to heal you one more time after this,” Cassiel says, finishing up healing him.

He sheaths his sword and sets it down by Serra.

“You already lost with a weapon. Do you really think you can beat me without one? You’re probably already more proficient at fighting with a sword than your fists anyways,” Cassiel says.

Fenrir charges at her.

He has to focus more on avoiding her attacks now that he doesn’t have a weapon to deflect them with. The feral urge within him is growing stronger by the second as he gives in to it.

“Stay still, you bastard!” Cassiel shouts, frustrated by his increased focus on speed and evasion.

There is no thought in Fenrir’s actions. He is just going with whatever feels like the right thing to do. His head stays low as does his tail, his attacks are not strong but they are too fast for her to dodge, and he is constantly scanning her for opportunities.

He is fighting more like a wolf than a man.

With how armored she is and the height difference between them, she is only vulnerable from the neck and up.

The perfect opportunity presents itself. She thrusts her sword forward to try and stab him! He dodges to the side, grabs her wrist holding the sword, and holds her wrist above her head while his other hand wraps around her throat. He tries to lift her up off of her feet but isn’t strong enough to do that yet. Instead, he pins her back against the ship’s only mast.

Cassiel winces and glares at him. “Bastard!”

She looks into his eyes and sees the feral spirit of a beast within him. She can’t tell if she’s looking at the eyes of a man or a wolf.

That dominant look in his eyes, his bared fangs, pinning her against the mast like this and taking control from her… she’s liking this too much.

Serra blushes and holds her hands over Rock’s eyes.

Fenrir pants, trying to figure out what to do next.

Cassiel tries kneeing him, but he places a leg between her own to keep them separated and unable to get a good hit on him.

She tries pulling his hair, but he takes his hand off of her throat to grab her other wrist.

With each of her wrists restrained and her neck exposed, that feral instinct leads his mouth right down to her neck.

Cassiel’s face grows redder by the second. She feels as if her heart is going to jump out through her chest at any moment!

She feels his hot, heavy breath against her exposed neck. The warmth of his breath rolling against her skin makes her want to push herself even closer to his lips.

Fenrir hesitates when he realizes what he’s doing. Regaining control of his senses, he sees her tilting her head to the side as if she’s willingly giving him easier access to her neck.

When she sees his hesitation, she realizes just what exactly she is doing, puts all of her strength into her right arm, and thrusts her sword through his abdomen.

Fenrir lets go of her wrists and falls to his knees. He is defeated once again.

“You bastard,” Cassiel says, not able to look in his direction.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure I’m about to die here,” he says with a pained voice. “Can you heal me already?”

She kicks him for how nonchalant he sounds after all of that.

“You bastard!”

She eventually heals him, but not before her heart calms down.