The Bathrobe Knight: Volume 3 (37 page)

“I’m sorry, Great Lord Darwin. I won’t let it happen again.” Alex bowed even deeper. “Please forgive me.”

“I might be able to, but” --Darwin did his best to cast his gaze across every single player-- “I think I need a sacrifice first. I ordered you all here to take a city, but by the time you arrived, I had already done the hard work myself. How are they to prove themselves if there is nothing left to kill?”

“There are still the civilians, Lord Darwin. Perhaps these new recruits might still have a chance to pay for their tardiness and prove themselves?” Kitchens drew his sword. Darwin half-expected him to lick it with the way his voice creeped across his ears.

Note to self: Kitchens could easily be a video game voice actor.
Darwin swallowed a laugh before it reached his throat. “Will civilians leave them hardened for combat? Will civilians train them in the ways of war? Do you think this lot could wrestle a city from its possessors with the skills they learn by butchering civilians?” Darwin tried to make each question boom out of his chest with feigned anger as he faced Kitchens.

“No, Great Lord, but they can prove their commitment,” Kitchens bowed.

“Their commitment? Is there still doubt?” Darwin continued the questioning and then turned to the army. “Demons, is there still doubt concerning your commitment to the cause? Is there doubt that you want to lay waste to your foes?” He waited for them to cheer a resounding ‘No!’ before continuing. “Is there any doubt you want to see their blood run in rivers before you?” The cheer came again. “Is there any doubt that you want to listen to the wailing cries of their families before your boot crushes them too?” The ‘No!’ grew even louder. “Then prove it! Burst through those doors and murder every man and woman who does not serve me. Go through every alley and spill blood. I have told those citizens loyal to me that they are to stay inside with doors locked, so, if they are outside, they are traitors, and we know how to handle traitors, don’t we?” They cheered.
This is why they signed up. They didn’t join for the robes: They joined for the fun. They joined for the mayhem. Inside that city, there are probably hundreds of enemy players logged on too, wandering through the streets, clueless as to why the merchants have barred the doors and the guards aren’t around.
Darwin lifted his flaming zweihander up and slammed it into the ground in front of him. “Preach my word through steel! Convert or kill them all!”

Everyone stared at him for a moment, not moving. “I SAID GO!” he yelled as loud as he could, baring his teeth as he did, and it worked. They all started sprinting through the doors.

“What about the barbeque?” Kitchens looked over at the laid-out meat.

“I . . .” Darwin tried momentarily to think of an excuse and then gave up. “I just forgot.”

“So are we going to let them have all the fun?” Kitchens asked, brandishing his katana and then re-sheathing it in one quick flurry.

“Well, we can join, but I think it’s more important for us to get Alex, Daniel and the others together and either level . . . or maybe just stand around and look like menacingly-evil generals to complete the picture.” Darwin looked over the horde of players storming through the open gates to ‘preach his word through steel.’
We took an entire city and barely had to kill a few dozen NPCs, and then we offered it up for our players to raid without having to worry about anyone but immortal players dying. This act, this is something I can do, but it will only work so long as we can find enough white-knight, up-in-arms-style players to fight against us so that we can feed these guys’ hunger for violence while moving the battlefield away from the NPCs at the same time. But how do I do that at Jotunnheim in the same clean way I did it here?
Darwin bounced his concerns back and forth through his head without ever actually answering Kitchens.

“What about our levels?” Kitchens asked. “We’ve been sitting here for what feels like half a day. We need to always be ahead of the players in levels and gear, or we won’t be able to maintain authority. How about we let Alex wrap things up here, and you and I go tackle another dungeon? Or do the snow cone dungeon again? That one seemed easy enough.”

“That’s . . . not a bad idea.” Darwin looked towards the gate Alex had barreled through with a hundred players behind him. “But how would we let Alex know that we won’t be coming back until it’s time to sack the next town?”
And we still haven’t touched the NPC problem. Killing a few corrupt officials is one thing, and taking out the heirs-apparent is necessary, but how do we stop the next sacking from creating needless victims if we don’t already own the town when it gets sacked?

“Well, one of us could stay behind and let him know.” Kitchens looked around. “I think Mclean and Minx were supposed to be somewhere in the group of players that went into the city with Daniel. I could go find Minx really quick if you don’t mind waiting. Ever since she started using Fuzzy Wuzzy as a mount, she’s been pretty easy to spot in a group.”

Darwin continued to stare at the gate. His mind was in an entirely different place. “Yeah, sure, that sounds fine.” Darwin was still in a daze as Kitchens darted off to find Minx, half-drunk on victory and half-sober with contemplation as he faced the looming dread that this might be the only smooth victory. With the average rate of gameplay, he would have to sack one to two cities a day to keep up the momentum.
An opposing faction . . . if we make ourselves evil enough to players, or we find a way to get Eve to rally enough players to attack us in the open fields every day, then we could have all of the bloodshed needed to pay our army of players and still maintain zero NPC casualties,
Darwin thought hopefully.
Well, unless--
His stream of consciousness was suddenly diverted by the familiar ding of a Tiqpa notification message.

A party member has been killed.

What the . . . Kitchens died? Was I in a group with anyone besides Kitchens? Is Daniel in my group?
Darwin frantically looked for the status menus he had grown accustomed to when playing MMOs on a computer, the ones that had his party members and their health conveniently listed, but was even more confused by the next notification.

I
t was Kass.

Kass died? But she’s not even in the game right now. How could she die?
Darwin couldn't make any sense of what was going on. He was bewildered by the Tiqpa system informing him of a party member’s death, let alone answering his thoughts and questions. His mind raced as he tried to make heads or tails of how Kass could die when she wasn’t even supposed to be logged in.
She was supposed to be . . .

Yes, that’s right. She was supposed to be seeing me. She was shot for her betrayal.

              The gentle thumping of his heart grew faster and louder. It went from a simple, steady thud to a rapid succession of beats that would leave a skilled snare drummer impressed. Before the text box even faded, Darwin turned and started sprinting towards the portal. With each step that drew him closer to the portal, he grew more and more anxious about the situation, desperate to get to the real world and find Kass.

Why are you running so fast? It’s not like you’ll miss the funeral . . . Or are you coming to kill me?

I’m going to do more than kill you if you’ve hurt Kass!
Darwin yelled inside his own head.
I’m going to rip you apart!
He felt the violent pounding of his heart. He felt his blood and anger grow with each thundering beat and pulse into his head as his vision slowly turned redder in time with the war drum in his chest. Each passing second caused the crimson tint to darken just a little bit more.

That’s it, isn’t it? You’re coming to kill me, aren’t you? How noble. Darwin the Butcher, eagerly jumping at the first opportunity to murder someone with a clean conscience. What a senseless beast you are, always looking for an excuse to murder someone--maybe it is best Kass will never have to see this side of you.

The words on the pop-ups slowly needled their way into Darwin’s psyche, the taunts causing his face to almost bust a blood vessel as he grew ever closer to the obsidian gateway.

You’re like a child throwing temper tantrums left and right because something didn’t go your way. You’re pathetic. You think that you can save people, that you can lead them to victory, but all you’re capable of is leading them to their death.

             
If you’re just trying to make me angry, it’s working,
Darwin grumbled with great vexation. He wanted to murder Charles, to rip his throat out and beat the man to death with his own vocal chords, but he didn’t know what to do past that. While the thought kept crossing his mind, lapping his madness like a hare circling a race track, he couldn’t see past the red, the bloody pall of fury that was creeping across his world.

Would it help you to know we didn’t give her the quick death? My bodyguard always said, “A well-kept corpse is more important than a quick finish,” so he left her to bleed out on a cold floor. He left her to die alone, suffering and crying like a sniveling brat as she begged for help. If it makes you feel better, your name was the last one she called out before she died. She actually thought, even in her darkest hour, that you would help her. I wonder how painful it was to die like that. I hear it’s agonizing.

              And that was it. The baiting taunts had won, and the slowly ebbing ire turned into a wave that washed across Darwin’s consciousness, purging him of sanity and control. He didn’t know how much time passed until he regained it, but he did know that, when he finally came to, he was in Mt. Lawlheima, fighting Alex, Kitchens and Daniel as they did their best to restrain him without hurting him as he flailed about on the ground.

As his eyes narrowed in on the ground before him, regaining their focus, he saw that he was on his belly again, his burning blade over ten feet in front of him, with Kitchens and Daniel holding his arms as he struggled to throw them off.

“This was a lot more difficult than last time,” Kitchens noted as he did his best to hold Darwin’s left arm twisted behind his back.

“Well, you’re the one who told Fuzzy Wuzzy not to sit on him again,” Daniel complained as he struggled with Darwin’s right arm. “How long do you think we have to hold him for anyway? Do you think he’ll get ahold of himself again anytime soon?”

Oh, look, you’re awake. You’re wondering how you got where you are? Did they come save you, or did they only get to you after you killed a few bystanders? Go on, check your hands. Are they red with blood?

              Darwin quickly looked up at his hand, the one on his right arm that Daniel was holding in front of him since the one Kitchens was wrangling behind his back was impossible to see.
Clean. No blood.
Darwin sighed in relief.

Come on, Darwin. That’s just one hand. What about the other? What if I were to describe how you held that poor girl’s neck in that hand before you squeezed? Should I go into detail about how her eyes bulged out, and she gasped for air before her tiny little frame stopped moving?

Darwin gulped.
I . . . I didn’t do that. No. He’s lying . . . That couldn’t be me. I wouldn’t do that even if I was in a rage.
He tried to calm himself down as he looked around, trying to find any signs of having fought anything to the death.
That’s right. This place is filled with people who could fight back. They wouldn’t just let me do that.

Okay, don’t worry. You didn’t. I’d like to say you did, but where would the trust be if I lied to you? No, you didn’t kill anyone. But I have. But I will. I’ll kill them all. In fact, maybe I should stop sending you these messages and come do it right now?

No, you can’t!
Darwin managed to momentarily rip his arm free from Daniel’s grasp as his frustration boiled over, but then Kitchens and Daniel both managed to get ahold of it again.

Can’t what? Kill a few NPCs? Because doing that is your job? Or are you going to pretend like you don’t enjoy massacring the poor, little things? I still have the footage from your little war against the Panda King. I made sure to record it, after all.

I had to kill them, they were going to—

I know that face, Darwin. I know that face all too well. Right now, you’re thinking, ‘I had to kill them to protect Alex and the people from Valcrest!’ But is that really the logic of a hero? You had to butcher thousands of people so that a few hundred could survive the night? If it were fifty thousand, would you still have done it? Would you have killed a hundred thousand? A million? Where do you draw the line in your inhuman rampages?

“Let me go!” Darwin yelled aloud as he pulled against his restraints. Kitchens and Daniel complied after a few seconds and Darwin was able to climb back up and onto to his feet.

              “You feeling better now?” Kitchens asked as he patted the dirt off Darwin’s back.

Careful, Darwin. I know where they live. The only reason I haven’t killed them yet is that they don’t know that I killed her. They have no information Stephanie could use in linking me to this crime. Don’t make me kill them too just because you need to slake your barbaric thirst for blood. Remember, I’m just like you: I will kill scores to protect the race I deem worthy.

              “I’m not barbaric!” Darwin protested at Charles, leaving Kitchens and Daniels to look at him strangely.

              “No-one said you were. This happens. It’s a plagued skill; it’s not you.” Daniels tried to comfort his friend, putting a hand on Darwin’s shoulder.

A disease? Is that what they call it? That’s because they don’t know you like I do. They don’t know that your rage, your hunger, isn’t just some passive ability, but your very being. It’s an integral part of your nature that you sated with games until the first opportunity presented itself, and then you just couldn’t help but feed the addiction and take a real man’s life.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Darwin shouted, continuing to repudiate Charles’s stinging accusations.

“Huh?” Daniels asked.

Minx looked over at Fuzzy Wuzzy, who met her glance and gave a roar before the two turned back to face Darwin. “Fuzzy Wuzzy and I both agree. He’s not talking to you. He’s lost it. He’s talking to someone we can’t see.” Minx raised a finger up to her ear and did the crazy motion before looking back at Fuzzy Wuzzy. “No, Fuzzy, what he’s lost can’t be found.”

I don’t know what I’m talking about? Tell me, why didn’t you just hide? Why did you rush to meet the intruder with the first weapon you could find? How about when you came to Tiqpa? Did you try to reason with your first assailant? Or did you consider letting the Minotaurs kill the girl? After all, three permanent deaths to save a girl from one temporary one . . . Does that feel like a fair trade? Did it ever cross your mind that the legion you butchered was real? You accepted that it was a game so quickly you never considered another possibility. You never thought to question the nature and existence of Tiqpa before slaughtering thousands of people. Or are you going to tell me that, in each of those situations, you ‘had’ to kill, that there was ‘no other way’?

Darwin struggled against the facts, but could offer no defense. Ironically, there was no position open for him to play the devil’s advocate. The issue was cut and dry as far as Darwin could see. He was the foul beast, the philistine who mucked about in murder even when lives weren’t on the line. From the day he was born, he had been killing NPCs in one game or another. He killed creations every day that constantly came closer and closer to mirroring his own level of sentience and right to exist.

“You think it’s a new symptom?” Mclean said as she appeared on Darwin’s left, almost stepping out of the shadows as she fiddled around with one of her knives. “Do you think it’s linked to Hunger, or is it connected to a new skill altogether?”

Should I take it from your final silence, your defeated pose and those slumped shoulders that you have come to terms with your nature? Go ahead, Darwin. Admit what you are. Admit you’re the monster that mothers warn their kids about . . . Except you don’t hide under the bed. You raze the whole town. You leave every living thing left in the streets to be massacred just so you don’t have to put in the effort of raising zombie defenders for your people. After all, that would be too much work, wouldn’t it? Look, your sword is in front of you. Just grab it. If you kill yourself, you’ll be trapped by Tiqpa forever, unable to hurt another soul. Why don’t you prove you have a conscience once and for all and save a multitude with one simple blow?

Darwin took a few steps forward and bent down to pick up his burning zweihander.

              “Should we just let him hold a sword given, you know, his current mercury-polished-hat personality?” Mclean asked as she juggled her blades back and forth between her hands.

             
He’s not wrong. This is all I do. This is all I’ve ever done. Murder things. Sure, it’s a game, but are they any less real than I am at this point?
Darwin’s blood raced, and his throat seemed to stop pulling in air as a gulp caught halfway down. Charles was right. There was sense in his words--no matter how badly Darwin didn’t want that to be the case.

“Darwin, can you hear us?” Kitchens asked. “Where is Kass when you need her? She’s known him the longest. She might know if this has happened before.”

That’s right. Kass. Even if I do have to take myself out of the equation, I can do it after Charles is dead. I still have to exact vengeance for what he did to her. I'm not the only monster that needs killing.

Did you know one of those first three Minotaurs you killed had a wife, a daughter, two sons and a dog? Well, I wouldn’t exactly call it a ‘dog,’ but it was a loyal pet that was sure to die in a dozen years, so it’s the same difference, right? You should have seen how happy he was with her. How happy they were with him. But your friend, Kass, she tried to end that and take his life for a little bit of EXP. And what did you do? You helped her finish the job. Was it because she was pretty? Were you hoping she’d flip that skirt up for you if you saved her enough times? Or was it because she was human like you . . . like you thought you were.

Darwin marched towards the portal with his sword in hand. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that, even if Charles proved him to be the worse devil, he still needed to kill the man.

It was the human part, wasn’t it? After all, you’re not some creep who thinks that saving a girl’s life entitles you to a round under the covers. No, you saved her because, in the grand scheme of things, it’s always us versus them. It’s always red team versus blue team, black versus white, and you couldn’t let them win.

As angry as Darwin was, the logic Charles pressed on him was sound. He could almost picture the Minotaur with a little daughter riding around on his horns while his two boys played at being warriors with wooden swords. Even as he began his journey deeper into Mt. Lawlheima towards the portal, towards his vengeance, he could still feel the weight of his conscience pressing against him, punishing him for perceived and known sins. Charles was right. He really was a beast hell-bent on nothing but base revenge.

It’s actually a shame I have to trap you, to imprison you in this world. If it weren’t for Stephanie’s grand plan to eliminate humanity, you could have gone about your days leveling in Tiqpa and played the part of my little, perfect guinea pig for decades. But no, you just couldn’t enjoy the game as it was meant to be played. You had to play by her rules. You had to build a guild. You had to found a nation. You had to follow her despicable vision and turn good, honest, hard-working people into loathsome Demons.