Chapter 3

The adrenaline was slowly fading and the pain was throbbing on his chest, worse with every passing second.

And that’s just some scratches, he reminded himself as he felt the phantom pain of the knight’s sword slamming into and through his chest. A hand instinctively touched where the blade had hit.

He shook his head, the motion sending pain through his chest as he grit his teeth. The first thing he did was to carefully move the glass shards on the floor into a pile. There were still some small pieces in his arm he noticed, picking them out carefully. Only a few had punctured the skin completely and the pain was very much overshadowed by the burns.

The door to the terrace was still open so air wouldn’t be a problem but Adrian still decided the flames still clinging to his prized shirt should be put out.

He didn’t exactly have a fire extinguisher with him so he decided to just roll the woman on top of it. He needed to retrieve the dagger anyway. Two birds.

Adrian had seen corpses before. Not someone stabbed by a dagger. Far worse actually. He found little empathy for the monster lying in front of him, not after his experience today and the fight they had. She wasn’t human. Not anymore. He was sure of it.

She was rather heavy for her size.

Adrian was pretty sure it was more a testament to his lack of fitness than the woman’s weight. His heavy breathing underlined the thought. Other than the belly and some padding, he wasn’t exactly noticeably overweight.

If anything, he had lost weight in the last couple years. A lack of motivation will do that. Cardio still existed however and no matter how thin someone was, it didn’t mean they were fit.

He ripped out the dagger and winced at the noise it made.

The glass shards and flames taken care of, he decided to move the corpse a little farther away from his exit to the terrace. He kept an eye on her face as he pulled her by her arms.

Pretty much just a corpse.

It was interesting how little he cared. A walking corpse was not the weirdest thing about all this. Perhaps it was even one of the most normal things. Something that fit into this place he had found himself in.

He was certain now that there wasn’t a tourist information desk on the ground floor. This place wasn’t on Earth, or it was secluded, cursed and cut off.

The pain moved a little into the background now, his jaw perpetually clenched. He adjusted his movements automatically to keep the burns from being moved. At least he still felt something. He had heard that the really scary stuff is when the nerves burned up too.

Looking inward, he found something new.

Soulbound:

Essence – -92

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9

Skill – 8 [11]

Intelligence – 12

Wisdom – 11

Soul skill – Slot 1

I got eight Essence. Either from killing her or from the experience of fighting her. Maybe my use of the oil lamp or the dagger provided something as well.

For now, he didn’t know more. The only thing he was pretty sure about was that low Essence was bad, high Essence was good. Even that could be wrong but if getting murdered awarded minus one hundred, it couldn’t exactly be beneficial.

Explore the damn room, he reminded himself, having stood there in silence for the past two minutes.

He was still bleeding lightly from some of the scratches on his chest, the blood rolling down and wetting his pants.

Dagger in hand, he once more approached the now open door. He knocked on it with the hilt of the weapon.

This time, there was no commotion.

Adrian sighed and gripped the letter opener before he stepped into the dark room.

His eyes adjusted after a while and he found a familiar sight, a relieved smile on his lips as he went to grab the oil lamp on top of the bedside table.

There were matches next to it and soon he had his little light back.

It’s scary how used I am to lamps, phones and streetlights. If I run out of oil, I’ll just be trapped in darkness.

He tried not to let the thought get to him. It helped to focus on the pain, a more immediate problem than the primordial fear of the dark.

I should have gotten another shirt, he thought, looking through the drawers on the table before moving on to the large closet.

Adrian stepped to the side of the thing and opened it, having seen enough horror movies to know the monsters would jump out right at you if you stood in front of it.

Nothing jumped out however and he quickly focused his attention on the clothing within.

Most of it was white, adorned with silver embroideries. Actual silver. He was pretty sure about that.

It took him a while to look through the stuff, putting his lamp on the floor in the meantime. The dagger he still held in one hand, making the process much more difficult but he was not in a state to let go of his only defense.

There were dresses as well as lingerie. Luckily, there were clothes intended for men as well. Adrian wasn’t a cross dresser but in this situation he would rather wear three dresses than nothing at all.

The quality was superb, whoever this belonged to must have been wealthy. Not that the large wooden bed with a canopy or the art in the hallway left much doubt.

Sadly, none of the clothes added much in the sense of defense, the fabrics thin and comfortable. Adrian was at least pretty sure that he had never been dressed this well. The size of whoever owned these clothes was even a little larger than him.

The dust present on everything here suggested that this room, like the others hadn’t been tread in for some time at least. Adrian knew the difference between a medieval castle and this however and either someone spent an irrational mountain of money to keep this all in shape or this place wasn’t as old as the ruins found on Earth.

Putting on a shirt came close to the pain of dying, both the movement and the fabric touching the burned area.

Adrian found nicer pants than his but the fabric seemed even more flimsy. There should be a way to gauge what benefits this would give me, he thought and looked deep into the fabric. He found that if he moved the pants right up to his face, nearly touching his nose, he saw the information. As if it was written into his mind.

Legs – Royal Faenhold Silk Pants [High]

Wisdom +2

Light Magic Control +4

He moved them back and pushed air out of his nose. “Magic pants, hmm?” he murmured and put them onto the bed.

The next couple minutes were spent on getting dressed. His immediate needs outbid the urge to look through every single piece of clothing in the dresser, if only by a little. Adrian instead grabbed one piece of each thing and put it all on.

There was even underwear. No more danger of accidentally catching his belongings in an unfortunate death grip between his own thighs.

Three overlapped shirts additionally stopped the bleeding on his chest. A thin coat provided some warmth.

He quickly checked his stats before continuing his search.

Soulbound:

Essence – -92

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9

Skill – 8 [15]

Intelligence – 12 [17]

Wisdom – 11 [16]

Soul skill – Slot 1

Equipment:

Helmet –

Chest – Royal Faenhold Silk Shirt [High]

Intelligence +3

Light Magic Damage +2

Arms –

Hands – Royal Faenhold Silk Gloves [High]

Skill +4

Rogue Soul Skill Damage +3

Belt – Royal Faenhold Belt [High]

Intelligence +2

Light Magic Mana Cost +2

Legs – Faenhold Knight Pants [Adequate]

Skill +2

Boots – Royal Faenhold Slippers [High]

Wisdom +5

Lightning Resistance +2%

1h Weapon – Letter Opener [Adequate]

Skill +1

2h Weapon –

Off Hand –

I don’t feel wiser than I was before, he noted, surprised that the thin white gloves, clearly intended for the feminine sex, provided the only graspable bonus.

Even with the additional things, he had no sudden flash of inspiration and could suddenly cast light magic, be that illumination or a lighter type of magic.

More and more game like elements revealed themselves. The existence of magic and resistances as well as the mention of a Rogue soul skill.

The fact that three shirts didn’t provide triple the bonus had been rather obvious, otherwise everyone worth their salt would walk around in thirty layers of clothes.

I’d really rather go for Vitality and Endurance than all those bonuses to my non existent magical ability.

He sighed and looked at the dresses. They likely provided Skill as well but right now he really, really didn’t want to take off his shirts again. The dried blood had already fused with some of the silk. A worry for future Adrian.

It’s going to get infected, isn’t it?, he didn’t think about it, grabbing his lamp and continuing through the royal bedroom.

There were no weapons, no armor, not even water or food. These were the downsides of raiding a royal bed chamber. Servants brought most of the things a normal person needed to survive.

Adrian was at least glad he was brought to a castle instead of the wilderness. In these temperatures, he would have already lost to the elements.

With underwear, socks, three shirts and two pairs of pants, Adrian prepared himself for the next room.

The sun was setting, long shadows striking into the marble hallway and giving the paintings a sinister look.

Adrian first went to the office and got the wooden chair, its frame small and light enough to be carried. He then set down the oil lamp a couple meters to his right and on the floor. The chair was put to his left. He tried lifting it a couple times and thought about using it as a shield.

Ultimately, he decided against it and simply left it slightly to the left of the door. He found this one unlocked too, the second room in the hallway, from the left.

This time, he pushed the door open inwards and took a quick step back. He pushed down the chair in front of the open entrance and waited, the dagger held with both hands. He didn’t know how to wield a knife anyway and so decided to go for more grip and stability.

The chair had certainly made enough noise to attract something from within but nothing happened. Adrian was still wary, knowing that the knight hadn’t exactly reacted to his entrance and search until he talked to the man.

“Anyone in there?” he spoke, not too loud in case the knight was in the hall to his left.

Nothing.

He walked to the door and tapped it with his dagger and waited. Half a minute later, he grabbed his lamp and went inside. A quick look told him everything he had to know, stepping back and closing the door behind him.

It was an art gallery. The most useless thing to a man stranded in a foreign castle with infectious wounds and burns on his chest. He sighed, looking at the last door.

This time he moved the chair quietly to the floor in front of it. Any unnecessary noise had to be avoided, only around five meters away from the exit out into the hall. The place where he had died.

He looked at the door for a while, the memory from a couple hours ago feeling like it had happened a week past.

Focus, you are still hurt and if you don’t clean your wounds in some way, you might very well just jump over the railings.

He put the lamp down and gripped his dagger.

The door opened with a squeak.

Adrian stepped back and immediately heard the moans and growls coming from within.

Cold sweat rolled down his back as he waited, hearing the shuffling steps. No metal, he noted. More than one.

Two people stepped into the light, both human. A man and a woman, rotten and dried out husks of what they had once been, dressed in dusty worn attire. Servants, to be sure.

The man saw him and sped up, slamming into the chair before he smacked to the floor. The woman followed close behind, losing her footing as well but only stumbling.

Adrian jumped to the side to avoid the unbalanced woman before he rushed to the man.

“I’m sorry!” he said for some reason before he slammed the dagger down into the man’s back. He ripped it out and slammed it down once more.

A growl coming from the woman made him turn and look her way. She had recovered and was now shuffling towards him in a quick pace.

“Stay back…,” he said and ripped the dagger out, holding it out against her as he was pushed back into the unknown room. He was mostly panicking, most of his moves pure instinct.

The woman’s legs caught themselves in the moving chair entanglement before she fell to her knees, pushing down the still moving man below her.

Adrian stepped up and slashed his dagger through her face, finding little purchase as his grip slipped. The blade clattered to the floor, barely visible in the dark room.

He yelped and crouched down, trying to find it. He felt a hand grasp at his leg, rotten nails digging into the soft fabric of his two pants. A moment later, he found the dagger and nearly cut himself.

He turned and came face to face with the crawling woman, his left fist lashing out in a hard punch that broke some bones. He wasn’t sure yet if it had been his or hers.

She was stunned for a moment before her chin was pierced by a dagger from below, steel digging into her skull before she slumped down.

Adrian kept his hand on the blade and ripped it out. His sight was blurry and he felt hot. Too many shirts!

He stood up once more, nearly losing his footing before he caught himself. He found the second attacker in the same unfortunate position he left him in and approached. Another four quick stabs cut into the man’s back before he stopped moving.

He had won.

Adrian took a step back, trying to find somewhere to hold himself. In the end he found a wall with his back, sliding down until his butt hit the floor.

The adrenaline was still pumping, his hands shaking as they gripped the dagger’s hilt.

His head pounded before a noise started ringing in his right ear. It moved over to his left as it became hard to focus, his breathing speeding up at the same time.

A familiar feeling but it had never become easier. Today weirdly, it wasn’t worse.

The moment passed. Sometimes it took a mere minute, often longer. It was the pain that ripped him back into the stark reality once more, less than half a minute before the ringing had started.

His eyes focused once more but he couldn’t make himself move. He could tell his chest had gotten worse. All the moving and fighting mixed in with the sweat. God, it’s so hot, he thought and made himself stand up, if only to take off two of the unnecessary shirts.

He knew he would regret it, on a purely rational level. He would catch a cold and with whatever these people were, a fever and infection with it. Oh no… I hope it’s not a zombie thing and I’m infected.

The fear felt stupid to him, a part of his mind ridiculing himself for even going there and yet he had just killed three people. They looked like humans and yet they weren’t. Not anymore.

Think clearly. Fear isn’t going to get you anywhere.

Infections spread through blood and you have several uncleaned open wounds. If there is a chance to survive this, you have to clean them. Somehow.

Adrian carefully moved over the corpses, trying to ignore the weight of his actions for now. The thought of zombies worked both ways, warping the fact that he had killed living beings into an almost comedic anecdote.

He grabbed the lamp and went back, gulping as he glanced at the door to the left side hall. It remained closed.

This room was smaller than those he had entered before and yet he immediately found several more immediately useful things than books and art.

A basin first and foremost, copper in color with pipes leading off of it. This place had plumbing. If it worked was another question. One he tested immediately, turning on the valves.

Hope turned to anxious anticipation to fear and finally back to joy when a dribble of water turned into a sizable flow. He couldn’t judge the quality of the water very well but put down his weapon and lamp nonetheless, his hands held into the stream.

He found a piece of iron inside the rather large tub and used it to plug the drain. Cleaning the wounds has priority but I should find a way to boil it first at least. Otherwise I’ll get worse infections than otherwise.

Adrian looked through the rest of the small room, finding a bunk bed for four people as well as several cabinets with interesting items.

The things he immediately focused on were a bunch of beautifully crafted glass bottles with colorful substances inside. There are stats already, why wouldn’t there be potions of some sort, he wondered and tried to open the cabinet, finding it was closed.

All the doors were open but this random cabinet was locked. At least that means whatever is in there is valuable.

Adrian was getting impatient. There was water and possibly helpful things locked away and he wasn’t about to go through the corpses to look for a key.

The glass on the cabinet looked to be there for aesthetic reasons mostly, meaning he could likely break it.

If the knight didn’t hear that fight, he’s not going to hear this, Adrian thought.

He walked over to the door and closed it, glancing at the corpses in the hallway. They were rotting already but something had to be done about them soon, otherwise he might get a disease. If he wasn’t already infected with their affliction.

His chest was hurting more with each step.

Inside, he wrapped his hand with one of the bed sheets, grabbing his dagger before he smashed the small glass windows on the cabinet.

He had to hit three times with increasing strength to punch through, the dagger slipping out of his hand as a shard cut through the sheets and into his hand.

“Fuck,” he winced at the sharp sensation, pain following shortly after. As well as blood. A lot of blood.

Adrian nearly stumbled as he looked at the sheets drenched in his blood, the light from his lamp not helping the case. Fuck… I’m in a bad shape, he thought and got out the bottles from within the cabinet.

There were three on the shelf he had broken into, as well as scissors and bandages.

The latter just added to the notion of his that these were potions of sorts. His hand was getting heavier, wet with blood.

The pain and panic made him frantically open one of the bottles, removing the glass top with a plop sound before he brought it to his mouth.

He stopped shy of drinking. You’re going to bleed out… or get infected. Are you really going to find a pot to boil water with all those injuries? What if there are more monsters?

Adrian closed his eyes and prayed to anything that would listen, hoping that at least something in this magical place was on his side. He opened his eyes again, the rational part of his mind screaming at him not to drink some old liquid thing he had found that looked more like blood than anything.

He sat down on the lower bunk of one of the beds and carefully unwrapped his arm, the lamp on the floor to provide some light.

The bleeding had calmed down. He hadn’t cut his artery. Good job Adrian.

The cut was of course still bloody, nearly covering the whole of his palm. He gingerly held the bottle in his left hand, trying to stop the shaking before a drop of the liquid fell down.

It sizzled on his skin and he could see how the edge of the wound closed, if only a little. “Yes!” he exclaimed in a manic joy before he looked to the door, expecting something to enter at any moment.

Nothing happened and he poured more of the potion onto the wound, watching with fascinated eyes as it slowly closed up, his palm returning to a healthy state.

He carefully put down the potion and took off his shirts. The smell immediately hit him, adding to the iron tinge and rotten odor still present in the room.

Adrian looked down on his naked chest and was sure he didn’t exactly have time to boil water. The scratches had already festered and it looked like it was spreading. This was beyond anything water could clean out.

He groaned and rested his head on the wall, putting his legs in the bed before her grabbed the potion again. Carefully, he poured its contents over the infected areas and all the cuts he could find, watching it all heal up nicely.

There was a little left in the potion and he drank it for good measure.

He sighed, resting in the hard bed. The pillow didn’t help much.

Adrian turned to the side, taking a deep breath, his body not in pain for the first time in hours.

He was exhausted, the events of the day numbing his mind as he grabbed the dagger and held it with all the strength he had left. The flame of the oil lamp moved in a serene pattern and Adrian closed his eyes.

The oil would run out over night but right now he did not care. He had survived.

Soulbound:

Essence – -76

Level – 0

Vitality – 10

Endurance – 10

Strength – 9

Skill – 8 [11]

Intelligence – 12 [14]

Wisdom – 11 [16]

Soul skill – Slot 1

Equipment:

Helmet –

Chest –

Arms –

Hands –

Belt – Royal Faenhold Belt [High]

Intelligence +2

Light Magic Mana Cost +2

Legs – Faenhold Knight Pants [Adequate]

Skill +2

Boots – Royal Faenhold Slippers [High]

Wisdom +5

Lightning Resistance +2%

1h Weapon – Letter Opener [Adequate]

Skill +1

2h Weapon –

Off Hand –