Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) by John Gold (novel24 TXT) 📕

I’d really like to just sit and think, but I need a calmer environment for that. What do I know for sure? What can I do now? I’m twenty years and two months old. It’s been five and a half years since the battle at Airis Castle. All my things are at Clover, including the rings that can tell me about my parents. Femida isn’t replying or can’t reply. To log out of the game and recover, I need the permission of my doctor. The trial for the Hunters is in forty-one days. Wait, twenty years old? I can pick up a class without needing anybody’s permission.

First things first: I need to get a class, find Femida, and work out a way to get to the Gray Lands. Also, I need to figure out a way to kill Leon. I’m going to kill that beast with my own two hands, and it’s going to be especially cruel. I’ll kill them all! I’m going to destroy everything they hold dear, take away everything that they love and value, and cut them off from their dreams.

My hands shake. First, I need to get my health right, otherwise I won’t be able to avenge anyone. There’s obviously something wrong with my head—the somatic reaction to strong emotions is too acute.

I’m going to head to the nearest Academy of Magic. There’s just forty thousand left in my wallet, so I’m going to have to be sparing with my money or find a way to make more. But this look of mine has to go. The cat costume attracts too much attention.

It takes me an hour to get out of the sewer system. I find my way into the oldest section, probably built in a different era, and find it full of ghosts. Happily, I’m their kind of person—the ability I picked up in the Styx works great. Nobody touches me. Sometimes, I see whole city streets with signs of flooding, as new layers were apparently built over the top of old ones when that happened. I use Light Magic in those places to see the beauty of times gone by. The light from my magic lantern shines brightly, as if happy it’s being used again after the long break. I’m happy, too. Sometimes, I feel tears building up in my eyes. It’s been a long time, and I’m just as alone as these deserted streets. But everything comes to an end, the flooded blocks and ghosts run out, and I’m back in the usual city. This is a new step for me. I’m going to get out, I’m going to survive, and I’m going to take what’s mine.

Climbing out of a manhole, I find myself in the trading quarter. There are carts, shops, and players riding mounts all around me. On a pile of trash, I find a piece of cloth that will work as a cloak.

I basically don’t have any money, so I have to conserve it, though I’m not worried—this is the second time I’ve had everything taken from me. Ultimately, I only pick up a few simple things I wouldn’t mind losing. I’m a normal kid from the slums in my torn pants, gray, patched shirt, and straw hat to keep the slush off my head. My face is streaked with sweat and dirt. Gloves and shoes both come with wealth, so I have to say no there. The less attention I draw, the better.

I’m able to buy it all at the local flea market, the kind they have on the outskirts of all the big cities. The taste of fresh milk reminds me of my parents and the breakfasts we used to have. Mama would make fish soup; father would smoke out on the porch. Everything at the market reminds me of the home I no longer have. It reminds me of the poor hut I loved, of the taste of simple food, of the great things in the world like the love of your parents, the people who accepted me the way I am.

Time to keep going! I need my family! And I’m prepared to sacrifice all the gods if that’s what it takes for me to reach my goal.

Even with how much I was skimping on my clothes, I shelled out for the best map with all the capital outskirts detailed. Two thousand gold is nothing, especially now that I have information about the top level of the sewer system.

The Academy of Magic takes up a whole walled-off quarter in the eastern part of the city. There are living quarters, training grounds, lecture halls, a library, an administrative building, and lots more. There’s an analogous quarter in the west for the military arts. The description markers tell me that warriors with all different classes study there, and that they feature several obstacle courses. The port is in the south; the emperor’s palace is in the north.

After the war with the undead, several new races were unlocked. The different governments also started building consulates in each other’s capitals to foster the relationships between the races in case of another worldwide war.

Twenty minutes walking quickly along the dirty streets of Kkhor, and I find myself looking up at the towers of the mage quarter. The guards throw a casual glance at my clothes and say nothing, though their satisfied faces tell me that they see far more than just a usual player. There’s a reason they put them at the gate! It’s always nice to see professionals with skills like that. For just a second, I pause by one of them, and he instantly tenses up. After salutary smiles, I find out that they’re master swordsmen—the little hitch in my step was just as much a test for them as their once-over was a test for me. The world of the strong is a league of winners! The guards and I trade friendly grins. I’m going