Kevin wasn't rushing to log into the game. There was no point. The moment he did, the system would gently inform him: "Your character is currently unconscious... Time until awakening: ** hours. Please wait patiently."
He did some math. His character's coma duration had reached over two hundred hours—more than a week! Would the system just greet me with, 'Your hunger level is critically high. You have died.'? The thought was almost laughable. With nothing better to do, he browsed the game forums. A few threads caught his attention.
· "Player Achieves First Class Advancement Beyond Tier 2!" According to the in-game chronicler, after a nearly four-month bottleneck at Level 60 for the third advancement, China's top player, WarLord, had successfully broken through. It was believed his lead would soon pull the entire cohort of elite Chinese players past this barrier.
· The second notable post was by WarLord himself, concerning equipment after Level 60. Drop rates for gear became extremely low, but the drop rate for high-tier materials increased. This subtly signaled the dawn of the professional crafter's era.
· The final thread was speculation about the next major update, focusing primarily on pets, nation-versus-nation warfare, and the looming conflict between races.
Days passed. One, two, three. On the third day, he could finally log in normally.
Entering the game, Kevin found himself at the entrance to the mines. How did I get here? It didn't matter. What mattered were the changes to his character. He opened his status panel.
Player Name: Nightshade
Race: Kindred (Vampire) Note: The 'Class' field was missing.
Title: None
Guild: None
Growth Value: 0 Note: The 'Level' field was missing.
(Fields for Death Count, Strength, Agility, Stamina, Intelligence, and Remaining Stat Points were all missing.)
Luck: ??
Charisma: ??
Insight: ??
HP: ??
MP: ??
Physical Attack: ??
Magic Attack: ??
Defense: ??
Speed: ??
Equipment: Novice Set. Note: Provides no stat bonuses. (This meant equipment was purely cosmetic for him. Wearing a divine artifact would have the same effect as novice cloth.)
Skills:
· Immortal: Unless struck in a vital weak point, you are undying!
· Sanguine Siphon (Passive): When attacking monsters, convert 10% of damage dealt into HP. Restores health, heals wounds, reduces fatigue and hunger.
· Soul Plunder (Passive): Upon killing a player, gain experience equal to their current level's requirement, fueling your own Growth.
· Shapeshift: Allows partial adjustment of appearance.
Looking at these attributes, Kevin knew it—he was now the stuff of legend.
But even legends had to get back to the village. Kevin got up and walked out of the cave mouth. Immediately, a searing, scalding pain erupted over his skin, as if molten iron had been poured on him. He scrambled back inside. Looking at his half-scorched, blackened arm, he understood. Damn, vampires really are afraid of the sun. He wondered about high heat in general, recalling the blistering heat by the furnace. A small, involuntary shudder ran through him.
No choice. He turned back into the mine and started mining idly to pass the time. Only when the sky finally darkened did he follow the path back to Grimwater.
The village under nightfall was exceptionally peaceful. A gentle breeze carried the damp scent of earth mixed with floral fragrance. Looking up, he saw mischievous stars winking down. Kevin loved this feeling—away from the city, away from the noise, away from the crowds.
"Master! I'm back!" Kevin's not-so-harmonious shout shattered the village's tranquility. Forger Markus poked his head out of the smithy, a long-stemmed pipe in his hand, puffing away at strong tobacco. After a few days apart, Kevin thought Markus looked somewhat haggard, his eyes slightly bloodshot. The forge fire had long gone out, leaving a cold emptiness.
"Brat! You're finally back! Thought you'd kicked the bucket!" Markus feigned annoyance.
"Master, it's a long story. Hard to explain in a few words. I'll tell you when there's time. Sorry to make you worry." Kevin's eyes grew slightly moist.
"Don't tell me you're gonna cry? Actually, I wasn't worried about you. I was worried about my Cosmic Satchel! That was your master's wife's dowry! These past few days she's been ready to grind my bones to ash! Since you're back, hand it over. Oh, and about your daily ore quota... Huh, not bad! Advanced Mining already! You were gone for eleven days. Let me calculate... you owe 300 low-grade ore and 800 mid-grade ore. For overdue payment, system rules impose penalties—I won't bore you with the details—totaling 3,400 low-grade and 1,900 mid-grade ore. If you wait until tomorrow, it increases by another 500 low-grade and 200 mid-grade."
Kevin was utterly speechless. His master was truly a character—frustrating yet laughable.
"I'll pay now," Kevin said, taking out the Cosmic Satchel and starting to pour out ore. Clatter, clatter, clatter... In no time, a small hill of ore formed. Markus stared, eyes wide. The main course was yet to come. After emptying the regular ore, Kevin started pouring out Fire Crystals. A single Fire Crystal could illuminate an area. So, what about hundreds? Thousands? Remember, the Fire Essence Core produced them continuously. Over ten days, he'd accumulated quite a lot! The scene now: a veritable mountain of Fire Crystals casually dumped on the ground. Markus's pipe clattered dramatically to the floor.
"Th-that... all this... you mined it?" Markus stammered.
"Obviously. Any questions?" Kevin puffed out his chest, his smug expression begging for a punch. "Master, take it all. Consider it an advance on my future dues. If there's any left when I leave this place, keep it. I just want this." Kevin clenched the Fire Essence Core tightly in his hand—his future lifeline.
Markus flicked his sleeve, and the Cosmic Satchel flew from Kevin's hand into his own. Another flick, and it was emptied.
Breakdown: 1,042 low-grade iron ore, 1,400 low-grade copper ore, 521 mid-grade aluminum ore, 213 high-grade meteoric iron, 56 high-grade tin ore, plus some special ores like Stardust Sand and Gravity Ore. The most precious was an ore called "Flowing Dust," which moved like liquid, similar to real-world mercury. Then came the crystals: 2,410 total. Two-thirds low-grade (1,606), two-ninths mid-grade (536), and roughly one-ninth high-grade (268). Kevin's jaw dropped. According to the rules: Beginner Mining = 100 low-grade ore daily; Intermediate = 50 mid-grade daily; Advanced = 10 high-grade daily. He'd thought his long mining spree would buy him some slack. Doing the math, even after paying the overdue fines, this stash would only last him about 30 days! Even though crystal quality was a full tier above regular ore, the system was ruthlessly unfair. He couldn't escape his mining fate. Besides, to leave this village, he had to complete "The Blacksmith's Legacy," which Kevin knew would require massive ore reserves.
It seemed his destiny as a miner was inescapable.
"Apprentice, you look... different. Why so pale?"
"Do I?"
"Come inside and see."
Kevin followed Markus into the inner room. The blacksmith produced a bronze mirror. Kevin looked. Indeed, his complexion was pale—almost deathly pale! He opened his mouth, revealing his teeth. Two particularly prominent canines. Kevin concentrated, willing them to shrink. In the mirror, the canines visibly receded. He ran his tongue over them. Perfect.
"Kid, explain. What took you so long, and why do you look half-ghost?"
"Master, it's a long story..." Kevin told him everything.
"Don't you want to know about that Kindred's origins?"
"You know?"
"A little."
"When I was young, I met him in that mine you described. He was younger then. Probably aged rapidly due to his injuries. You saw the bones in the cave, right? Forging isn't just about metal ores. Many things can be used—like bones. I brought some back, and the weapons too, for study. Thanks to him, reaching Grandmaster wouldn't have been possible! Back then, ignorant and fearless, I didn't realize he was a Renegade, hunting high-level angels and beastmen. But he rarely drank human blood. I wonder if he was originally human, like you, turned by the Embrace."
Kevin gritted his teeth in frustration. All those divine artifacts... and you... Unbelievable! How many artifacts were sacrificed to forge one Grandmaster?! Thankfully, he remembered the sizable stash of angel feathers and beastmen bones still in his pack, which soothed his ire slightly.
"Later, I heard the story from my father—your grandmaster—about the vampire legend passed down in our village. It's been so many years, my memory's fuzzy. But since then, I never dared go back to that mine. Life is full of regrets." Markus spoke with genuine sorrow, tobacco smoke coiling upwards, framing his weathered face.
"Apprentice, come to the backyard."
It was Kevin's first time there. The most prominent feature was a massive boulder in one corner, just taller than the wall, its surface scarred and pitted. There were also many stones of various sizes, each with a wooden handle worn smooth from countless grips, the grain clearly visible.
Kevin followed Markus to the boulder. "This is for testing blade edges. Hit it with all your strength. Remember, all your strength."
"Understood, Master." Kevin planted his feet, assumed a horse stance, fists at his waist. He pivoted his torso and unleashed a punch, the fist cutting through the air with a whoosh. It met the stone. There was no loud crash. Just... impact. Over. Kevin stood up. His right hand was a bloody mess, white bone showing through, blood flowing freely. He felt intense pain, but it was bearable. Suddenly, a wave of heat gathered inside him and surged toward his hand. The healing was visible to the naked eye. In under half a minute, his hand was completely restored. Incredible.
Markus went over to examine the imprint on the stone—a fist-sized depression sunk an inch deep into the boulder, surrounded by a web of cracks. He was profoundly shaken.
"Come here. Lift these stones. Use all your strength. Start with the heaviest."
Kevin walked to the largest stone. By sight, it weighed at least 500 pounds—massive. He grabbed the wooden handle and heaved with all his might. It didn't budge. Tried again. Still nothing. Fine. He moved to a slightly smaller one, still around 400 pounds. He tested it, felt it was possible. Sinking his weight, using his core, he lifted the stone. But he could only hold it for a few seconds before having to drop it. The stone landed solidly, denting the ground.
Markus was utterly stunned.