Surrounded by a wall of thorny bushes, with nowhere else to run, the panting duo turned to face their pursuers. A horde of Weasemin growled at them, twitching their elongated snouts at the air between them.
"So that's what's been leading them," Alan said as a large silhouette stepped out of the woods. "I knew these creatures weren't smart enough to ambush us on their own."
He glared at a large bipedal monster with red fur and an elongated neck, emerging at the rear of the horde. Its monstrous build said it could rip Alan's head off with one swipe of its enormous paws, while its lean, sinewy frame suggested it could close any distance if it needed to.
When human and monster locked eyes, the thing bared its teeth, forming a wild, malicious grin.
"Weasenox, Guardian of the Forest, huh?" Alan read the name and title the System provided, tightening his grip around his sword's hilt. "Completely different from the Slime Chief. Look at it… it's waiting for us to make the first move."
"What kind of sick joke is this? Why the sudden spike in difficulty, you bloody daft developers?!" the girl beside him hissed. "Get out of our way, you blighters! We were only looking for a Scarlet Woodcap!"
Despite their situation, Alan managed to laugh out loud. "Whoa, Astrid, your British is showing! Ha-ha-ha!"
"How can you joke at a time like this?!" she hissed, tugging at his sleeve.
"Anyway, how's your mana?" he asked quietly, his tone shifting.
She studied his determination for a moment before checking her Mana bar.
It was at 10%.
She swallowed hard before replying. "I have more than enough for whatever crazy tactic you've got in mind. I'm in, Alan."
"That Boss is blocking our only exit, right? So we've got no choice but to charge ahead."
As he spoke, Astrid pulled something from her inventory: a leather pouch manifesting out of thin air. Its contents clanked once it settled into her palm.
"Got it. I'll clear a path for you. But first, be nice and hold this for me, please?"
Alan turned just in time to catch the pouch.
"What's this?"
She grinned innocently and pointed her wooden staff forward. "Eyes up! The enemy's about to make its move!"
The Weasenox roared, signaling its minions forward.
A bright magic circle bloomed at the tip of Astrid's staff as she cast, "Mini Fire Crafting, Firebreath!"
A blazing torrent of fire roared from the tip of her staff, a continuous stream that incinerated the first wave of Weasemin and scorched a straight path toward the Boss, who stood directly in its way.
The air filled with the smell of charred meat and burned fur.
Alan did not hesitate, dashing forward. "Leave it to me! We'll have pizza once we're done with this!"
"Sure," she whispered to herself, watching her mana bar drain all the way to zero. A flicker of dizziness tried to overwhelm her, but she pushed through it.
There was no time to rest--The surviving Weasemin were already closing in.
She met the first with a horizontal bash of her staff, breaking its ribs without even blinking, as if her muscles already knew the motion before her brain caught up.
A second Weasemin lunged to flank her, but she brought the tip of the staff down like a hammer, crushing its skull without bothering to look in its direction.
Her face showed no emotion as she carried out the slaughter. Her heart rate did not even flinch.
Blood dripped from the staff meant only for casting spells.
Today was their seventh day inside the combat-oriented Novus… far too early for anyone to grow used to violence like this.
Even those who spent every waking hour hunting monsters still felt their pulse spike, their eyes lighting with bloodlust.
But not her.
This was routine—a nothing burger for a woman who had already lived through a thousand simulated battles.
And yet, she felt a flicker of anxiety watching Alan slam his shield into the Weasenox's burned chest.
The monster snarled, lifting a heavy paw to swipe.
Astrid acted on instinct. "Quick-Blaze!"
Her aim found its mark, striking the Boss clean.
"Thanks, Astrid, I owe you one!" Alan called from a distance, using the opening. His blade was not sharp enough to sever the Weasenox's paw cleanly, but it left half of it hanging by sinew, leaking blood.
Meanwhile, Astrid's vision went dark and she dropped to her knees.
Her HP bar fell 20% despite taking no damage.
She had cast a fire spell with no mana behind it. The energy had to come from somewhere.
A memory surfaced, from back when The Novus was still in its beta phase. She remembered the smirk of a Developer instructing her to cast spell after spell until her Magic Points hit zero.
"What do you think about this little side effect, Ms. Bradford? We'll call it 'Mana Cramp.' Consider it my gift… A last requiem for those brave enough to bear it…"
"Last Requiem my ass, you petulant arsehole," she muttered, gritted teeth, golden strands of hair plastered across her face as she fought to stand.
Coming back to herself, she wondered how much time she had lost. Was the battle already over?
When she looked up, she caught the exact moment the enraged Weasenox—HP down to 50%—pounced on Alan, slamming him to the ground and going for his head.
He raised his shield just in time, and when he tried to drive his sword into it, his hand got pinned beneath the monster's remaining paw.
"Alan!" she cried, lunging forward, but a pair of Weasemin blocked her path, sinking their teeth into her legs. The bite drew blood instantly. Sensing her intent, the rest formed a line between her and their Boss, as if warning her off. "Oh, for heaven's sake! Get off, you bloody—!"
"This is your chance!" Alan yelled, struggling under the Weasenox's weight, his shield the only thing keeping its jaws off his arm. "Kill them all now! Fire everything you've got!"
"You trust me that much, huh," she said hoarsely, stabbing the Weasemin biting her leg and swatting another away with a golf-club swing. She glared at the line blocking her path, then at the monster pinning Alan down. "Then I can't fail you."
She started conjuring as before. When a notification told her she had no mana left, she ignored it, feeling a faint ache spread through her fingertips. Another window flared in her vision, warning her of the danger as her staff began to heat up.
A sharp pain shot through her arms. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Her vision blurred. Dizziness crept in, urging her to stop.
"Not yet!"
Just as she felt herself about to faint, a guttural growl snapped her back—the sound of wood splintering. Alan's shield had finally lost its fight against the monster's jaws.
Hearing him scream hurt worse than any version of the Mana Cramp.
"Fine, I admit it. This 'last requiem' is a damn good tool for someone willing to pay the price." She glanced at her staff, now glowing white-hot, and smirked. "You beat me to it, Guardian of the Forest." A faint giggle escaped her. "I'd have loved to be on top of him myself…"
The staff exploded the moment the Words of Power left her lips--the stored energy bursting outward like fireworks gone rogue, raining down as fire.
The Weasemin blocking her way were the first to scatter, bolting in every direction. Even the ones guarding their Boss rushed to shield him, but it was too late, the brunt of the attack tore through it, scorching every last patch of fur from its body.
As the final magical ember struck a fleeing Weasemin, Astrid surged forward with what remained of her staff and drove it straight into the Weasenox's left eye. Blood sprayed, staining her blank face.
The dying monster let out a wail, stretching its long neck to bite her, but Alan's blade found the side of its skull first, finally ending it.
She ignored the notification congratulating her on reaching level seven and dropped to her knees beside Alan as he shoved the Weasenox's corpse aside.
"Alan!" she cried, eyes locked on the bite marks across his forearm. "Is your arm okay? Can you move it?"
"I'm perfectly fine!" he said with a grin, flexing it. "See? No need to wo—!"
He shut his eyes against the pain.
She sighed, summoning a translucent virtual window, scrolling for a moment, and pulling a bottle into existence.
"Here. Take this."
"What about you?" he asked, barely able to focus on the item in front of him. "Why don't you go first? I just need a sip, honestly."
"I said, TAKE THIS," she commanded, sharp enough to make his ears ring. "Drink the whole thing, or I'll get mad."
"Fine, fine. Thanks, Ms. Bradford," he said, snickering.
"What did you—?"
"That's what that Ronan guy called you yesterday, right? Has a nice ring to it. Like a proper English lady."
"Oh, shut it," she said, looking away.
When Alan finally managed to open the bottle, he drained it almost immediately.
"Huh? Were we that low on Red Potions?" His vision cleared, the bite marks closing rapidly. "Ah, much better now!" He turned to her. "Thanks, Astrid. You saved the day. That spell of yours was—"
His eyes widened.
Astrid's body had already gone slack beside him, swaying for a moment like a puppet with its strings cut before crumpling sideways into the grass, the color draining from her face with each passing second.
"Thank goodness you're okay." She smiled faintly. "I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Warden…"
He caught her before her head hit the ground.
"Astrid!" he yelled, finally checking her HP bar. No numbers showed, but he could swear it was sitting on a single point.
A gust of wind moved through the trees as Alan called her name, again and again.
1.1
Little by little, she regained consciousness. The first thing she noticed was the absence of dizziness. She checked her right palm, bracing for burn marks—the price of trading Life Points for magic. Instead, she found a perfectly healthy, pale hand.
"You're awake," a voice said.
It took her several seconds to realize she was being piggybacked.
"What are you doing?!" she shrieked, a sudden heat rising to her face.
"Taking you to town, obviously," he said nonchalantly. "Let's have a healer check you over first."
"NO! What I mean is, why am I still alive?!"
"I made you eat the Scarlet Woodcap."
"YOU DID WHAT?!"
The revelation made her jolt hard enough to nearly throw him off balance.
"Whoa, easy there, cowgirl!"
"WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! We spent half a day looking for it, YOU—HALFWIT!"
"If you're fine enough to insult me, you're fine enough to walk. Right?"
Astrid's eyes darted to her HP bar. 60% and green.
"Of course I can walk!"
"As you wish, Ms. Bradford."
"And don't call me that, you—!"
She was unceremoniously dropped to the ground, her butt and the tall grass softening the landing.
She was about to raise her voice again, but Alan turned on his heel, crouched in front of her, and fixed his eyes on hers.
"Why did you do it?" he asked softly. "You needed that Red Potion more than I did. You even handed me this."
He pulled the leather pouch out of his inventory.
Astrid's gold.
The penalty for dying in The Novus was a fifty percent gold loss. For beginners like them, every coin mattered.
"Ah, yes…" she muttered, struggling for words. "I… I was finished anyway, right? So I figured it'd be better to just die and respawn back at—"
"YOU IDIOT!" he yelled, headbutting her.
He had not put his full strength into it, but it still cost her five percent of her HP.
"What the hell, you arsehole?!"
"You're the asshole!" he snapped back, making her bite her lip. There was a fire in his gaze she had not seen before. "Did you really think I'd be okay with you dying on me? No way! I was hurt, sure, but I could still walk!"
"But I couldn't stand seeing you like that!" she cried, breaking into tears. "It was all my fault, remember? I was the one who suggested that bloody cave! I was the one who said we could handle those pests! I was the one who couldn't judge the danger! What's wrong with paying for my own recklessness?!"
"So throwing your life away was the right price for your mistake?"
"YES! This is a Virtual Reality, Alan! What's wrong with me sacrificing myself to save you?! I'll respawn anyway!"
Alan stared at her, taking in her scowl, the strands of golden hair stuck to her flushed cheeks, her chest rising and falling with every breath.
He exhaled. "I won't have you doing that, Astrid," he said, holding her gaze. "We're a team, remember? We move as one. Every decision you made, I had your back for. So don't you dare try to carry all the blame yourself again. Got it?"
"But…"
"And as for that 'it's just a Virtual Reality' crap…" He leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers, gently this time. His green eyes locked directly on her blue ones. "Dying is such a cheap way to escape your problems, don't you think? Here, and in the real world too. So what's even the point of getting stronger in this damn game if we can't protect each other? If you'd run out of mana, you could've just told me, and we'd have run for it!"
"So… you can't stand watching me get hurt either? Is that what you're saying?"
"Never. So next time, just trust me and be sincere with me. Got it?"
"…But you just hit me."
He winced immediately. "S-Sorry about that! And for dropping you too. Why don't you… hit me back, to make it even?"
"Wouldn't that contradict everything you just said?"
"But I'd never do that to you in the real world! I SWEAR!" He looked away and muttered under his breath, "Even though you headbutted me the first day we met outside…"
After wiping her eyes, a smirk curled onto her lips. "If you're willing to hit a lady this early into the relationship, maybe I should drop your ass right here and find a new partner. Who knows when you'll raise a hand to me again. Or worse."
"Oh, man. I really did it this time, huh?" he muttered, dropping his head. "Would letting you use me as a pack mule for the next month suffi—?"
She slammed her head into his so hard he saw stars.
Alan fell backward, eyes shut—and still watched his HP bar drop by 10%.
He squinted. The first hints of sunset colored the sky before she blocked the view.
He could not help but stare. Her impossibly cute face, plump lips, striking blue eyes, all sharpened by the Novus' avatar rendering. Even her golden bob made her look like a runaway princess.
She's already been called 'Ms. Bradford'. So who knows. Maybe she secretly is one. She's from the land of kings and queens, after all.
"Now we're even!" she said, the bruise on her own forehead paired well with her mischievous grin. "Wait, no—you don't get off that easily. Pizza, for a whole week. Deal?"
"With chocolate pudding for dessert?"
"Ooh. I like the way you make amends."
She extended her hand, helping him to his feet.
"By the way, Astrid, I've been wanting to ask. What the hell was that?! That spell was insane! You wiped the whole horde and the Boss in one go! What's it called?"
"It's something I improvised, and the System rolled with it. That's all."
"Oh, come on! It'd be a waste not to name something that awesome! At least think about it!"
"Fine!" She rolled her eyes. "It's called 'Last Requi'—No. 'Death from Above.'"
He grimaced.
"Rejected. Something more romantic would suit it better. Like, 'Shooting Stars of Justice'? Hmm?"
"Whatever. Have it your way."
Still holding hands, they looked into each other's eyes before closing the distance—him leaning down, her rising on her toes—and kissed, softly.
Their first kiss, seven digital days into dating.