Chapter 50: The Toll War (Part Two)

Not long after I parted ways with Niu Million, news of the impending arrival of the Withered Lands swept across every corner of the continent of Falvi. It was as if overnight, everyone became aware that our homeland was once again about to endure a baptism of blood and fire. Yet, somewhat reassuringly, these young warriors—who had pledged to defend their home and resist the invaders—did not shrink from the might of the enemy. On the contrary, their spirits burned even brighter, and they seemed almost impatient for those wicked foes to appear, eager to prove their valor and glory with the enemy's demise.

As with every odd event on this continent, the Traversers—those who travel between planes—gave the End Times Empire's invasion a peculiar and novel term: "server merger." From what I could gather, this so-called "server" was perhaps what we would normally call a "parallel plane." The arrival of the Withered Lands broke the barriers between worlds and joined our realm to theirs, meaning the two "servers" had now merged.

In truth, for the many traversing adventurers walking these lands, the End Times Empire's invasion was not the gravest concern. At least, as far as I knew, there was something far more serious to them:

Paid Operation!

I first heard this utterly foreign phrase from two traversers I did not know, who were walking ahead of me toward the weapons shop. Along the way, the gnome rogue complained bitterly to his dwarf ranger companion, “This Saturday, Darrimos Company is going paid. Only two months of free beta, and now they’re already trying to rake in the cash. They’re money-crazy, I swear.”

The dwarf seemed more composed. He sighed and said, “If they want to charge, let them. Worst case, I just stop playing. Paid games are just Darrimos’s way of grabbing cash. There are so many free games now—if not this one, there’s always another.”

Hearing this, the gnome lost his bluster, drooping his head and muttering, “Fine, let them charge. It’s true, though, this is the only game with such realistic feedback. Nothing else feels as immersive anymore. After playing this, everything else just seems fake and boring.”

But the dwarf’s decision was quite the opposite: “I won’t play again. Spending money on games isn’t worth it. I’d rather use the money to buy my wife a new dress.”

“What, you’re already married?” the gnome asked in surprise.

“Married? My mother-in-law probably hasn't even been born yet…”

“So why are you buying a wife dresses?”

“Precisely because I don’t have a wife yet, I need to save up so I can buy clothes for my future wife. You have to be prepared. When you already have a wife, who bothers anymore? Have you ever seen a fool bait a fish he’s already caught?”

His words left the gnome rogue sweating nervously, and he forced a bitter smile, raising his thumb in admiration. “Wise words, truly wise… Well then, I’ll take my leave here and wish you a speedy find—a wife to help you spend that money…”

At this point, I turned off onto a side street. I didn’t fully grasp what they were talking about, but from their conversation, it seemed that this “paid operation” would put up many new barriers for traversers wishing to visit this plane. Many might never return for this reason alone, and this decision, it turned out, came not from anyone else, but from our omnipresent and omnipotent Supreme God, Darrimos.

Later, what I saw and heard only confirmed my suspicions. More and more people complained that “paid operation” had come too soon and that the fees were too steep, vowing never to return to the continent of Falvi.

I have no idea who exactly is charging these free travelers through time and space, nor what they are “operating.” All I know is that these four seemingly ordinary words have become like scalding oil poured over the land, sending the entire continent into an uproar, filling hearts with fear and uncertainty. For a land about to face a formidable enemy, this is hardly good news. I can only say that, for the Supreme God to assert his authority in this manner at such a time, it was truly ill-chosen.

That “paid” could pose a greater threat than “war,” driving so many to leave and cutting off their hope of ever returning to Falvi—this was something I could never have imagined. In my shock, a ludicrous thought occurred to me—what if this was applied to the invading End Times Empire?

Suppose every traverser who crossed into Falvi had to pay a hefty toll. If our Supreme God Darrimos built a “toll station” on every road from the Withered Lands to the continent, charging by the head for the invading army, the End Times King Darrantil’s forces would be bankrupt before even a tenth of them made it through. If that were possible, the very name “Falvi” would be enough to send those evil creatures fleeing in terror, clutching their purses rather than talking of invasion.

Alas, such dreams are nothing but fantasies.

As time went on, more and more news arrived about the End Times Empire’s invasion. At first, we learned only that the Withered Lands would appear in the southeastern Comet Sea, forming a vast new island. Soon after, we heard that, on the second day of the Withered Lands’ arrival, the invading army would use a massive magic portal to reach deep into Falvi, straight to the Vida Basin. Since the Vida Basin was lightly defended, the United Continental Army ordered all garrisons to retreat to the Stormcloud Fortress to halt the enemy’s advance eastward. Immediately, every nation and race issued urgent summons, calling all adventurers above level forty to assist the continental army and reach Stormcloud Fortress before battle commenced, to join in the first fight against the End Times invaders.

This call to arms sparked an unprecedented surge of leveling across the continent. In the past, there were always a few quiet days every couple of weeks, as most traversers took time to rest and prepare for their next adventure. But after this summons, those who chose to stay on Falvi, undeterred by the paid operation, went into a frenzy. For days and nights at a stretch, they appeared tirelessly in this world, slaying monsters until their limbs cramped and completing quests until their hands grew numb.

During that time, the streets were crowded with traversers whose eyes were vacant, steps unsteady, and faces dazed. They looked utterly exhausted, as if they might collapse at any moment. Yet, at the mere sight of beasts or demons lurking in forests or caves, or the minions of the End Times King, they would instantly become energized, hurling themselves into battle with wild fervor, not stopping until every foe was slain and their souls absorbed for strength and levels. Those under level forty fought desperately to make the cut for this glorious first battle, while those above strove for even greater strength and feats, hoping to earn greater merit on the battlefield.

I, too, accepted the mission to defend the city of Haidel. I replaced several pieces of armor and other equipment, purchased a large supply of potent healing potions, and prepared myself thoroughly for the coming fight.

Before long, the day of battle arrived quietly amid our tension and anticipation…

(While my parents keep vigil at the hospital, I am alone at home, anxious and unable to write a thing.

I received notice from my editor—perhaps the book will be published tomorrow. I can only smile bitterly: so many things always seem to happen at once.

Updates shouldn’t be greatly affected; I still have nearly two hundred thousand words in reserve, enough for a while yet.

I napped briefly this evening and dreamed of my grandfather looking at me with a gaze full of unrecognition. I awoke with a start, tears streaming down my face.

May 11th, 2008—a solitary night, and I am very afraid. So afraid, so afraid…

PS: Thank you, dear readers, for your well wishes regarding my grandfather’s illness. At this moment, I am at a loss, and all I can do is say, “thank you”…

PPS: I almost forgot. I wish all my readers and your families good health. The more people sincerely wish it, the more people can share in this blessing.)