Battle for the Nether Page 3

  Crafter grunted and followed, sprinting as fast as his little legs would carry him. Weaving his way along the shallow ravine, Gameknight led his friend away from the spiders, staying out of sight for as long as possible. As they ran, they glanced over their shoulders for the fuzzy black monsters that would eventually appear behind them. Staying hidden like this would likely confuse them for a while, but once they were spotted, the race would be on. After a few minutes, the ravine ended and they had to climb another hill. When they reached the peak, Gameknight looked over his shoulder.

  Oh no!

  The spiders were heading straight toward them, and had closed the distance. Now the monsters were maybe 70 blocks behind them and getting closer. Spiders were faster than people in Minecraft, and eventually the two creatures would catch them.

  “RUN!” Gameknight shouted as he started to sprint.

  Using all his strength, he tore off across the plains, running directly away from the two monsters. Glancing behind, he could see the two monstrosities heading straight for them, their multiple eyes glowing bright. Excited clicking sounds could be heard as the spiders closed the distance, their toothy maws gnashing together in anticipation.

  “You doing OK?” Gameknight asked his companion.

  “Yeah, just not sure how long I can keep this up.”

  Glancing to the spiders again, Gameknight could see that they were now only 50 blocks away. Sunlight reflected off one of their claws, making it sparkle in the distance. It brought back memories of his dream—all of those spider claws reaching out to him out of the mist. He shuddered and ran on.

  Cresting a small hill, they started to descend into a narrow valley, and at the bottom of that valley was what they desperately needed—a tree.

  “Crafter, the tree.”

  “I see it,” the young NPC replied. “What do you want to do?”

  “We have to release your hands or else we have no chance of fighting off these two monsters. Get ready.”

  When they reached the tree, Gameknight pulled out his pick and started tearing into the wooden trunk. With four hits, a chunk of the tree burst, a block of wood going into his inventory. Four more hits and another block appeared. Dropping his pick, he instantly started to craft, changing the blocks of wood into wooden planks, then forming a crafting bench. Placing the crafting bench on the ground, he looked up at the hill; there were no spiders . . . yet, but he could feel them coming, gnawing away at his courage.

  He motioned for Crafter to come near, and the NPC approached the bench. His arms were still linked across his chest, his hands hidden in opposite sleeves. That was how all the villagers were designed, except for when they were building things—crafting, as it was called in Minecraft. Only a village crafter had free hands, and here on this server, Crafter had no village; he was just another NPC.

  When he was close enough to the crafting bench, his arms suddenly separated, and he started to craft, his hands a blur of creativity and purpose. While he was crafting, Gameknight hammered away at the bench, smashing away at it with his pickaxe. The square bench shattered under the assault, splinters flying in all directions, but Crafter’s hands remained free. It was something they’d learned on the last server; break the crafting bench while an NPC was crafting, and their hands would remain separated and able to do things, like grip the handle of a sword. It had been the secret that enabled Gameknight and Crafter to defeat the mobs on the last server, and he was sure it would be critical in this world as well.

  “Quick, give me the wood,” Crafter said as he started to craft.

  Gameknight tossed his friend some wood, then glanced up to the hill; he could feel the spiders getting closer. His skin started to itch as more images of curved claws tearing into his body flashed through his mind.

  I have to get out of here, he thought. I’ve gotta go.

  “I’m going to make a sword,” Crafter said. “I’ll be ready in just a minute, then I can . . .”

  Crafter paused for a moment as he watched Gameknight run back up the hill.

  “Gameknight, where are you going? Are you running to meet the spid—”

  Crafter stopped speaking as the User-that-is-not-a-user glanced over his shoulder at his friend, fear and panic ruling his mind. The memory of all those spiders attacking him on the last server, their black curved claws slashing at him, bright fangs reaching out for his flesh . . . it was as if it were happening all over again. And now there were two more coming to finish the job.

  I’ve gotta get out of here . . . they’re coming . . . they’re coming.

  Gameknight ran up the hill and stopped. He could see the spiders coming fast, now only maybe 20 blocks away. Taking off to the left, he sprinted away from the deadly spiders. He wanted to glance back at his friend, but shame and guilt kept him looking straight ahead.

  I’m so afraid; I won’t be any help to him. I’ll just be in the way and probably make things worse. The words sounded hollow within Gameknight’s mind, within his soul, but he continued to run.

  As he sprinted, he could still hear the deadly clicking sound from behind. Turning his head as he ran, he saw both spiders following him and closing fast. They were only 10 blocks behind him now. He could see their multiple angry eyes glowing bright.

  Fear shot through his veins like bolts of lightning, lighting up every nerve.

  They’re both chasing me . . . oh no! he thought. At least Crafter will be safe . . . maybe.

  Glancing over his shoulder, he could see their sharp mandibles snapping together in anticipation of their next meal . . . him. The realization that he’d have to turn and fight soon made him shake with fear.

  Sprinting as fast as he could, Gameknight snatched another glance over his shoulder. He could see that the spiders were running side-by-side. If he turned to fight, he’d have to battle them both simultaneously. He couldn’t survive that. So instead, he bolted off to the left, letting the spiders close the distance but also forcing them in a single file line, one behind the other. Turning around, he drew his sword in a fluid motion and, holding it out in front of him, waited for the first spider to close the distance.

  When it was within reach, he stopped and let the spider’s momentum bring it near. He slashed with his wooden sword. Two quick hits resonated through his blade, the spider flashing red. Running backward again, he dodged a black curved claw. It whistled past his ear . . . that was close. Swinging again, he struck at its forward leg, then lunged for its head. He landed a strong blow, and the creature flashed red again. But this time, it followed with a leaping attack. Pain erupted along Gameknight’s side as the spider’s claw found flesh. Reaching to his side with his free hand, he found no blood, just a torn shirt. That’s how it was in Minecraft—no blood and guts, just damage to your health points (HP).

  Shaking his head in an attempt to drive away the echoes of pain, he continued to run backward, slashing at the spider at every opportunity. The creature landed more devastating blows . . . more flashes of pain . . . more HP gone.

  He was losing this battle.

  The spider lunged again. This time, Gameknight leaped straight up into the air, causing the arachnid’s attack to miss. He landed directly on top of the beast. Hacking downward with his sword, he killed the monster just as the second spider reached out and struck him in the back. The first creature disappeared with a pop, leaving behind a bit of spider web and three glowing balls of experience points (XP). The balls of XP flowed into his inventory as he turned to face the second enemy. He knew he didn’t have enough HP to fight this last spider, but if he were to die here, then at least he’d die fighting rather than acting like a coward.

  “Come on you eight-legged beast . . . you wanna dance . . . come on and get some,” he yelled.

  Just as the creature was about to attack, a battle cry filled the air.

  “FOR MINECRAFT!”

  It was Crafter.

  The spider flashed red, then flashed red again and again as Crafter attacked it from the rear. The creature
turned to face the small NPC, but as it turned, Gameknight moved in and attacked, landing decisive blow after blow. It turned back to face the User-that-is-not-a-user. Crafter attacked, then Gameknight, then Crafter, until the monster’s HP expired and the fuzzy beast disappeared, leaving behind more spider web and spheres of glowing XP.

  “You did it,” Crafter exclaimed. “That was a brilliant idea, leading them away so that I could finish crafting a sword. You were very brave.”

  Brave, what a joke, Gameknight thought to himself. I’m just a coward, a hollow shell . . . I’m nothing. He thinks I’m a hero, but I’m not. How am I supposed to save this server . . . or save Minecraft when I’m not even brave enough to face two spiders . . . I’m pathetic.

  The young NPC patted him on the shoulder, his wise old eyes filled with respect.

  “THE USER-THAT-IS-NOT-A-USER IS HERE!” Crafter screamed as loud as he could. “YOU HEAR THAT, MONSTERS?”

  The NPC’s words flowed out across the landscape, the gentle rolling hills letting them travel unabated, but then an echo returned from the right.

  “You hear that?” Crafter asked. “An echo. What could have made it?”

  “Let’s see.”

  The duo ran up the next small hill to find the source of the echo, and were grateful at what they found. It was their salvation—a village, the thing they’d been searching for these past few weeks. But this village had the look of death about it: homes blown apart by creeper explosions, doors shattered by zombie fists. It was just like those other three villages they had come upon; an empty, shattered village. Huge craters dotted the landscape, places where creepers had detonated themselves, their explosive ends taking with them as many innocent souls as possible. Arrows could be seen lodged in the few walls that still stood, many also embedded in the ground, as if sprouted from tiny seeds. Skeleton archers had taken their vengeance on the living inhabitants. None of them could have survived this onslaught. It was a terrible scene to behold, but worse than the destruction was the sound—or the lack of it; there was nothing. Complete silence. There wasn’t a living soul within this village. Gameknight’s heart sank, his glimmer of excitement replaced with panic and fear.

  “It’s begun for sure . . . the war,” he said solemnly.

  Crafter sighed. “It appears so,” the young NPC said.

  Holding his sword tightly with his blocky hand, Gameknight led the way down toward the village.

  CHAPTER 3

  SURVIVORS

  T

  hey approached the village slowly. Destruction was everywhere: Buildings had been blown apart, doors were shattered, and homes were burned to the ground. The village was completely devastated. Dark tendrils of smoke curled into the air across the village from fires still burning. Gameknight could feel the heat from darkened patches of ground where homes had once stood, the charred earth looking somehow sick and diseased. He stopped and looked at his friend.

  “This must have just happened,” Gameknight said, his voice shaking with fear. “Look, some of the places are still smoking.”

  Crafter just grunted a response as his blue eyes surveyed the damage.

  “I don’t have a good feeling about this,” the young NPC said. He looked around the devastated village and sighed. “We have to find some help or we’ll fail here.”

  “We won’t fail,” Gameknight said, trying to sound confident, though the fear in his voice betrayed him. “Remember, we saved the people on the last server. We should be able to save them on this server too.”

  “We didn’t save them, Gameknight, not yet. We only delayed things.” Crafter walked around a crater in the ground, the center of the hole smoldering with heat. “I can feel that the Source is just past this server plane. If we don’t stop them here, then everyone will be at risk, even my friends and family back in my village.”

  And mine as well, Gameknight thought.

  “We have to stop the monsters here, on this server, or all is lost,” Crafter said. “It’s my responsibility.”

  “It’s our responsibility,” Gameknight said, trying to ease the tension in his friend.

  He could see creases of worry etched in Crafter’s face; his unibrow furled and strained, and began to worry for his friend.

  Would the weight of this responsibility be too much for Crafter? Gameknight thought, as it is for me. No, Crafter is strong and confident. He’s like an adult even though he looks like a kid on this server. He can take the pressure. He can do it . . . but can I?

  Sighing, Gameknight gripped his sword firmly, and continued walking, peering into shadows and darkened buildings with trepidation, the jaws of fear snapping at him from within. Shaking slightly, he moved to one home that was partially destroyed and collected some of the wood and stone blocks that floated on the ground, then quickly made a new crafting bench and more stone tools.

  Sighing with relief, he handed his friend a stone sword, as well as other stone tools: a pickaxe, a shovel, an axe . . . Now they were a real duo.

  “How does that feel?” he asked.

  “Better,” Crafter replied as he swung the stone sword through the air. “I seem to feel better these days when I have a strong sword in my hand . . . unfortunately.”

  Gameknight tossed his own wooden sword to the ground and pulled out the new stone sword he’d just made. Looking about the village, he scanned the area with a keen eye. He could almost hear the screams of terror from the inhabitants as their village was ravaged; the feelings of panic and fear for loved ones still echoed through the cluster of destroyed buildings. Gameknight could somehow sense those feelings of terror, the hopeless despair that had flooded across this village. But there was something strange about the destruction. Not all of the buildings were destroyed. In fact, some of them remained completely untouched. Crafter pointed out some of these pristine buildings, gesturing with his new sword.

  Gameknight would have been curious about this if he wasn’t so scared.

  “Come, follow me,” Crafter commanded. “Watch our backs.”

  He swallowed, fear nibbling at his senses, then followed the small boy as his eyes darted over his shoulder, looking for threats.

  They moved quickly through the village, starting from the outer buildings then gradually moving inward, toward the center. The wooden homes at the edge of the village were completely destroyed, some of them just large craters in the ground, with cubes of wood, stone, and dirt floating where the buildings had once stood. When they circled around the other side of the town, they were shocked at what they found.

  “Look at this, Crafter. The homes on this side of the village are completely untouched,” Gameknight said, curiosity replacing fear for a moment as he peered into windows and open doors.

  “It’s as if the monsters never even came to this side,” Crafter said softly, more to himself than to his companion. “Why would they do that?”

  “Maybe there were chased away?”

  “No,” Crafter answered. “There is no sign of battle, just creeper explosions and zombie-shredded doors . . . and only on one side of the village . . . why?”

  Crafter went into a few of the homes while Gameknight stayed outside, on guard, searching for anything that would help, especially food. They investigated building after building as they moved through the village, and found nothing but empty dwellings. Crafter was getting more worried with every deserted home.

  “Where do you think the villagers went?” he asked, his own fear subsiding a bit.

  “I don’t think they were killed,” Crafter yelled from the back room of another deserted house. “They must have gone somewhere . . . but where?”

  Gameknight thought back to his first trip to Crafter’s village after he’d been pulled into the game. The village has been filled with NPCs . . . with life . . . and at the time with monsters as well. That battle had been the first of many; his first test under fire. And the next day, the Mayor had taken him to see Crafter deep underground in the . . .

  “I know . . . undergrou
nd, in the crafting chamber.”

  “Of course, the crafting chamber,” Crafter said as he stepped out of the doorway and into the sunlight.

  Every village had a large chamber built deep underground, where all the crafting for Minecraft was done, hidden from users and monsters. Connected to the crafting chamber would be a complex rail network on which minecarts moved, ferrying the crafted goods throughout the digital world. This would be the only safe place for the villagers.

  Heading toward the center of the village, they passed from the pristine, untouched section to the devastated part of the village again. The remnants of walls stood, still smoldering, marking the outlines of homes, burn marks slashed across the wood.

  What could have burned these walls? Gameknight thought. Creepers don’t burn things . . . they just blow them apart.

  This question nagged at the User-that-is-not-a-user. It seemed important, but was lost within the cloud of fear that filled his mind. Smoke bellowed from a few still-burning homes; their interiors consumed by flame. The heat from these fiery wrecks hammered at the duo as they passed, causing small, square beads of sweat to form on their faces. The acrid smoke from the burning structures bit at the back of Gameknight’s throat, making him cough as he moved through the village. It cast a gray, hazy pall across the village, coloring everything with a dull and dirty hue.

  At the center of every village, there always stood a tall stone tower that loomed high above the rooftops of the other buildings, with a watchman usually stationed at the top; he was a lookout for monsters. In the distance, they could still see this tower standing tall, but as they neared it, Gameknight could see pieces of the stone sentinel were missing. Sprinting past more torn-up and smoking buildings, he and Crafter streaked toward the structure. They jumped over piles of rubble and around craters, their eyes cast upward, focused on the remains of the tall building that was still standing vigil.

  When they reached it, they were shocked at what they found. A huge chunk of the building was completely gone, the base and side torn away as if some gigantic beast had taken a bite out of the tower and left a huge, gaping wound in its side.