Book 2: Chapter 8: Patch 2.0: The Wolf and the Serpent

Fenrir knows that he should be sleeping. The tournament takes place in two days in-game, but by reality’s time, it is tomorrow. Though, it will only be the opening ceremony on the first day of the four-day tournament.

Yet, instead of sleeping, he finds himself taking The Shoebill out for a nighttime cruise to what has become their usual fishing spot behind that basically-useless tower of cannons.

“You do an excellent job steering your ship, my hero,” Nehalennia says.

“It’s pretty easy. Want to try?” Fenrir asks her.

She perks up and does an excited little hop. “May I?”

As proper and refined as she tries behaving, she reminds him of an excited little kid at moments like this.

Fenrir beckons her over. “Stand here,” he says, pointing to where he was just standing behind the steering wheel.

Nehalennia stands where ordered and looks at the wheel. “Is there a particular way I should handle it?” she asks.

He grabs her hands by her wrists, his taller figure standing directly behind her smaller one, and places her hands on the wheel. “If you want the ship to turn right, you spin the wheel this way,” he demonstrates by moving her hands for her, “and left, you turn it the opposite way.”

“How do I stop it?”

“Right now, we’re just using the wind instead of Tab’s engine, so we’ll have to use one of Tab’s other new inventions. See that pedal?” he asks, pointing down at a small pedal sticking up from the deck on the left side of the steering wheel. It has what looks like a mechanical pulley system running from it to the top of The Shoebill’s mast. “Step on it when I tell you to.”

“Aye, captain!” Nehalennia says with a wide smile and cutesy salute.

The Shoebill eventually reaches the shadow of the tower. It is almost pitch dark in the shadow of the tower as it completely eclipses the moon.

Fortunately, The Shoebill has a few lanterns scattered about on the deck which are lit and providing light. “Alright, press on the pedal,” Fenrir orders her.

“Aye!” Nehalennia presses her foot down on it. Tabitha’s system comes to life as the rope connected from the pedal to the top of the mast automatically pulls in the ship’s sails in a matter of seconds. Nehalennia claps out of praise for the engineer. “I know that there are those in this game who try to push technology to its limit, but I have never seen a single person – especially a fellow woman, achieve something like this on her own!”

“Yeah, she’s a smart one. That pedal on the right there will unfurl the sails when you press on it, and this lever,” he points at the lever on the stand that the wheel is connected to, “turns the engine on. When it’s down like this, it’s off. The more you pull up on it, the stronger the engine runs. I’d demonstrate, but even with just a little bit of power, that engine is loud. Don’t want to disturb everybody sleeping.”

“Ah, yes, I would not want them to lose their Rested bonuses. However, it is truly remarkable that she has come up with so many elaborate systems! This is similar to what automobiles of old were like, is it not? You have the ‘brake’ pedal, the ‘gas’ pedal, and a ‘stick’ for gears!”

“It’s crazy to think that teens have no idea what any of those are now. I actually got to drive a car once back when I was a teen.”

“Really? You did?” Nehalennia looks at him with excited interest.

“Yep. Back when everybody had to trade their manual vehicles in, my dad let me take his car out for a drive around the neighborhood before trading it in. It’s weird to think I’m probably one of the only guys my age who has ever driven a car before,” Fenrir explains, placing his hands on the steering wheel. He can still remember what the leather grip of the car’s wheel felt like in his hands as well as how the tobacco-stained interior smelled.

“My father probably would have allowed me to do so as well, but I could not. It is why I am so attached to this body and why I refuse to abandon it. This body – this form, allows me to do what would otherwise be impossible for me. I would feel wrong abandoning it for a new one, especially considering the fact that it has been blessed.”

“I know the feeling. I’ve got some uhh, leg problems in real life, so I love this body I’ve got here. It’s everything I’m not in reality, and I get attached easily, so I don’t think I could just abandon Fenrir no matter what sort of shit he gets stuck in,” he says. While he normally wouldn’t talk about this sort of topic, especially with somebody whom he has only just met, he just feels like the two of them can relate to one another.

He figures out why that is.

“You too?!” Nehalennia asks, standing in front of him and looking up at his face. “So, we are the same?”

“Maybe?” Fenrir answers, head tilted.

Nehalennia steps back and lifts up her dress, showing her legs up to her thighs. The backs of her calves are lined by short and thin fins, and the skin itself is covered in scales. “My legs do not work in real life. Exoskeletons can help to a small degree, but most of the time, I am left in a wheelchair. This game allows me to experience that which I have always wanted to. I may swim, jump, run, and I can even,” she pauses to jump up into the air. The wing-like fins on her back flutter and keep her in the air for a few moments before dropping her back down to the deck. “Do you understand why I refuse to leave this body behind? No matter what, I wish for nothing more than to stay in this body. Even if it means being bound to a life of living as a trophy, if it means getting to stay within this body, I would happily submit.”

“I’m – I can still use my legs, but they’re full of plates and screws. I have to use exoskeleton braces to walk around for any long time,” he says. “Sorry, hearing what you had to say, I feel pretty selfish. I’m sorry that you have to deal with that.”

“It is no worry, my hero. I have accepted both my life in reality as well as my life in this world. Besides, I do love my tragedy. Is being a wheelchair-bound girl whose only escape from reality a game where she is treated as a slave not tragic?” Nehalennia asks with a smile.

If she’s able to smile in this situation, there is no reason why Fenrir can’t join her. “Yeah, it’s tragic alright. Anyways, you said you always get caught. How? I would think that you can probably swim way better than most, and if you can even fly a little bit, how are you always caught?” he asks her.

“A man named after the god of hunting is going to know how to track and capture his prey.”

“That’s a fair point. Hey, want to try fishing?” he asks, switching to a less serious subject as he's been asking her plenty of questions ever since they first arrived at The Shoebill.

Nehalennia replies with her usual excited smile and nod of the head.

Hearing everything that she had to say about her legs, accepting her lives, and refusing to leave this body of hers behind to create a new character only inspires Fenrir to protect her even more than he was already resolved to. This innocent girl who simply wishes to live a life in-game where she is able to escape the confines of reality deserves to be free.

Ull may not be that horrible of a man. He does not force himself upon his harem, he does not cause them harm, he donates to charities for animals, and he sounded like a nice and average guy when hearing him talk up close. Yet, he captures girls and then keeps such a tight leash on them that they are unable to live and play how they want to. Even if he treats them nicely, he does not allow them the basic freedoms that every single player in this world deserves to have.

Knowing that Ull is doing this to somebody in a situation such as Nehalennia’s is what fuels Fenrir to despise Ull just as much as when he first laid eyes on him.

By Fenrir’s logic, only a massive asshole deserving of getting ruined would ever do something like this to Nehalennia – to anybody.

They have a plan already. Win the tournament, cause a distraction by hijacking one of the city’s cliffside cannons to blast away Ull’s ship, and escape with Nehalennia and the rest of Ull’s harem – well, maybe not those who want to be there.

Yet, the plan is no longer any good. It would put the lives of everybody in the city at risk if it goes as well as it is supposed to. Real lives are at stake. Others may not consider the lives of NPCs to be real, but Fenrir does.

He will not do anything that seriously puts a life at risk. Therefore, he needs a new plan.

“My hero?” Nehalennia asks, looking up at him with a concerned expression.

“Sorry, was thinking about something,” Fenrir answers.

“May I ask what?”

“Just… how I’m going to save you, the other girls Ull has enslaved, and do it all without putting any lives at risk. I know for a fact that I could do it if I wasn’t so worried about the NPCs in this city.”

“You worry for the lives of those most deem insignificant?”

“They’re living and breathing members of this world just like the rest of us are.”

“You truly are a hero, my hero.”