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strength, perception, endurance and agility have been calculated based on the parameters of your real body. Your charisma is based on an analysis of your personality type. Intellect is based on corresponding testing. Since luck cannot be calculated objectively, it is based on your character’s luck stat in Disgardium.

I listened to the monotonous explanations and then tried to skip the intro or look around, but I couldn’t see any control buttons and had no body. Just pure consciousness in a cold and endless vacuum…

As if reading my thoughts, the system brought up a message on the edge of view:

Demonic Games starting in: 09:14… 09:13…

 

Please be patient! Location generating.

 

That meant it was pointless to hurry for the portal and try to get there before the others. I mentally addressed the system and asked it to tell me what my stats influenced. What was charisma good for, for example? There weren’t even any quests.

“Charisma influences discounts offered by the merchants of the Cursed Chasm.”

“Strength?”

“Strength influences the contestant’s physical base damage, carrying capacity and defense. In addition, special equipment and weaponry requires high strength.”

“Makes sense. A weedy mage in plate armor would be kind of unfair,” I said, continuing the inner dialog. “That always bothered me in Dis.”

“This limitation existed in the first years,” the system answered, as if it was a sentient creature. “However, over time, even the non-combat classes achieved the required amount of strength. There is no direct block on wearing heavy equipment, but a range of epic and legendary items can be used only by specific classes. Would you like me to describe the other stats?”

“Go ahead!”

“Perception affects your visual acuity, attentiveness, ability to see hidden things and critical hit chance. Endurance affects your total health, the rate at which you spend vigor and your health restoration rate. Intellect affects your total mana and its regeneration speed, and your spellcasting speed. Agility affects your movement speed, attack speed, dodge and critical damage. And, finally, luck!” the voice declared triumphantly. “I do not know a single property of this characteristic that can affect anything whatsoever!”

“Tell that to Fortune…” I thought in annoyance.

“What?”

“Nothing. So luck doesn’t even change my loot?”

“All loot is generated with this version of the Cursed Chasm. It does not matter who picks it up.”

At the mention of loot, I remembered the class penalty on my inventory: -90% inventory volume. That could be a problem in the Games…

“By the way, which bag do I start with?”

“Contestants begin with the standard version, with sixteen slots. However, your Treasure Hunter’s Bag is bound to your soul and will remain with you.

“Great!” I sighed in relief. “Back to luck. What’s the stat good for then?”

“That is a great mystery,” the mechanical voice answered. “I surmise that this stat may be used when generating rewards for the best and worst contestants of the day.”

“Isn’t Octius the one who hands them out? In the real world?”

“Only on opening day. All the following rewards will be determined at random and applied to the contestant in the Cursed Chasm.”

“How do I raise my stats?”

“Each time you level up, your character gets one free point to spend and another one point for class characteristics. For the Herald class, this means charisma and luck. In addition, it is prudent to…”

Just great. I could tell I was going to end the Games with a huge imbalance — charming and lucky, but weak, frail and clumsy.

The voice, which had almost seemed to be taking on emotion, cut off, then turned wooden again:

“Attention! Starting in three… two… one… Good luck and have fun, contestant!”

Chapter 6. Against The Rest

I MATERIALIZED at a great height, standing in place, and then the earth began to rush up to meet me. My heart in my real body skipped a few beats.

You’re not supposed to look down at times like those, but I lowered my eyes: below me was an isle of land floating in the impenetrable mist. As the land zoomed up, grew larger, I began to make out a village. To its side lay a massive hole in the land with square edges. The village was surrounded on its other sides by a forest whose edges simply disappeared into the great nothing. I judged the Cursed Chasm to be around six miles wide by nine long. I didn’t know why the Games needed so much space; the whole zone apart from the Pitfall was peaceful and mob-free.

Suddenly, the interface appeared: bars for my health, mana and spirit (although what good would that be if I didn’t have any skills?) and a half-filled experience bar. That was so my first death wouldn’t be final. The penalties for death here were like in the Nether — die at level zero and you’re out of the running.

I looked around and saw the others — almost four hundred contestants in free fall. Like paratroopers over a theater of war! Magic replaced the parachutes — just before I hit the surface, I was suddenly slowed and dropped gently on my feet.

The locals stared at us open-mouthed. I saw them not long before I landed, and then I found myself in a crowd — the magical landing had bunched the contestants shoulder to shoulder on a rutted tract of land. An orc standing with his back to me turned, jerking his elbow and hitting me in the nose. He did me no damage, but it hurt.

“Hey!” I cried out. Careful!”

I blinked away tears, saw that it was a young orc woman. Her eyes were wide. Opening her fang-filled mouth, she shouted and pointed at me:

“The Threat! Scyth’s here!”

“Scyth’s here! Everyone this way!” came shouts from all around. “The Threat!”

I had no chance with the Cursed Cripple debuff. I was surrounded and put down. I resisted, of

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