Chapter 1: The Lord’s Trial

Chapter 1: The Lord's Trial

The world had been buzzing about it for months. Billboards flashed across cities, social media was flooded with teasers, and every major gaming channel was covering the upcoming release. Deepforge Saga, the first true VRMMORPG where players could live an entirely different life, was launching at midnight.

Murtagh Morningstar leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping a cup of coffee while watching the holographic news feed. The sleek projection displayed a panel of analysts discussing the significance of the game's launch.

"Experts are calling it the biggest technological breakthrough in immersive gaming," the reporter stated. "Deepforge Saga offers players two distinct paths: Adventurer Mode, where players can explore, complete quests, and uncover the secrets of the underground world, or Lord Mode, where players can build, rule, and lead their own underground kingdoms."

Melissa, his younger sister, entered the room, tying her dark hair into a ponytail. "You're really going all in on this, huh?" she said, grabbing an energy drink from the fridge.

Murtagh smirked. "You're acting like this isn't the most important launch in gaming history."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Everyone's talking about it. They even shut down classes tomorrow because half the school's going to be playing." She took a sip and leaned against the counter. "So, which side are you choosing? Adventurer or Lord?"

Murtagh gave her a look. "Lord, obviously."

Melissa scoffed, shaking her head with an amused smirk. "Of course. You always have to be in charge, don't you?" Her voice carried a mix of playful teasing and exasperation, as if she had long accepted her brother's unrelenting ambition.

"Ruling an underground city, leading armies, and managing resources? That's real power." He crossed his arms. "While you're out there chasing side quests, I'll be building an empire."

Melissa chuckled. "You do know most Lord players fail, right? I read that the first month is brutal. Most people don't even survive the first few weeks."

"That's because they don't plan ahead," Murtagh said, smirking. "I've been studying everything about the game. The mechanics, the economy, even NPC interactions. If I play it right, I'll be one of the strongest Lords by the time everyone else is still figuring out how to build walls."

She raised an eyebrow. "So, what's the goal? World domination?"

Murtagh chuckled, finishing his coffee. "Something like that."

Melissa shook her head with a grin. "Well, good luck, King Murtagh. Try not to get wiped out in the first week."

He smirked. "Not a chance."

Midnight: The Game Begins

The login screen hovered before Murtagh like a gateway to another world. A deep metallic voice echoed through his headset, "Welcome to Deepforge Saga." The words pulsed in a rhythmic glow, anticipation tightening in his chest. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart hammer in excitement. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for.

He reached out, selecting Lord Player Mode, bypassing the more common Adventurer Mode that most players would choose. As his fingers confirmed the selection, the screen darkened, and a weightless sensation engulfed him.

When his vision cleared, he stood in a vast, dimly lit cavern. The air smelled of damp stone and fresh earth, and the flickering glow of luminous stones embedded in the ceiling simulated a sky of shifting colors. Towering stalactites hung like jagged fangs, casting eerie shadows across the cavern floor. A lone obsidian throne sat atop a rough-hewn stone dais, its edges glimmering with ancient engravings, pulsing faintly with mystical energy. The air itself carried a weight, a silent promise of power for those who proved worthy.

A voice, deep and authoritative, filled the cavern. "Lord Candidate detected. The trial begins now. Survive the siege. Rule or perish."

Phase One: The Goblin Horde

The heavy gates across the cavern burst open, revealing a tide of snarling goblins. Their sickly green skin glistened under the cavern's dim light as they surged forward, wielding rusted weapons and jagged daggers. The moment they spotted him, they let out a chorus of guttural screeches, their beady eyes filled with malice.

A crude iron sword materialized in Murtagh's grip, its weight pressing into his palm. The hilt was rough and unpolished, its balance slightly off, making each movement require more precision. He adjusted his stance, tightening his grip, feeling the cold metal against his skin. This weapon was basic—functional, but far from ideal. He would have to rely on skill rather than craftsmanship to survive. He had expected this—anticipated the first trial—but now that the battle was upon him, his nerves sharpened. The goblins came fast, their clawed feet skittering against the stone floor. The first lunged at him, dagger raised, but he sidestepped quickly, twisting his body as his sword arced downward. The impact was visceral, a wet crunch as the blade cleaved through the goblin's chest. It gurgled before dissolving into pixels.

Another goblin sprang from the left. Murtagh barely brought his weapon up in time, parrying its attack before countering with a brutal slash. Blood sprayed across the cavern floor as he kicked the creature's corpse aside. The next wave of goblins hesitated for a moment—he had already cut down two of their kin.

"Come on then," he muttered under his breath, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. More enemies flooded in, forcing him to pivot, duck, and weave between blows. Every movement had to be calculated. He could already feel the strain in his arms, but stopping wasn't an option. He had to survive.

The goblin horde dwindled after what felt like an eternity, their twisted bodies littering the ground before vanishing into shimmering pixels. Murtagh stood motionless for a moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Sweat clung to his forehead, and his arms ached from the relentless combat. He tightened his grip on his sword, half-expecting another wave of enemies to come charging through the gates. But none came. The silence that followed was almost as disorienting as the battle itself. He let out a slow exhale, steadying himself. The first trial was over, but he knew the real challenge was still ahead. Murtagh exhaled heavily, heart pounding, but the victory was short-lived.

A guttural roar echoed through the cavern.

The Hobgoblin.

Standing at least a head taller than him, the beast was covered in thick armor, its jagged axe gleaming under the cavern's dim light. Unlike the goblins, this was a real opponent. It snarled, its breath hot and rancid as it charged.

The fight was brutal. Every swing of its axe sent tremors through his arms as he barely managed to block or dodge. He circled, looking for an opening. Finally, when the Hobgoblin overextended its swing, Murtagh lunged, his blade slicing through the gap in its armor at the shoulder. The creature roared in pain, staggering before he delivered the final blow—plunging his sword through its throat.

It collapsed, blood pooling beneath its massive form before fading into pixels.

A notification flared in his vision.

[Phase One Complete: First Blood]

Phase Two: Leadership and Strategy

The sound of grinding stone filled the cavern as another gate opened. His eyes widened as forty spear-and-shield soldiers materialized, awaiting his command. Their armor was basic but sturdy, their spears glinting under the cavern's light. They stood in disciplined ranks, their expressions unreadable.

Opposite them, another gate rumbled open, revealing their next challenge. A horde of monstrous creatures emerged—Crag Beasts—hulking, reptilian creatures covered in thick, stone-like hide. Their claws were sharp enough to carve through steel, and their beady eyes gleamed with primal rage.

Murtagh's instincts kicked in. His vision blurred momentarily, a strange sensation pulsing through his mind. Then, suddenly, everything sharpened. He could see it—an attack forming from the shadows, a flanking maneuver by smaller Crag Beasts using the rocky terrain to their advantage. Foresight Activated.

"Form up! Shields in front, spears ready! Hold the line!" he commanded.

But he didn't stop there. His mind worked rapidly, processing the warning his ability had provided. "You five—break off to the left flank! Intercept the ambush before it reaches us!"

The soldiers hesitated only for a moment before following his command. As they moved, dark shapes emerged from behind the boulders—just as he had foreseen. The ambush was cut short as the prepared soldiers met the Crag Beasts head-on, preventing a deadly surprise attack. Murtagh's heart pounded. This was more than strategy—this was control of the battlefield.

The soldiers reacted immediately, their training evident as they moved with practiced efficiency. Shields locked together in a near-seamless wall, their spears bristling like a forest of deadly points. A few warriors shifted nervously, gripping their weapons tighter, but none broke formation. Their discipline would be tested in the next few moments, but Murtagh could already see determination in their eyes. They were ready.

The battle erupted in a furious storm of steel and snarls. The cavern rang with the sharp clang of weapons clashing, the guttural growls of Crag Beasts, and the desperate shouts of soldiers struggling to hold their ground. Murtagh moved between them, calling out orders, cutting down enemies where he could.

The battle raged on, each clash of steel and claw sending tremors through the cavern. Murtagh's soldiers held their formation, shields locked together, spears thrusting forward in deadly unison. The Crag Beasts roared in fury, their stone-like hides absorbing blows that would have felled lesser creatures.

One beast lunged, knocking a soldier off balance and sinking its jagged teeth into his exposed arm. A bloodcurdling scream rang out as the soldier crumpled, but Murtagh reacted instantly. "Reinforce the right flank! Press forward before they regroup!" he bellowed, stepping in to drive his blade into the creature's exposed throat. A spurt of dark ichor splattered across his armor as the beast thrashed and fell limp.

The soldiers rallied, driving their spears into the encroaching horde. Murtagh spotted another Crag Beast attempting to break through the line, its massive claws swiping at the shield wall. He surged forward, dodging its initial attack and slashing at the tendons of its legs. The creature buckled, roaring in pain before a soldier finished it off with a precise thrust to its skull.

The tide was turning. Sensing the shift, Murtagh raised his sword high. "Now! Full advance! Push them back!" His voice carried through the cavern, and with a coordinated roar, his forces surged forward, their attacks gaining momentum. Spears pierced vulnerable throats and bellies, shields bashed against thick hides, and within moments, the Crag Beasts were on the defensive.

The last remaining creatures attempted to flee, their wounded bodies scrambling for the safety of the shadows, but Murtagh would allow no retreat. "Archers! Finish them!"

From behind the shield wall, a group of bowmen unleashed a volley of arrows. The shafts struck true, felling the last of the beasts before they could escape. Silence settled over the battlefield, broken only by the heavy breathing of the victorious soldiers.

Murtagh exhaled, his grip on his sword loosening as he surveyed the fallen enemies. They had won. The final notification flared before his eyes.

[Phase Two Complete: Leadership Proven]

Bonus Achievement: Tactical Foresight - Increased Rating Earned!

The cavern trembled. A golden City Totem materialized before him, a rare reward. Murtagh stared at it, his breathing still heavy from the battle. The weight of what he had just accomplished settled over him. He had fought, commanded, and adapted—proving himself worthy of leadership. He reached out slowly, fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the totem. Was this just the beginning of his rise to power, or the first step toward something far greater? A slow smirk formed on his lips. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he was ready. As he reached for it, new words pulsed before him:

"Welcome, Lord Murtagh Morningstar. Your reign begins now."

(To be continued in Chapter 2)