Chương 76: The Clip Writes Itself

Meno already hated the choice he was about to make. The Goreboar had Speed, the Ashjackal had Control, and the Gloomstalker looked cool. Style had killed more MMO players than poison ticks ever had. Capacity mattered more. Meno had not reached level forty-six by making sensible choices, and sensible choices were clearly owned by people with party supports, raid scouts, spreadsheets, and somebody else feeding them pulls. Speed helped. Control was comfortable.

Neither solved the problem of being one broke streamer against organized guilds. A mount that carried twenty people could become a raid tool if he considered his faction his guild. The Grave Crown Banner was the other half of it. Open world XP had been terrible when he tested it. Dungeons were better, but Sunken Spire had taught him the cost of mastering a dungeon alone.

Four hours of practice had turned into fast clears and gold, but once he counted that practice time, BrineSaint and JaxxonVale were still ahead with helper abuse. The shark boss had made the lesson clearer. Dungeons would not accommodate him just because he liked playing solo. The higher the level got, the more mechanics demanded bodies: angles, roles, interrupts, tank checks, healer responses, or someone doing the stupid fish corpse job while the streamer looked cool.

He could solve some of it through repetition, but every solution took time, and each mastered dungeon only paid for a few levels before the boss dropped in threat and the XP fell off. The return was mediocre unless he sold access. He already had gold now. If Karma could buy gear and faction rewards, that mattered more than another Rare III dagger. The Grave Crown might have been a PvP accident, but accidents still counted if they gave him a ladder. Meno opened the faction item tab again. Two items were visible.

[Grave Crown Banner] Cost: 100 Karma Designated Region: Level 40–50 [Grave Crown Grand Banner] Cost: 500 Karma Designated Region: Level 50–60 The rest of the faction shop remained blacked out. [Karma too low to view.] The prices made his stomach tighten. One hundred Karma meant ten hostile-faction player kills if the banner made them count. Five hundred meant fifty. Since the kingdoms were still under fake peace outside claimed zones, normal kills probably still gave negative Karma until the world state changed.

The banner was not just a tool; it was the key that turned PvP into legal currency farming. Meno thought of Marielle's Little Aureliana, and the memory became more annoying with every new piece of information. That necklace he had designed was better than he had understood at the time. One thousand percent Karma gain was not cute. It was a faction economy engine.

BrineSaint going after it before anyone else made painful sense now, and Mythic items being unique meant Meno had probably built a ladder for rank one to climb.

"Great," Meno muttered.

"I am haunted by my own design credit." Meno looked at the Mountstone list one last time. Nobody had mounts yet, at least nobody he knew of. Twenty-five thousand gold was still a fortune for the average player, especially when they also needed weapons, armor, repairs. Most people would buy a solo mount first, or whichever one looked cutest on stream. He could get a better personal mount later. Tier two and three existed.

Speed would be replaced by better Speed, and Control would improve, but Capacity stayed useful because a mount that carried twenty people enabled plans a solo player should not have.

"Yes," Meno said.

"High Speed or High Control is probably king later." Chat quieted enough to listen, which meant they expected a mistake.

"Low Speed should still be faster than running, otherwise mounts are pointless. Capacity and Jump are unique. They allow strategies that do not exist on foot. Speed gets replaced by a higher tier mount. Capacity stays capacity." He selected the Gravewurm. [Purchase Mountstone: Gravecrown Gravewurm] [Cost: 25, 000g] Confirm? [Y/N] Meno pressed yes.

[Mountstone Acquired: Gravecrown Gravewurm] [Currency: 164, 495g] A green gem appeared in his hand, cold and heavy, with a small black worm shape turning inside it like a trapped shadow. Chat stared with him for half a second. Then the disbelief arrived. HE DID IT WE WERE JOKING WHY actually did it WORM KING raid bus unlocked wrong choice right choice Marcel stopped dancing. The jeweled teenager turned back toward Meno with immediate interest.

"I see you picked the one that resembles you the most." Meno picked up a tart from a passing tray and threw it at his face. Marcel reacted like a professional coward, yanking Miralda in front of himself as the tart splattered across her dress. Jam and cream slid down the front while Marcel laughed and Miralda looked at the mess, then at Meno, then giggled with the exact kind of derangement that explained why she had been entertaining Marcel in the first place.

"Oh, look at that, Miralda," Marcel said.

"You are even sweeter than before." Meno left before his hands made a faction crisis. He walked out of the throne hall, down the castle path, and through the inner wall while chat screamed for him to go back and drown Marcel. The guards at the gate watched him leave with the same contempt as before, though Meno now had a worm bus and a skull faction tag, so their opinion had become worthless.

"Everyone listen." The chat slowed.

"I need nineteen more players, level thirty-five or higher, to join the Grave Crown. I am logging off for a short sleep, about four hours. When I get back, we meet at Westmarket's southern gate." level 35??? too high I'm 18 carry me what are we doing banner raid?

"I will make a post on the official Veyrath forums," Meno said.

"First nineteen people to sign up with in-game names get spots. If someone does not show up, I take the twentieth person, then the twenty-first, and so on." He opened the forum overlay. His first official post was a practical disaster before he even submitted it. [Thread Created: Grave Crown Field Test — Level 35+ Signups] Need 19 Grave Crown players, Level 35 minimum. Meet at Westmarket southern gate after my break. First names posted get priority. No details yet. Use in-game name. Meno posted it.

The replies arrived instantly. iloveyou iloveyou WORM I am level 7 can I come PrayerBeadGod ruined my marriage iloveyou serious signup: Almos lvl35"This is going to be a clown show," Meno said.

"Unfortunately, it is still the best idea I have right now." do not lock to PvP faction Grave Crown scary guilds will farm us Westmarket doomed no thanks Meno understood the hesitation. Being the PvP faction sounded fun until the strongest PvE guilds chose something else and coordinated against it. If the top players avoided Grave Crown, the faction could become prey instead of predator. Each kingdom had to have its own bonus, and he still had no idea what Southreach, Northspire, or Eastveil offered.

He could not change now.

"Look," Meno said.

"The PvP faction is clearly the most fun. What, you want to play support and get carried by large guilds instead?" Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. yes yes yes actually Kestrel save us Meno logged out. The capsule opened, and the apartment returned around him, pale with early Sunday light leaking through the window. It was around five in the morning, and his brain felt like mush. He ended the stream, then checked his email because he had promised Bradbaron.

The birthday invite sat between trash sponsorships, fake agency offers, clip-channel spam, and one message titled "Revolutionary Gamer Toothpaste Partnership" that he deleted on sight. Bradbaron's party was Monday evening at a fancy address, with a dress code that did not mention swim shorts but probably implied their execution. Meno did not want to go. He also knew he probably should. Bradbaron might help with sponsorships.

The Herder Chocolate call had proved Meno needed a manager, assistant, adult, lawyer, or at minimum someone who could tell him not to insult the product before hearing the full offer. Bradbaron was arrogant and annoying, but he understood money, so Meno emailed him his phone number. Then he leaned back and looked at the ceiling. Meno did not have many real-world friends, maybe none, but he would never admit that to his mother because she would worry. Stream friends were dangerous.

They were viewers first, people second, and most of them wanted a clip even when they liked him. Bradbaron was oddly safer as a half-hater, because admiration had never been the main problem between them. Curiosity got him next, so Meno opened OxideChoir's stream and found her dancing in Veyrath, looking glossy, sharp, and extremely marketable while chat roared and music thumped. He watched for three seconds, closed it immediately, and decided he had learned enough about the competition.

He considered calling Aurelia, but his thumb only hovered for a second before he decided it was too soon. Meno set a timer for four hours, sprawled on his bed, and fell asleep fast. Knocking woke him, and he checked his phone with one eye. Only three hours had passed.

"This is sabotage." The knocking continued until Meno dragged himself to the door and opened it cautiously. His sister Lysa barged in wearing a summer dress, hair tied back, expression sharpened into emergency mode.

"You interrupted my sleep," Meno said.

"I saw your dumb clip." She looked him up and down.

"This is an emergency intervention. Tell me you haven't called Aurelia."

"I haven't."

"Good." She exhaled.

"Then we might still salvage this." Meno rubbed his face.

"I was going to invite her later today to Bradbaron's birthday party tomorrow." Lysa sat on his bed and looked at him gravely.

"She will decline." Meno stopped where he was. The floor looked more comfortable than standing, so he sat down on it.

"You think so? Why?"

"Both Jonas and I agree."

"That is not an explanation."

"Ambushing her like that on stream was inconsiderate."

"It wasn't on purpose," Meno said.

"It just came out."

"The reason does not matter." Lysa's voice softened only a little.

"Whether you love her or are simply infatuated is irrelevant right now."

"So what do I do?"

"Nothing. If this can be salvaged, let her call you first. She is being freaked out by her own thoughts, and if you pressure her, she will default to the emotionally simplest solution, which is rejecting you." Meno frowned.

"That seems like a shallow way to look at it."

"Shut up, Meno, and listen to me." Lysa stood.

"Do not invite her. I have to go. Take care of yourself." She left as fast as she had arrived. Meno sat on the floor for a while after the door closed, then crawled back into bed and tried to think through what she had said. He lasted maybe four minutes before sleep took him again. The phone alarm woke him an hour later. Meno dragged himself out of bed with the stiffness of someone respawning with low durability, took a shower, and raided his kitchen for the last bag of chips.

Breakfast had become salted air and crumbs. Then he climbed into the capsule and turned on the stream as he logged back into Veyrath. [Login Complete] Westmarket loaded around him as chat returned in pieces, then waves. sleepy worm time did you call her DO NOT CALL leaderboard raid bus Meno opened the leaderboard.

[Launch Leaderboard | Global Level Rank] [Rank 1: BrineSaint — Level 50] [Rank 2: JaxxonVale — Level 50] [Rank 3: Kestrel_Crownfall — Level 50] [Rank 4: Thornwake_Stormhold — Level 49] [Rank 5: PikeNorth_Highbanner — Level 49] [Rank 6: Moonwake_Silverwake — Level 49] [Rank 7: Honeygrave — Level 48] [Rank 8: OxideChoir — Level 48] [Rank 9: VantaRush_HypeForge — Level 48] [Rank 10: GlassRook_Crownfall — Level 47] [...] [Rank 16: PrayerBeadGod — Level 46] The top ten push had failed.

Sunken Spire's second boss had eaten the momentum, and the mount quest had dragged him through a skeleton kingdom, and a worm purchase. Still, rank sixteen was progress. BrineSaint held rank one even while wasting time on Karma setup, which was impressive and annoying. JaxxonVale and Kestrel had both reached level fifty. progress rank 16 catching up GlassRook target worm raid"If you signed up, go to the southern gate," Meno said.

"I'm doing research first." The strategy was not to mess with BrineSaint, Jaxxon, or Kestrel. They had already outgrown forty-to-fifty zones. He needed to target GlassRook and the five players between him and rank ten, the ones still using forty-to-fifty routes. If the Grave Crown Banner could cut their XP while boosting his group, the gap might finally move. Meno opened a stream overlay and searched GlassRook. GlassRook was in Vulcanic Breach, Ashfang Volcano, running the JaxxonVale dungeon.

The zone had become the preferred race track. Meno searched more streams and found one level forty-six woman in Starfall Crown. Two more level forty-six streamers were being XP-fed inside Vulcanic Breach. The other two players between Meno and GlassRook were either offline or not streaming, leaving him with incomplete data. He checked his forum post and found chaos. Half the replies were iloveyou, worm memes, and people posting fake names. Between them were serious signups. Enough serious signups.

More than enough, actually.

"As expected," Meno said.

"Jaxxon's Magma Golem strat spread. People adopted it, just worse, because his class is stupid for it." He did not summon the mount in the city. A bus-sized worm appearing in Westmarket streets sounded like trouble, maybe even a city event, so Meno left through the southern gate instead. A large crowd waited outside. Most were level twenty to thirty, viewers who had come anyway despite the requirement.

The actual candidates stood closer to the road, fewer in number and marked by the small golden skull of Grave Crown allegiance. Meno pulled the Mountstone from his inventory.

"Okay," he said.

"Let's see how this works." [Summon Mount: Gravecrown Gravewurm?] He selected yes. The green gem glowed, and a huge armored worm the size of a bus appeared in front of the southern gate. The crowd went quiet. The Gravewurm turned its circular maw toward Meno as if sniffing. It had no visible eyes. Its body was built from thick interlocked rings, broad near the head and tapering toward the tail, each segment plated with dark bone and green-black hide. Meno walked around it.

"There is no sane way to mount this from the front." WORM beautiful disgusting sports worm? so ugly He climbed up from the tail, using the plated rings like steps. At the top, a small saddle sat near the front, though it looked less like a seat and more like someone had strapped a cushion to a siege engine. A dark leather rein ran forward and down to both sides of the maw.

Behind the saddle, nineteen tall spikes rose from its back: three rows of six, with one final spike centered behind the last row for the twentieth passenger to cling to. The top area was wide, but not generous. Meno sat in the saddle. The Gravewurm shuddered under him, a full-body ripple that traveled from head to tail. Something in the Mountstone connection acknowledged him. Meno looked down at the crowd.

"Almos. You here?" A level thirty-five man in plate armor raised his hand, carrying a shield in one hand and a one-handed spire sword in the other. The weapon looked familiar because Meno had crafted it.

"Present!"

"Good taste in sword," Meno said. Almos looked absurdly proud. Meno created a raid party, invited him, and waved him up. Almos climbed the tail and took a spot behind one of the spikes, gripping it with both hands as the worm shifted under him. [Raid Formed] [Members: 2/20]"Pip?" A woman raised her hand, her longbow almost as tall as she was. Meno paused for a second because he had expected dudes only.

Character creation in Veyrath was capsule-locked, so the level thirty-seven archer in green leather was actually a woman. miracle Pip real chat stunned archer girl be normal Meno don't speak"Up," Meno said.

"Junebug?" Another woman raised her hand: level thirty-five, dual-wielding warrior, short red hair, two axes at her hips. ANOTHER??? woman two historic impossible PBGod meta shift"Okay," he said.

"Latch?" The universe corrected itself as a tall, thin level thirty-six rogue-type man raised his hand with a lazy salute and climbed up without making it weird.

"Good," Meno muttered. Then he read the next name.

"Nix?" Another woman raised her hand: level thirty-eight rogue, dark hood, curved daggers, calm expression. Chat entered full investigation mode. statistically impossible setup where did they come from oh no Meno's throat tightened.

"Morfoos?" A level thirty-five priest raised his hand, which gave Meno hope that the serious applicants had discovered healing.

"Ruinelle?" A level thirty-nine warlock woman stepped forward.

"Guys, what is going on?" The crowd started laughing before he even asked the next part. Meno looked back at Ruinelle.

"Do you watch my stream? What made you sign up?" Ruinelle looked shy for half a second, probably because she had just been placed on camera in front of a six-figure audience while standing beside a giant worm.

"I found your stream recently," she said.

"After your unfortunate clip with your girlfriend. I thought it was cute." The entire crowd burst into laughter. People hollered, and someone threw an apple at the Gravewurm's mouth. The mount ignored it for one beat, then shot the apple back out so fast it hit a level twelve viewer in the forehead and dropped him stunned. The crowd went quiet, then surrounded him and started laughing harder. Meno stared at the apple victim.

"Do not feed the worm." He read the next name like someone watching a clip title write itself.

"Sabra?" A level thirty-five tank woman raised her hand. SABRA TOO setup confirmed Meno recruiting arc Aurelia do not watch worm harem"VeeVeeZap?" Another woman. Level thirty-six mage. Bright blue hair. Staff crackling with electric sparks. Meno was dying inside. It looked like he was selecting women out of the crowd for a personal harem, which was not remotely what he was doing, but the clip title was already writing itself. The forum order was the forum order.

Calling it off would look worse, and he refused to make tactical decisions based on how chat captioned things. He read the next name.

"Orlaqt?" A level thirty-five priest woman raised both hands.

"Here!" Her voice was high, bright, and cuter than seemed safe around a crowd with recording tools. Chat went fully hostile. NO not another explain coward Meno explain this is a trap unbelievable Meno kept going. Name by name, the raid filled. The final count was five men and fourteen women behind him on the Gravewurm, all level thirty-five or above, all wearing the tiny golden skull before their names.

The low-level crowd around them kept laughing, shouting obscene advice, and making comments that turned departure from practical to urgent. Even the men on the mount looked uncomfortable. There was not much room. Everyone sat close, knees tucked, hands gripping spikes or armor straps, shoulder to shoulder on the back of a giant worm. This was not a luxury carriage. This was twenty people learning that capacity did not mean comfort. Clips started appearing in chat.

PrayerBeadGod recruits worm harem for PvP faction Meno closed his eyes.

"I hate you." Chat understood that he meant all of them. He grabbed the reins.

"Let's go."

"Wait, please!" Orlaqt raised a hand from the second row, eyes bright, her staff pressed awkwardly against her shoulder because there was no space to hold it normally. Meno coughed.

"Yeah, sure. But try to plug something on my stream and I will kick you off the worm." Orlaqt waved both hands in front of herself.

"I would never! Pinky promise!" Meno could not believe this situation existed.

"Speak." Orlaqt took a breath and shouted with everything she had, which was not much.

"To wurmfinity and beyond-ish!" The crowd lost control, and Meno stared forward over the Gravewurm's huge blind head, regretting every decision that had led to this point and wishing he had picked the jackal. He was never going to live this down.