Dark Legacy

by Valery Starsky

  “Shut up, bastard, you are already dead! I demand a duel to the death!” The huge lefar shouted, pointing at Yar with a claw. “I hope to see all the possibilities for your Dark school!” He laughed, as did all his hangers-on.

  Yar stared at Tria Ars and noticed that the lefar had become pale as well. Does she really fear for me? Does she also consider the mark on my hand to be something unreal?

  Yar suddenly realized that he possessed a magic scan — he could look at someone and see who really was in front of him. Yar seemed to see right through Broon, his whole essence and aura. It was like a dirty black floor cloth with large holes through it. Yar was so disgusted to look at it that he even shuddered. Then he again turned his attention to Tria Ars.

  “Don’t worry,” Yar said quietly, trying to calm the lefar, and then he shouted loudly with a good-natured smile: “You talk too much for a warrior, fatty!”

  His words caused laughter from most of the lefars present. Marstom Broon’s fur stood on end, and his eyes filled with blood. He pushed his neighbors, jumped out into the arena, and hissed like a red-hot sword dipped in quenching oil.

  “Choose a weapon, puppy. You’ll soon regret your words. I’ll make you eat your guts and then I’ll drink your blood!”

  Not a single muscle twitched on Yar’s face as he continued smiling. Yar raised his hand, and as if on cue, the noise of all those present in the amphitheater subsided. He spoke so quietly, confidently and powerfully that it looked as though thunder and lightning burst into this secluded place from the outside to join with his voice.

  “I’m disappointed in you, Broon! I’m very sorry to see such meanness among great warriors. You are a lefar, but it is clear to me that your soul is black and rotten! You, Marstom Broon, have already turned into one like whom you serve so selflessly and devotedly!”

  Yar paused and continued distinctly and confidently, “I choose hand-to-hand combat!”

  All the lefars present snarled approvingly. The lefars revered rampant courage most of all! They appreciated his reckless bravery! No one had ever dared to challenge the Recus’s Master to a duel without a weapon before in the entire Belt of the Worlds.

  The Chief Mentor jumped to Yar’s side and spoke softly, “Yar, be prudent. It’s a sophisticated way of committing suicide, don’t you think? It’s a conspiracy! They want to dislodge me. They convened the Council of the Masters for this purpose only. Before it’s too late, stop it. Take a tactical retreat.”

  “Uh, no!” The challenger intervened in the conversation, stepping close to Tegen Ree. “There’s no way back, Ree. Your tiny wizard will die today, and tomorrow, you’ll leave Tirr forever.”

  Yar laughed himself to tears, looking at the overfed rhino-like lefar, noting in surprise that he could successfully control his emotions—whether it was crying or hysterical.

  Marstom Broon clenched his fists and roared, “A duel! A duel! I call for the observance of the ancient martial traditions. Everyone, leave the arena!”

  ***

  Tria Ars thought she hadn’t saved the most important man in her life. For the first time, she was so afraid she worried she might lose consciousness or her heart would break in her chest. She couldn’t even look at the arena.

  It’s all over. We are deprived of all our hopes for freedom and better life forever... The miracle's over. It's better to die after all this. Oh, my poor children. Then she drew her attention to the Shadows: they were standing quite calmly. She couldn’t keep her silence and hissed viciously, “Don’t you care about Yar’s life at all?”

  It seemed to her that the Shadows looked at her as if she were insane. One of them answered coldly, “Master Yar is strong. He could cope with three such warriors without problems.”

  Tria Ars exhaled slowly. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that, but she became calmer for some reason. Now, at least, she had hope.

  ***

  They stood opposite each other. It seemed Yar was doomed to die. He looked like a wolf cub challenging a wolfhound.

  Wow . Yar looked at his hands in surprise: small claws had appeared instead of his nails. They were filled with darkness, as in the Dark World, and his whole body had been reconstructed in a split second.

  “It’s gorgeous,” Yar muttered with pleasure. His opponent laughed nervously, showing off his twelve-inch-long curved claws.

  “A-ha-ha! Your nails look like little baby ones.” There was a gong sound, and Broon jumped out, trying to hit Yar with all four of his paws at the same time, in order to break this impudent upstart into pieces and finish the enchanting duel in a solitary second. He did not doubt his own victory.

  Yar easily walked away from the blow, shifting to the side. Time habitually slowed down for him, and without regret, he made two Circles of Death around the lefar and cut off his paws. And when his assailant’s body began to collapse, he cut off his head. It looked like a hefty lefar was falling apart in bloody mist, for a moment.

  The lefars were numb in the amphitheater. Yar waited for the fight to continue: three more lefars jumped out to him, but they only had time to land on the floor before he accepted the dragon’s guise. Breath of darkness immediately dispelled the three traitors, and neither ash nor the remains of Marstom Broon remained. The reptile raised its right paw and rumbled, blocking the thunder that crashed outside.

  “Companions! The traitors got what they deserved!”

  “Ra! Ra! Ra!” the lefars shouted madly in the amphitheater, throwing up their weapons. Tria Ars was crying and rubbing away her tears.

  Chapter 4. Demiurge

  A fter such a long acceleration, and a rather rapid change of guises, Yar felt exhausted. He was currently on his feet worrying whether his nose was bleeding. The remedy unit helped, but not in the way he had expected. I must be more careful with these transitions and my acceleration , he thought.

  The lefars surrounded him and helped him to sit down on a stone bench. They then shouted something, treated him with kookoos, massaged his arms and legs, poured water on the back of his head, and finally, wiped him with a towel.

  Suddenly, Lyan’s confident and stern voice rang inside his head. “Master, congratulations! It was a great fight, and I’m sorry for interrupting, but you shouldn’t ignore a number of extremely important messages any longer.”

  Yar sighed and replied hopelessly, “Okay. How many of these urgent messages are there?”

  Eva answered, “Hello, Master. There are four of them presently.”

  Yar was a little surprised. He had expected there to be many more messages. He even felt a slight relief.

  “Hi, Eva. Please, show me them!”

  The first message appeared before his eyes. It was concise and stunning at the same time!

  Attention!

  The lot № AP - 000000676545 has been sold!

  The seller: ????????????? 3,600,000,000 gold were credited to your account.

  The buyer: The ruling clan of the light elves ‘The White Moths’.

  From what he saw, Yar could only mutter in shock, “What a deal!”

  He was only able to think clearly after a short while. I wonder what elves make of them there? I need to somehow know this, very carefully, and without attracting attention.

  “Eva, how many posts do I have on this topic, like the seller?”

  “A few million requests and suggestions. They are mostly from elves, but there are some from other nations as well.”

  “Delete them all!”

  “Okay. I’ll show you the second message,” Eve said gently.

  Attention, Leader of the Midnighters clan!

  A member of your clan, Heiro Kamir, has been captured. She is on the Blue Planet in the Palace of Capture.

  Affiliation: The elven clan: White Branch.

  Lowering your status is possible. Penalties are provided.

  Yar had something to think about; the countdown counter was now working next to this red system message, which still had a little less than forty-eight hours to go.
Apparently, at the end, the status would be lowered and the penalty would be applied. Who loved penalties? Of course, Yar should save the princess.

  The third letter was from Vey the Shamrock, and it caused the same strong storm of emotions and thoughts as the previous messages had.

  Hello, Yar.

  I am writing to report that, while sticking out of boredom in the main lair of the clan ‘White Branch’, I came across an interesting prisoner of royal dark elf blood, and for some reason, she is in the clan of a certain Yar Row Dark.

  I have not seen anything more entertaining for a long time. Your manners drive me into a shiver. I can’t wait to see how you will rescue Heiro Kamir, bro.

  Consider it your entrance exam. By the way, don’t take Dar Kroo with you, this grumbler can only be invited to booze after a fight or if you need to smash something and plunder.

  Best wishes,

  Vey the Shamrock

  Yar read the fourth message with a slight shudder. It really turned out to be quite impressive.

  Attention!

  Player Yar Row Dark!

  The Dark World quest is fully implemented.

  Award options:

  1. Global Achievement (Premium Awards) is beneficial

  2. Global Achievement (Awards Exclusive) is efficient

  3. Global Achievement (Reward Intuitive) is necessary

  * Warning: When choosing option 3, complete destruction of this information will follow.

  The third option was barely visible, as if written by watermarks.

  It is strange why ‘Necessary’ is written near this variant. It seems that this might be a hint or even clear help. I need to ask Ran Row. He has been in the game for a long time, and he must have heard of that. So, that’s my mind made up. Of course, I’ll choose the third option.

  “The third option,” Yaroslav repeated confidently. “Very interesting. What is it? Come on, come on! I can’t wait!” he kept saying.

  Finally, he saw.

  Master Demiurge 7, 700th rank.

  Characteristics: (removal, redistribution, correction, harmonization, duplicate templates)

  Look: (visual converter, generator of intuitive images, harmonization, patterns of images)

  Items: (visual converter, artifact designer, generator of intuitive images, templates, simulator)

  * Warning: when exposed to third-party players and powerful artifacts, energy consumption will be increased.

  At first, he was disappointed, but the more he read it, the more he admired it. There’s so much new, incomprehensible it seems. It can really change a lot. I urgently need to do this!

  Yar couldn’t resist his desire. He tried, entered and was stunned: there was so much interesting and shocking here. He was shaken with pure excitement.

  I will study it for a week, at least! he thought in shock. But, no matter how much he wanted to stay here for a long time, he pulled himself together and walked out of his new constructor toy, hearing, “Hey! Hey! You shouldn’t be nervous. This petrification is a usual condition for Ayur—he’s working with magical energies now,” Tria Ars hissed to those lefars who had noticed that the leader had turned into a stone statue.

  “Yep,” Yar said, getting to his feet. “Ars is right. It was necessary to restore my power.”

  After these words, everything continued as it should.

  Yar smiled reluctantly, at least it looked like a pathetic grimace. Well, it was much easier for him to fight than to withstand the joy of his companions—who were now shaking arms one by one and examining the tattoo of Yar Recus in admiration.

  “Phew,” Yaroslav breathed out as he squatted, glancing gratefully at Gelic who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, so all the lefars’ attention switched to him instantly.

  The amorph smiled widely as usual, and he easily carried a lefar, tied up with white transparent ribbons, on his shoulder. Gelic walked into the center of the arena and dropped his load dismissively. Slightly gurgling, and pointing to the lying lefar, he said, “The traitor!” Then he looked around with his eerie smile and added, “The last traitor!”

  What a talented counterintelligence officer! Yar thought gratefully.

  The amorph did not mean to shut up, and so he continued.

  “He was hiding this.” Gelic laid a shining cube on the lying lefar. The surrounding noise immediately died down.

  “This is the Universal Suppressor,” Tegen Ree said in surprise, looking at Yar.

  “How is this possible? You’ve just recently built a portal to your homeland,” the Mentor asked him.

  “I think the reason is that I got the system alert for overcoming the UnSu twice. It seems that this elven device is not designed to suppress the Magic of Affect,” Yar answered.

  Tegen Ree walked back and forth nervously, thinking aloud as he went. “The device is indestructible. In addition, elves can track the location of the UnSu easily and pick it up whenever they want—even if we bury it or throw it inside a volcano on some other planet.”

  “We seem to have some difficulty then. Let’s fight!” some reckless creature shouted from the back rows.

  “Silence!” the Mentor roared loudly and turned to Yar.

  “Ayur, what shall we do? They say the UnSu can read everything that happened to the portals and communications in general, and perhaps it fixes what is happening around us.”

  Yar shrugged and pulled out ‘The Cage of Oblivion’, easily enclosing the glowing cube inside.

  “Try to send messages!” Yar shouted, and the lefars obeyed.

  “It’s working! It’s working, Ayur!” Enthusiastic screams were heard from everywhere.

  Then Yar continued, “Companions! I think that if the elves send their sleuths here, they won’t be able to prove anything. The lefars that ‘got lost’ with the cube were mercenaries, and they could have deceived their elven customers in favor of greater benefits. I’m planning to use this device to put them on the wrong track. It seems to me that I will definitely have such an opportunity in the near future. Mask the portal carefully!” he ordered.

  The lefars started to talk loudly again, so the Mentor had to pacify them once again. When the excited shouts finally subsided, Tegen Ree walked right up to the captive lefar.

  “What to do with him?” The mentor kicked him.

  “Gelic, free this renegade from his fetters, please. Somehow, I think he will tell us everything we wish to know.”

  The ribbons, wrapping the captive like snakes, rushed to the amorph, dissolving into him. The lefar turned out to be surprisingly swift, striking himself with a precise, mortal blow. A long, thin blade pierced through his head, entering through his lower jaw and emerging from the top.

  “You won’t leave!” Yar shouted, imagining how dangerous this captive might be; he seemed to have a revival point inside their enemy’s territory. Therefore, Yar instantly moved the body into ‘The Cage of Oblivion’.

  Everyone, as if spellbound, looked at the strange cage—the glowing UnSu was laying in the corner, and a tiny lefar’s corpse was next to it. Even for Yar, this was extremely unusual. He was not mistaken: a cocoon of rebirth appeared soon in the cage, and then a small, shaggy, and very angry lefar materialized in a piquant pose. This micro-lefar promised with his mosquito voice that the great elves would take revenge for him. This clownery looked amazing. No one could calm down for ten minutes: the lefars’ laughter proved to be very contagious.

  Having laughed heartily himself, Yar took the floor.

  “Well, traitor, you won’t see your masters. I will think about what to do with you for a while, I think.” Yar placed the cage into his subspace pocket.

  I’ll conduct an experiment. Nothing seems to spoil in the cage, and at the same time, we will check on the traitor to see how it works with living beings, he thought.

  “That’s all, my friends. We need to go further.

  Chapter 5. Priceless Gifts

  Y ar was standing on the edge of the portal, and the Shadows lined up in fro
nt of him in perfectly smooth rows, right up to the very fortified wall—it was an impressive sight! The dragons were standing on the right. There were a little more than a hundred of them, but this was no longer the small group doomed to extinction somewhere on the outskirts of the universe.

  With bright branched lightning in his hand, each of thousand-odd spectators seemed to look at Yar as, using magic, he addressed the whole district. “Companions! We are going to my world! It is beautiful, adamant, and dangerous, just like you, and I am sure that the Shadows and dragons will be able to find a new homeland and, in alliance with people and other races, we will be able to defend their right to freedom and revenge!”

  Yar opened the portal, and the emerald glow lit up above it. It was trembling and shimmering like the northern lights.

  “Gelic, go ahead! Warn the swifts,” Yar ordered. Pointing to the dragons, he said, “You go next.”

  “Yes!” the amorph confirmed and instantly disappeared into the portal, shouting something joyful and indecipherable as he went. Yar smiled. Apparently, Gelic has also missed Earth.

  The dragons entered the portal, smiling. Their muzzles shone with happiness, and they looked gratefully at Yar.

  “Dee!” Yar shouted when he saw Dee the Dancer of Rising Streams, his best air scout. “Go to patrol immediately after arrival!”

  The dragon didn’t even have time to answer before he disappeared in the portal. The Shadows silently flowed into the portal: they were silent, full of dignity, ready for anything, and there were no emotions visible on their faces. They are true Shadows. It is lucky for me to have such warriors at hand.

  Yar turned around. “Well, it’s time to say goodbye,” he said with sadness in his voice, addressing the lefars.

  ***

  Tria Ars and Tegen Ree were standing in front of everyone, their grown children between them. The lefar was visibly nervous, as she did not know how to ask the head of the clan to initiate her offspring. At the moment this was her cherished dream. Tria Ars already understood that this request would remain unrealizable—Yar had too many urgent matters—however, Yar had long known about her desire, thanks to the omnipresent and all-knowing Gelic.