Isr Kale's Journal (The Alchemist Book #4): LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Are you done with your part? Can we keep going?”

  “Not yet. Sadil said I need to pull you out, otherwise we can’t get into the academy.”

  “Valanil?”

  “In the main hall surrounded by Carlians. I’m planning on heading in after her now. Can you get up?”

  “Give me another couple minutes.” Forian looked around. He’d been the only one hanging upside-down, the rest stuck on their hooks with their heads in the air, and all of them were staring at the would-be runaways. Made out of thick bars, the walls didn’t do anything to obstruct the view. Forian pulled himself together and surprised Tailyn by suddenly addressing the other prisoners in a loud voice.

  “My name is Forian Tarn, treasurer of the free city Mean Truk. We can liberate you, but in exchange you’ll need to take a vassal oath to serve the city for one year. Work for your freedom. Twelve months from now, you’ll have the right to leave Mean Truk or stay there. You won’t be slaves, though you will be workers with no preference for age or title. Everyone works the same. If you’d like to join us, wiggle around. If you want to stay here, just keep hanging there.”

  “If anyone moves now but then declines, they’ll be killed,” Tailyn warned just in case. The idea of bringing new people in to Mean Truk was a good one, so he had his treasurer’s back completely. The vassal oath would keep anyone from pulling any tricks no matter who they were.

  Almost all of them began jerking around, only the numericals hanging quietly as they watched in horror as Tailyn went from cell to cell freeing the prisoners from their hooks. Once he was feeling better, Forian cut the ropes and demanded an oath attested to by the god from each of them. None of them refused. Apparently, their fate there was far worse than a flight into uncertainty.

  “Wow, you were able to hang onto it?” Tailyn asked as soon as he saw Forian slipping on his complete level three outfit. It was the one he’d been wearing when he was captured.

  “We had a few seconds after they released the blocker. Basically, what happened to me was the guards taking out their frustration after not getting their hands on it. Tailyn, activate the portal and send everyone to Mean Truk.

  Valia, I need a portal to send some people your way. New workers—four regulars, two mages. Just be careful since we haven’t checked them. They were here in the Carlian prison.

  Got it. Activate on the count of three, and I’ll figure out who they are.

  None of the fugitives had any problem stepping through the portal since the vassal oath came with responsibilities for the city as well as for them. Nobody was supposed to kill or even hurt the new residents.

  “Lead the way,” Forian said as soon as the shimmering circle shut to leave Tailyn with just three teleport cards remaining for Mean Truk. “Valanil could use our help.”

  The herbalist’s blinking red frame told them things weren’t going well. Tailyn had been figuring nothing would happen to Valanil until the duke got back, but he could only curse when the main hall was once again within range of Raptor. The head of the Carlian clan was standing a step away from the herbalist.

  But that wasn’t the worst part.

  Next to the duke, there was another red dot, also a new one. And the complete lack of a description unnerved Tailyn. He’d already come across their kind—the grays, or nameless, players belonging to the emperor’s personal guard. Presumably, the viceroy had sent one to have Forian delivered to his palace. The Duke of Carlian wasn’t an influential enough figure to assign one of the four remaining killers to.

  “I’m not leaving her. The fact that the god brought you here means it’ll help with this, too,” Forian said when Tailyn described the situation. The nameless was at the very edge of Raptor’s range, so it was possible he hadn’t yet seen Tailyn or Forian on his own Raptor. But the boy didn’t doubt that he did have the device.

  “Okay, then wait here. I’m going in alone,” Tailyn replied. “You’ll only get in the way.”

  Once Tailyn was sure Forian wouldn’t try to play the hero, he took off his gloves to wipe his palms dry. The upcoming fight had him nervous, and he didn’t even think about hiding it. His heart pounded. If it hadn’t been for Valanil, he would have long since left the palace, though he couldn’t leave the herbalist to get carved up by the nameless monster. He slipped his gloves back on and even closed his eyes as he began working with Raptor.

  Attempting to hack <???>.

  Your Hacking level: 129.

  <???>’s protection level: ...unknown...

  Probability of successful hack: 48%.

  Attempt 1… Unsuccessful.

  How was that possible? A player in the emperor’s personal guard had his protection lower than Tailyn’s hacking. Immediately, the duke and the nameless jumped away from Valanil. Tailyn had to take a few steps forward to keep his target within range of Raptor, waiting through five seconds of chaos until the device went to work again:

  Attempt 2… Successful.

  You received access to <???> …

  Error…

  Analyzing data.

  <???> was renamed Melas Ando (human). Ranger. Level 82. Age 54.

  ***

  You received access to the personal data of a player from the emperor’s personal guard.

  Initiating protection protocol...

  ***

  You destroyed a player from the emperor’s personal guard.

  Level +3 (46).

  All your attributes and skills were increased by 1.

  Named item level +1 (12).

  You used free attribute points.

  Enhancement +3 (63).

  “Go, go, go! They’re all frozen!” Tailyn yelled as he dashed forward, leaping up the flight of stairs. The loss of the nameless was presumably a blow to the Carlians’s morale, and that meant they could still save Valanil. There was no more hiding. After the quick win over Melas Ando, none of the servants seemed to Tailyn like they represented much of a threat, so he just knocked doors off their hinges on his way. By the time the Carlians gotten their wits about them after the shock, Tailyn was battering down the last door and bursting unceremoniously into the palace’s main hall.

  The boy had already been there once. It was in that very hall that the viceroy had done his best to steal Valia away only to have her turn her back on her family. Bursting in, Tailyn was greeted by the sight of a bloodied Valanil with a gag in her mouth that kept her from screaming in pain. Nobody had asked her anything. Instead, they’d just tortured her, relishing the agony they were putting her through. Sorting through his cards, Tailyn saw chain lightning pop up in front of him, targeted the people closest to the herbalist, and attacked, knowing that Valanil’s immunity would keep her safe. Six scorched bodies dropped to the ground. Unfortunately, they didn’t include Eralas Fren—the card ran out of charges before it got to him.

  “Nobody move! I’ll kill anyone who tries to run or so much as twitches. My name is Tailyn Vlashich, and you’d better believe I’m dead serious.”

  His last sentence pinned the Carlians to the ground better than any glue. The name of the boy betrothed to the duke’s disgraced daughter was too well known in the empire to be thrown around lightly.

  “You sure took a while,” Valanil croaked weakly. While Tailyn had been scaring the Carlians, Forian had jumped in to free his woman.

  “There you go making your own faults other people’s problems,” Forian cracked. “Why didn’t you do a better job with your students?”

  “They’re your students too... It’s good to see you. Got a regeneration potion? I’m not sure I can heal on my own.”

  Just then, one of the people farthest away from Tailyn decided to risk making a run for it. He figured the columns would keep him safe, though he couldn’t have been more wrong. Valkyrie’s bolts cut straight through stone.

  “Tailyn, no!” Valanil screamed so loudly she just about fainted. “Don’t kill anyone!”

  “I told them not to move,” the boy replied with a shrug. It was a strange re
quest—if he’d been in the herbalist’s shoes, he would have torn them all to pieces with his bare hands.

  “Okay, just don’t you dare kill the duke,” Valanil said. “Everything will have been for nothing if you do.”

  “Valia asked me to keep him alive,” Tailyn said. “So, he’s... Wait, what do you mean?”

  Instead of replying, Valanil straightened up, her jaw clenched in pain. The potion worked quickly, but there were just too many wounds. It was going to take a couple hours to heal her completely. Taking in a deep breath, the woman spoke loudly, her voice echoing throughout the hall.

  “My name is Valanil Revolt, and I bear this name by right of birth! As the eldest daughter of the Duke of Carlian, I demand recognition. I demand my share in the clan and the inheritance as well as the right to lead it after the death of the duke!”

  “Impossible! Imposter!” There were only ten people in the hall, and they all forgot in an instant that a dangerous enemy had a weapon pointed at them. As far as they were concerned, the seventeen-year-old had lost her mind. Only the duke stood wide-eyed as he recognized in Valanil the very same beauty from the past. The one that had almost been the trigger for a war with the mages.

  “By the right that is mine by birth, I demand divine intervention! Let the god confirm my claim on the house of Carlian,” Valanil said, leaning her weight on the table as she finished. The last of her strength was gone. Still, she stood tall, unwilling to show weakness.

  The group in the room fell silent when they heard the dangerous phrase. For a while, nothing happened, and Eralas even felt a smile creep over his face as he anticipated the punishment that would be coming for the girl’s impudence. But that was when the air was shattered by the thunderous voice of the god.

  “You have been heard, Valanil Revolt. I recognize your right to intervention.”

  There were no statues as had been the case in Culmart. Instead, there was a pause as the god decided how to proceed.

  “Valanil Revolt’s right to an inheritance has been confirmed! Her name has been added to the journal of succession in the presence of the clan head and eight of his representatives. The rules of the house of Carlian have been met—Valanil Revolt is the eldest daughter of the Duke of Carlian!”

  The silence that fell over the hall was music to Valanil’s ears. Even if it hadn’t been the way she’d wanted it, the result was the same. She’d laid claim to her rights. And that wasn’t all—she had one more thing to do. Pointing at the duke, she spoke in a sharp voice.

  “Now, Tailyn, you can kill the old fool. The Carlian clan will be mine!”

  Chapter 17

  “THIS WAS A TERRIBLE IDEA,” Valanil had no problem saying as she finished wrapping the duke up with a long rope. The rest of the Carlian clan representatives were already looking about ready to turn into butterflies.

  “Tailyn made the right move,” Forian replied. “You can’t manage the clan from Mean Truk, and you’d be taken out at the drop of a hat here in the capital. The viceroy isn’t going to forget about his son being kidnapped.”

  “Ridiculous,” Valanil said with a snort, everything about her oozing disappointment. But deep down, she was exultant. After the first wave of euphoria, she’d realized what she was getting herself into, and she appreciated Tailyn insisting on letting her father live. If he’d died, she would have had to reconcile herself both to a life in the capital and to the Carlian clan dropping in the rankings, something that would have directly impacted their earnings. None of the other imperial families would have accepted a mongrel upstart even if the emperor had personally made her duchess. But with her father still alive, she was going to earn ten percent of the family’s yearly profit. And nobody could lift a finger to stop her—the rule was set in stone. Of course, she had to leave the rest of the clan’s upper echelon alive, too, given that it needed at least six senior members to maintain its status. Everything was too complicated for the simple girl. But with gratitude not one of her strengths, all she did was hold out a hand insistently.

  “Tailyn, give me the key. I need to do this myself.”

  The boy handed it to her and gestured toward the secret door. When he’d emptied the inventories of the Carlians, he’d found a strange key without a description in addition to the valuables, over two hundred thousand coins, and more than half a million gold. A quick check with Valia told them the giant piece of metal opened the door to the treasury. The only problem was that she didn’t know where exactly the treasury was located, her father having never told her. Raptor and perception saved the day, however, analyzing every nook and cranny in the palace and eventually coming up with a door hidden right there in the main hall. As it turned out, the treasury was hidden inside another hidden space itself disguised to look like a storage unit. While everything in it was beautiful, the value suffered from the fact that it was human-made. Nothing was worth more than fifty thousand gold. Not a single coin. If it hadn’t been for Raptor, the actual Carlian treasure would have gone on gathering dust. But Valanil had decided against that outcome—she wanted payment for what she’d been through.

  There was a click as the secret room’s security system recognized the heiress and let her into the clan’s holy of holies. The group’s eyes widened. While the room wasn’t large, it was packed with all things shiny and glittering. Most of the collection was epic and glowing purple, but there were a couple gold legendary pieces, too. And they weren’t cards; they were items.

  “There’s no description!” Tailyn exclaimed in frustration when he tried to read about a gold scroll. The same thing happened when he picked up an intricately carved horn. Nothing was available to him.

  “Same here.” Forian glanced over at Valanil. “Can you see anything?”

  “Nope,” the herbalist replied, barely able to pull her eyes away from the treasure. “We can’t take anything since this is the foundation of the Carlian clan wealth. If they leave the treasury, the clan loses its status.”

  “Since when did you start caring about your relatives?” Forian asked in surprise.

  “Ever since I started getting a tenth of their income—that’s around a million coins a year,” Valanil said as she finished reading through the warning that had popped up. “Keep your hands in your pockets and don’t touch a thing. The chamber of commerce headed up by the viceroy keeps close tabs on everything here, so we’ll just take the coins in that bag. Although, no, we can’t just take them. It’s a little more complicated than that.”

  The Carlian heir (Valanil Revolt) invested 6500000 coins in the development of Mean Truk. Investment term: 10 years. Return: 10% of yearly profit.

  “Forian, I very much hope you’re doing your best to minimize profits,” the herbalist said with a smile once she wrapped up the process. A chorus of indignant and muffled murmurs could be heard coming from the main hall as the Carlians realized what Valanil had just done. Judging by the reactions, they weren’t excited about the new heiress taking all their coins.

  “Let’s go!” Tailyn couldn’t wait to leave the residents. Completely ignoring the trio, the servants continued going about their business, Forian estimating that they would wait an hour before going in to check on their masters. No more. In that time, the group had to disappear into the capital—the Carlians and imperial guards were going to hunt them. It was only when they got out of the palace and flagged down a cart that Tailyn let out a sigh of relief. The first part of the plan was complete. And with that, he pulled out his intercom and dialed the only available number to set in motion the second part.

  “We’re ready. The prisoners are with me.”

  “We’ll be at the rendezvous in an hour. Wait for us there,” Sadil said before hanging up. They couldn’t go back to Forian’s residence—that was where the search would begin. At least, it was Forian’s former residence, the treasurer sighing heavily as he read the message that popped up.

  Your estate was sold.

  Tailyn switched carts three times exactly the way Sadil had told
him to. They needed to cover their tracks, although he knew all too well how easy it would have been to follow them. Stepping into an empty building under repairs, he waited until the cart driver headed off before hanging a red rag in an empty window. A covered wagon pulled up a minute later, Sadil’s people helping the runaways leave the building without being seen. Fifteen jostling minutes later, the horses pulled up to a small but attractive residence. Madame Lazul had agreed to host the trio.

  A curfew is in effect for the capital! All residents are required to return home and prepare for inspection. Violators will be eliminated on the spot.