by Pavel Kornev
Somewhere on the very edge of my vision a new message kept flashing: an offer to raise my character level. Still, I had more important things to do than stat boosting. That could wait. Everything could wait. Except escaping.
I wondered whether returning the remains was worth the time, or whether I should hurry over to the unblocked tower. The battle was still seething in the city with no sign of letting up. The players who’d arrived on the barges had joined the fray unhesitantly, eager to get their share of fame and XP. And the deadmen had nowhere to retreat to.
“Uncle John!” the boy shouted. “The lighthouse is burning!”
Indeed, the top story of the tower was now enveloped in a uniform glow, visible even in the sunlight.
The boy followed me down into the basement. I hadn’t told him to clear off. I didn’t care anymore. Time was an issue and I really didn’t want to waste it on pointless arguments.
The darkness of the tomb welcomed me as if I belonged there. So much so that I wanted to sit down on the bottom step and close my eyes burned by the bright outdoor light just for a moment. Still, I overcame myself, hobbled over to the crypt and flung the bag of bones into a robbed-out grave.
“Well?” I shouted because no system messages had appeared.
“Bury it!” a ghostly voice rustled.
My broken right arm still didn’t move, so the boy volunteered to help with a shoveling. When clumps of earth began to fall onto the bag of bones, a silvery glow rose under the vaulted ceiling.
“I am the Grand Master of the Order of the Silver Phoenix!” the ghost announced solemnly. “I am inseparably connected to the lighthouse, the last surviving sanctuary of the order. The renegade tried to cast a curse in the city with the help of my mortal remain. He summoned storms and high winds. You two have stopped him and deserve a decent reward.”
“Us two?” I frowned in confusion, but then one of the stone slabs collapsed, revealing a hiding place within the wall. Inside was a long chainmail shirt fashioned of some silvery metal.
Deadman Set: Changed.
Deadman Set: Saved.
Excellent! The spirit hadn’t lied to me in promising me an item from the kit.
Silver Scale (Set of the Dead Man: 5 of 13).
15 Armor.
Stealth: +5.
I donned it straight away. Even though it reached my knees, it didn’t hinder my movements due to the deep side cuts on the hips. The sleeves surprised me a little: the right one only reached the elbow while the left one was nowhere to be seen. Strange.
“That’s not all,” the spirit announced solemnly. “You have the great honor of reviving the former greatness of the Order! Please accept the sacred knowledge of the Silver Phoenix!”
There was a flash of silver. A sharp pain pierced my head.
Damn it! I couldn’t remember the last time I’d sensed something like that!
Attention! Your race, profession or religion does not allow you to join the Order of the Silver Phoenix.
The task “Stolen remains” is completed!
Experience: +3 000 [17 478/18 100]; +3 000 [17 522/18 100]
Undead, the level is raised! Rogue, the level is increased!
I read the system message and laughed out loud. Somehow I doubted they refused to accept humans — or executioners, for that matter. Most likely, they had a sign on their front door, “Only for living beings”! If that wasn’t segregation!
But then I looked at the red-haired boy, and I immediately began to laugh.
The boy was enveloped in a bright silvery glow.
Bang! The word “boy” disappeared from his description, replaced by the following,
Neophyte of the Order of the Silver Phoenix. Level: 1.
What the devil?! Spirit, you bastard, what have you done?! Change it all back now!
But the ghost had already left us, and the only thing that remained for me to do was dig up his skeleton, shatter his joints and suck out his bone marrow.
I didn’t. I should have, but I didn’t.
“Hey, boy,” I said wearily. “What’s your name... Neophyte ... Neo! Give me my skull back!”
“Of course, Uncle John!” the lad said as he walked over to me and complied.
As if mocking me, the game system had added a new line with his name to his description. Neo. Now the boy was called Neo.
You bastards! You should all be blown to kingdom come!
Children enjoyed full immunity in the Towers of Power. No one could harm them. But only children. And the boy had just had his category changed. From now on, he was a Neophyte of the Order of the Silver Phoenix and therefore, any scumbag could kill him and take my skull.
That bastard lighthouse keeper had really done the dirty on me. How I wish I could resurrect him only to kill him again!
I struggled to pull myself together, grinding my teeth in impotent fury, and headed for the exit.
“Come on, Neo!” I called the kid who skipped along behind me.
Oh Jesus. Now I had him to take care of.
If he got killed, would he return to the game? I doubted it very much.
I got goose bumps down my spine. True, Neo was only part of the program code, but I’d spent too much time in the game just to unflinchingly write him off. That didn’t sit good with me.
When we came out of the basement and went out into the street, I was seething inside. I just didn’t know what to do. I had no idea. And I still had to lug the skull around with me!
The cliff offered a view of most of the city. I shaded my eyes with my hand and squinted, but couldn’t see much in the dazzling sunlight.
“Neo!” I called. “Have they already taken the city?”
The boy stood beside me and said, “Yes, the dead were forced out into the hills.”
“Excellent!” I chuckled as I stepped onto the path. “Come on, then!”
We had to get out of Stone Harbor while we still had a chance. Leveling up could wait. We needed to escape.
Escape!
Neo trotted along beside me. “Uncle John, where are we going?”
I’d already forgotten what normal communications were so I answered without hesitation:
-”First to the Tower of Power, and onto the capital by portal.”
The boy froze in his tracks. “I can’t.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “Why? Didn’t you want to see the capital?”
Neo sniveled and shook his head. “I can’t go there, Uncle John! I have a quest!”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
A message window opened obligingly,
Would you like to join the “Restore the Temple of the Silver Phoenix” quest?
[Yes / no]
I cussed quietly and answered in the affirmative, hoping to be able to decide on the quest’s deadline, but nothing changed. Neo was still in charge. As we came down from the hill, he kept talking about the temple. There was no way I could change his mind.
Let the boy go alone? And how long would a level-1 character last outside of the playpen? Five minutes? Ten?
But I couldn’t afford to waste time on some stupid quests! The ruins of the wretched temple were located in the floodlands a day’s travel away. By the time we got there and come back... no.
Also, I had no idea how long it would take us to restore the temple. To hell with it! To hell with the phoenix!
The path led us to the road. I decided to and I decided to tell a little white lie.
“Let’s do it like this,” I offered the boy. “We’re going to go to the Tower of Power and-”
“Watchful Stare”!
I didn’t turn around and let on that I’d sensed danger. I simply gasped, “Run!” as I held the grip of my flamberge. Thankfully, my right hand had already begun to knit and I could move my fingers.
Neo darted off down the road. A whizzing sound sliced through the air. My Evasion forced me to duck. An arrow flashed overhead and sank into a tree, its white flights quivering.
; I stepped to the side, then dove as another arrow disappeared into the foliage. I hurried to stealth up. My chainmail changed its color to a strange dull gray and clung to my body like a knitted jumpsuit, turning into steel scales.
I swung round. But before I could dart off, two chained spirits went for me. My high Evasion had now paid for itself a hundredfold as I effortlessly dodged the malicious specters’ attacks. They turned round but lost their impetus. I raised my bone hook, cleaving one of them in two and wounding the other.
Both dead!
The brief combat had thrown me out of stealth. I bucked sideways but failed to outsmart the archers. Both hit me. A barbed arrowhead hit my chest but bounced off my chainmail. The other hit my unprotected left shoulder and pierced it through.
Although it didn’t hurt, the complex pattern of magic runes covering the arrow’s shaft began to glow with a scarlet flame, activating the spell which blocked my stealth mode.
I didn’t panic nor did I lose my footing. I dashed for the bushes, then immediately changed direction missing the next two enchanted arrows. Without stopping, I raise my arm and easily bit through the shaft with my sharp teeth.
The wood snapped. I was free, lurking in the shadows.
I was invisible again. And it might take the necromancer some time to resummon his chained spirits.
But my joy was short lived.
“Set the hell hounds on him!” Garth Deathblade shouted. — “Move it! I need his skull!”
With a popping sound, the hell’s gates opened somewhere nearby. I rushed off. A bone-chilling howling echoed behind my back.
Chapter Five. The Cursed Temple
1
I WAS RUNNING. The hell hounds howled behind me, closing in. So I had to run.
I’d been lucky in one thing: the demonologist had failed to bring the infernal creatures under his control straight away. By the time they’d started chasing after me, I’d already put a considerable distance between them and myself. Still, I wasn’t even trying to confuse my tracks but simply scarpered along the road as fast as I could.
The river. It was my only chance. No amount of hell hounds could get me once I’d gotten to the bottom.
Yes, but how about amphibian mercenaries? Dammit! I just hoped Garth hadn’t had the intelligence to hire some divers. Or had he?
The uncertainty of my situation hadn’t forced me to lose my step. I sprinted like mad, trying not to even look at my rapidly dwindling Stamina bar.
I just had to lose them, that’s all.
It didn’t work though. And I didn’t get to the river either.
The hell hounds were much faster than myself. Their forked serpent tongues quivered with excitement; their eyes glowed with scarlet fire; the poisonous saliva frothed and hissed on the cobblestones. Those sinewy long-legged monsters with sharp claws and broad jaws chock full of sharp teeth bore only a remote resemblance to real dogs. No idea what had prompted the game makers to class them as canines. They couldn’t see me, but their otherworldly instincts allowed them to follow me everywhere. You could neither escape nor hide from them.
Reluctant to waste my last precious stamina points, I grabbed at a bush growing on the slope and climbed onto a high boulder. Leaping from one boulder to the next, I began climbing up the steep hill. But the moment I’d reached the trail I could see from the road, the first of the demonic mutts leapt gracefully after me.
The archers, the necromancer and the demonologist had fallen far behind. I drew my flamberge and turned to face my pursuer. The hell hound opened his terrible jaws, howled and lunged at me, swift and fearless.
Too fearless and not swift enough.
The curved blade of my sword met the infernal creature halfway, chopping his front leg off at the joint. The smell of sulfur rose in the air. Drops of black demonic blood fell onto the grass, setting it on fire.
“Crippling blow”!
Yes! Who would have thought that the Dog Slayer achievement would have come in handy again?
I stepped back, looking for another vulnerable spot, but the crippled creature had lost its balance on the steep slope and tumbled back onto the road to its impatiently howling buddy.
Without wasting my time, I hurried along the path hoping to cross the summit and hide from my pursuers on the other side of the hill. Almost immediately, the first arrow hit the rocky soil. The impact reverberated through the air. I had to hide in the shadows. The moment I’d done so, I heard Garth Deathblade yell,
“The skull! I’m only paying for the skull! Whoever brings me the skull will be rewarded!”
The archers froze with their bows drawn as they peered into the shadows trying to detect the slightest stir in the undergrowth which covered the hillside. The demonologist kept the crippled hound and sent the other one away on some sort of mission. And if that wasn’t enough, I saw three black gladiators climb after me with their nets and tridents.
“That’s it, you wretched creature!” Garth shouted. “Now you’re finished! I’ll destroy you!”
I was dying to come down and make mincemeat out of him. Still, I didn’t turn back. The gladiators kept climbing up the slope, fast and agile, gradually closing in. I could tell this wasn’t the first time they’d had to chase invisible prey.
Lots of things can betray a stealthed-up player: the echo of their own footsteps, the quivering of a tree branch, or even their own smell.
Twang! A long arrow pierced the ground less than a foot away from my head. The archers with their maxed-out perception could be a big problem too.
“The skull!” Garth raged below. “Don’t let him hide the skull!”
I cussed and kept going, trying to get to the hilltop as soon as I could. My haste had almost become my undoing as I lost my footing and very nearly tumbled down the slope.
The moment I regained my balance, I heard the victorious howling of a hell hound overhead. The blasted creature had reached the hilltop before me!
The beast had successfully blocked my retreat route. The gladiators were close on my heels. The archers were ready to stud me with arrows like a porcupine.
What could I do in this situation?
Nothing. Die as a hero, I suppose.
Alternatively, I could hide the enchanted skull so that my pursuers couldn’t find it. But what could I do with it? Where could I hide it?
Funnily enough, Garth gave me an idea.
“A double reward to someone who’ll bring me the stone skull!” he kept screaming, encouraging the gladiators.
The stone skull?
Really?
I reached into my inventory for the skull. Not my own, you understand. The crystal one. The one I’d rescued from the Death Disciples dungeon. There was no way you could tell them apart from a distance, especially if you’d never seen either of them before.
I took an almighty swing. The crystal glistened in the sunlight. And just as I did so, another arrow pecked the skull, knocking it out of my hand. The artifact rolled down the hillside, bouncing off rocks. Forgetting all about me, the mercenaries rushed after it, trying to catch the useless chunk of crystal.
I continued my climb. The hell hound overhead was hissing and spitting venom — but the necromancer who’d summoned him was now too busy rummaging through the grass in search of his artifact. The pooch tried to claw me; instead, I sort of clawed him myself with the “Soulkiller”. The bone hook sank deep into the creature’s flesh. I jerked hard, throwing the monster off the hilltop.
The infernal creature tumbled down, leaving scraps of his hide on the boulders. Its impatient howling had died away, replaced by plaintive whimpering. I set one foot on a cracked boulder and pulled myself up to the top.
Immediately I heard screaming coming from the foothill,
“It’s the wrong skull!”
My heart missed a beat. The advantage I’d thought I’d gained with my clever maneuver had turned out to be too short-lived.
Having said that... it looked like I’d underestimated the power of human
greed.
“Pay us now!” one of the mercenaries demanded.
“But that’s not the right skull! That’s not the one I need!”
“We don’t care! Close the task now, noob!”
I didn’t wait for their discussion to end but began climbing down the opposite slope. Luckily, it wasn’t as steep.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the clanging of metal and the sound of an explosion as someone had activated a combat spell.
I didn’t give a damn. I didn’t even look back.
I had to hurry.
2
TRAVELING with NPCs has its advantages: while I was legging it trying to escape the mercenaries, Neo had already managed to procure a boat.
Procure? Hmm ... I knew the boy didn’t have any money. Which meant he must have stolen it.
Still, I wasn’t too interested in the moral side of it at the moment. Straining the last of my powers, I finally reached the destroyed bridge.
“Uncle John!” the boy waved his hand to me. “I’m here!”
Before that, I hadn’t bothered to track Neo’s position on the map too closely. Which was why the presence of the boat turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
I collapsed into it. “Let’s go!”
Neo kicked the boat away from the river bank and took up the oars.
“Everything all right, Uncle John?” he asked, steering the boat away from a collapsed bridge pillar.
I raised myself on one elbow, looked around the deserted shore and grinned. “Yeah, for the time being.”
I just hoped that the mercenaries and necromancer had failed to find common ground and consequently smoked each other. Or had at least sent Garth back to his respawn point. And if the guild of mercenaries blacklisted him, as well... that would be excellent. On his own, he was an absolute nobody. Also, he wouldn’t be able to track my location on the map. There was no way he’d be able to find me.
