The Azure Dragon

by Vladimir Vasilenko

  "I really didn't know," I said, turning around. "Local magic tricks."

  "That's cool! I did a couple of tattoos the size of a palm in the real world. Each took many hours and was painful."

  "Artar, baby. A living fairy tale."

  "Yep. A fairy tale with an unhappy ending," she said in a sad voice.

  "What makes you think that?"

  "I don't know... For some reason, I'm scared, Stan. I have a bad feeling."

  "About today's expedition?"

  "About everything."

  She clung to me, and I realized that she had chills running down her body. The water of the waterfall was far from warm. Her lips were trembling, and her skin was covered with goosebumps—I felt them while stroking her.

  A short whistle from the bushes made her shudder and hide behind me covering what could still be seen with her hands.

  "Hi!" Viper muttered, looking at his feet, embarrassed.

  "Okay, what do you need?" Kata snapped over my shoulder.

  "Well, I wanted to tell you about the meeting at the menhir. You'd better hurry up. Anyway, I warned you about swimming in the local rivers."

  "Yes, we're coming!”

  After the guide disappeared in the bushes, Kata and I got out of the lake, shaking ourselves off. In fact, getting dressed took only a few seconds thanks to the interface. I had no time to clean my armor though.

  Terekhov, Sting, and Bers were sitting on a log that was the border of the menhir safe zone. Viper and Edge were nearby. The latter was asking the former about something on the map.

  "What were you doing there in the bushes?" Sting slyly narrowed his eyes.

  "Don't be jealous," I said calmly before Kata could blurt out something.

  Bers looked at us gloomily but said nothing. I did notice that he stopped picking on me as much as he used to before. Apparently, he's grown to respect me. My perception and attitude to everyone have also changed. It's funny to think how immature I was less than a month ago, looking up to the seasoned and leveled up soldiers.

  Something small and squealing fell on top of me. Then it immediately clung to the straps of my armor, crisscrossing its arms at my back and chest. I almost screamed in surprise but quickly recognized the baby vanara. The little guardian of the jungle hasn't grown much during my absence, but he seemed to have missed me. He expressed his emotions awkwardly, but his enthusiasm made up for it. He rubbed his head against me like a cat, excitedly climbing on my back. He even bit my ear for some reason. Probably, because he was overwhelmed.

  I calmed the pet, and he took his usual place on my shoulder.

  "Okay, almost everyone is here now," said Sting. "Leo, where's Doc? And Daniel? I heard you told them to come in first. But now, we have to wait for them. Don't tell me they're like Mongoose and Kata…"

  He covered his mouth with his hand in mock horror and almost at the same time received a slap from Bers.

  "They're coming," Terekhov said calmly. "Doc had an excuse to be a couple of hours late. Dan went with him to help out."

  “What are they up to?" Asked Viper.

  "They need to finish a class quest."

  "Really?" Bers frowned incredulously. "We're kind of in a rush right now."

  "There is no harm. Look at Mongoose. He was away doing his monk things and brought back a lot of useful information about Uobo. As for Doc... If you recall our first encounter with the vanaras, he was the only one who could do any damage to those rabid gorillas.”

  "Right! His Asai zombies ate one of the vanaras alive."

  "That's it. We can't compete in brute force with vanaras. Therefore, we need to focus on magic and long-range weapons. Sting, Edge, and Doc have to be protected by any means in a battle."

  "But that's what we always do," shrugged Viper. "The close combat fighters should distract the enemy. But most of the work is done by sorcerers and archers. Well, the assassins kill off the wounded ones and those who try to escape. Healers conduct the orchestra. Of course, they also heal and give buffs."

  "It's different with us," Sting sighed. "We don't have healers, and we are already used to that. Basically, the whole tactic boils down to the fact that we have Dan. We throw him into the crowd like a bowling ball, and he smashes everyone. Bers, Kata, and Leo strike and slash the enemies before they can come to their senses. I just cover from above. Doc, in general, could only provide emotional support at first. He just cursed all the enemies. Believe it or not, it's demoralizing. Then he learned some spells."

  "What about Mongoose?"

  "Mongoose joined us recently. He's more of a spy than a fighter. He is a monk, you know. Although, recently, he's been getting better at chopping down the enemies. Right, Stan?"

  Viper shook his head.

  "Apparently, you were lucky enough to come across noobs. No offense. I've known you for a few days now, and I see that you are all worthy soldiers. But heroism isn't enough. You need discipline and coherence."

  "Oh, stop preaching!" Bers waved at him dismissively. "I feel like you're going to say that Dan needs a shield because he is a tank."

  "Well, actually, you're right. This blows my mind. You basically have only one shield for the whole squad, and that shield does not even belong to the main tank."

  The bushes near the menhir started moving and cracking under someone's heavy footsteps.

  "Why do I need a shield when I'm like a wall myself?" Daniel boomed, appearing from the thicket.

  And he was probably right about that. Clad in thick armor, with spiky shoulder pads and his orichalcum helmet, he was just a walking iron rock, clanking while taking a step like a robot. He had his giant mace on his shoulder, and in his free hand dragged the corpse of a large Asai lizard entangled with ropes. He looked as if he was carrying a shopping bag.

  Doc showed up right after him, and there was another Asai next to him, like a trained shepherd, already raised from the dead, with burning green eyes and a predatory grin. Behind the necromancer, looming over his right shoulder, there was something that was simply terrifying.

  From afar it looked like a scarecrow dressed in rags, swaying in the wind. At a close look, it became clear that the lean body of the creature was assembled from bones, scraped white, and topped with an elongated horse or reindeer skull, speckled with some runes. The empty eye sockets of the skull glowed with green fire, and its shape was unveiled in a whitish fog, especially dense on the bottom, making the long cape diffuse in it. Because of the fog, it was unclear whether the skeleton hovered above the ground or rhythmically followed Doc on foot. Peeking out from the wide sleeves of the robe, its bony palms were disproportionately large and constantly moved as if someone pulled some invisible strings attached to it.

  The creature caused a vague sense of unease, and the closer it moved toward us, the higher and more intense that feeling became. I felt a strange weakness, nausea, and that irritating feeling that you get right before a shiver that comes from perhaps a feverish chill. Looking back at the others, I realized that they felt the same way—all of them cringed while Viper and Edge backed away all together.

  "Sorry, guys, I'll be right back!" Doc suddenly said.

  His eyes started wandering as if he were looking at something that was invisible to us, but that was hanging in front of his nose. He's playing with his interface.

  The strange painful feeling suddenly disappeared—abruptly, as if by pressing a button.

  "I applied the exceptional settings to you," Doc explained. "This handsome man is able to slowly pull energy from all living things within a radius of fifteen feet. That's what feeds him. In addition to my mana."

  Looking closer, I noticed that the grass around the new pet of the necromancer became pale and shriveled as if it were in an invisible fire or rather, on the contrary, frostbitten. The eerie figure in the robe was spreading the chill. Like in a tomb.

  "What the..." Sting came to his senses and cursed.

  Doc didn't seem to have hurt feelings. He was in a good mood and felt really pro
ud for his ward.

  "Meet Karachun. My first familiar. Now he will always accompany me. He's basically a new member of the squad."

  We met the “new member of the squad” without much enthusiasm, which seemed to actually hurt Doc’s feelings.

  "What is it with you, guys? Do you know how much time and effort it took me to create it? It's a real ice lich!"

  "What other options were there?" Sting asked.

  "All kinds of them!" Doc grunted. "Normally, the first familiar is some golem made of stone so that he could tank and cover the master. But I thought about it and consulted Leo... So we decided we have enough cannon fodder in the unit. So I worked hard, gathered the necessary ingredients, and created a mage. He will be much more useful to us."

  "And what can he do?" Bers asked, looking skeptically at the bony figure of the lich.

  "You've already felt his aura. It's basically a spell that is applied to everyone who is not part of our group. He slowly drains the life out of our opponents and decreases the effectiveness of all buffs and healing spells by half. The radius will grow over time."

  "Can this aura aggravate mobs?" Viper asked right away. "Sucking life is not perceived as damage? Otherwise, he's going to gather a whole train of mobs that follow us."

  "It doesn't aggravate mobs. On the contrary, it scares the small ones away. It doesn't work on NPCs and doesn't degrade reputation with them," Doc replied, smiling as if he had prepared for this question in advance.

  "What is his weapon?"

  "He uses ice magic."

  Doc must have given his ward a signal because the lich suddenly leaned forward, and a stream of ghostly gray glow escaped his terrible mouth and hit the trunk of a tree behind me. I got chills even though the stream was five feet from me. The spot that he hit got instantly covered with a thick crust of frost that quickly began to spread around.

  For some time, Doc was standing there, admiring the effect, but then he raised his hand, and the spell was interrupted.

  "I can assure you, it won't be pretty when I let him loose on the enemies," he chuckled with satisfaction. "Ice daggers that Kata throws is child's play compared to this. Frosty breath. A streaming spell. Any of you will be dead in a few seconds just from cold burns. And no armor will save you. Plus, there is a debuff slowing down the movement."

  "But surely there is a catch?" Kata asked.

  "Mana," sighed Doc. "The longer I hold the spell, the more mana it's draining out of me. It's better if I use it for short periods of time, three to four seconds at a time.”

  "How many charges does he have?"

  "When Karachun runs out of his own mana, he starts to draw mine. However, I have even less than him because a third of it is reserved for controlling him. So in a dynamic battle, we could get away with a total of thirty seconds of Frosty breath, no more. But that's alright. I can get him geared up with mana and pump him. I can use mana potions…"

  "Can he do anything else besides the aura and Frosty breath?"

  "The breath is heavy artillery. His main attacks are ice arrows."

  Demonstrating his abilities, Karachun waved his bony paws and threw a pair of icicles twenty inches long into the same tree. One of them shattered like a crystal vase, and the other stuck into a crack in the bark and remained sticking out, exuding florid streams of frosty steam.

  "That's impressive," Terekhov praised, circling around the lich, though still keeping a respectful distance from it.

  "There is one problem though—Karachun is quite fragile," Doc complained. "So in battle he'll need a good cover."

  "Yep. Especially from long-range attacks," grimly observed Viper. "When opponents understand what he is capable of, they will try to take him out first."

  "He's not afraid of the long-range ones. Arrows simply fly through between his ribs. He has 75% of resistance against elemental magic. And 100% against poisons. However, a couple of good crushing blows and he just falls apart. So don't let any melee fighter get close. Although, of course, I will try to protect him as well. I have other pets for this."

  Doc proudly patted the Asai zombie on the scruff, and the creepy dead thing started to purr, lifting its fanged face.

  While the necromancer held his mini-presentation, Daniel tied the corpse of the second Asai with a rope and threw it on its back like a backpack.

  "A stash," he replied, answering our silent question. "Doc requested."

  "If I now raise two Asai in addition to Karachun, I will be down on mana," Doc explained. "But in battle, I might raise the second one for support. So let Dan take the material. It is not hard for him, and I get help."

  "It's all fine and dandy, but let's decide what we should do," Viper growled. "I suggest we go back. We're too far into the jungle. As a guide, I'm useless now. I don't know these places. Let's sign back in the game at the Great Menhir, then go back to Uobo on Shadowbirds."

  "You're crazy!" Sting and Bers protested in unison. The rest weren't enthusiastic about the idea either.

  "You're right—we've come a long way," Terekhov said when everyone had calmed down a bit. "So you suggest we just drop it now? Besides, our mission hasn't changed. Genghis has asked us to deal with these fucking vanaras. And we will. Now, thanks to Mongoose, we know exactly how to stop them."

  We had given Viper a scoop on what was going on, excluding the details about our confrontation with Genghis. He wasn't happy then either.

  "Yes, I've heard that! Mongoose got to the Lake of Life and the monkey king told him about the mutinous shamans of the Whispering Oak. I don't know... It all looks suspicious. You shouldn't trust that crazy monkey so much. Anyway, we've seen those shamans. We'll never be able to take them out!"

  "Do you have any other options?" Bers parried.

  "No, but…"

  "After all, we're not holding you," Terekhov shrugged. "You were assigned to us as a guide. But you said that you're useless now. So if you want, you can go back to the camp. And we'll go our own way."

  The guy looked at us and gritted his teeth, which was evident by the swollen nodules on his face.

  "No, I'll go with you. Don't think I'm a coward."

  "No, it didn't even cross my mind," quietly continued the paladin. "Just don't forget who the squad leader is. Maybe we're not very good with tactics and discipline, but everyone is obliged to comply with the orders."

  "Yes, sir," muttered Viper. "Alright, where exactly are we going then?"

  "This question is not for me."

  Everyone turned to me. In turn, I looked at our little messenger—the monkey king promised to keep in touch with us through the vanara cub. I had no idea how, though.

  Meeting the baby's eyes, I shuddered involuntarily because instead of the usual piercing blue eyes looking at the world with an expression of enthusiastic curiosity, two black holes were staring at me now—the cub's pupils have expanded so much that they filled the entire iris, and his look became glassy and detached.

  In a moment, the monkey, tenaciously grasping my neck with his hand, whispered in my ear with the familiar voice of Hanuman.

  "Your enemies seem to be much quicker than I thought. They're already close to the first fiery tear. Lucky for you, I know a shorter way. But hurry, my little hairless friend!"

  Chapter 17. Kongamato Nest

  Adrenaline is basically just a chemical compound. Thus, it shouldn't make a difference for the body how it is produced, for instance as a result of you being chased by some hellhound or going down a roller coaster or, as an extreme, being caught peeping in the women's locker room.

  But in my experience, adrenaline can be different.

  It's like saying that beer, wine, single malt whiskey that's been aged for twenty years, and muddy moonshine of dubious origin are all just diluted ethyl alcohol. However, bluntly speaking, there is a difference between these drinks.

  Similarly, I have learned to distinguish different varieties and shades of adrenaline. I even have a favorite kind. It's subtle, intoxicating, exciting, making y
ou tremble like a disturbed string—both from fear and anticipation and... I don't know what else. Maybe the awareness of my own arrogance. That's the feeling I had running through my veins when I climbed the lattice glass facade of the Obsidian. When was that? It seemed like it happened in a past life. And now this feeling was flaring up inside me again.

  Challenge.

  Our unspoken confrontation with Genghis had entered a stage where there is no turning back. If we get caught, it's over. The last illusion of working together as a team shattered. This was not even a disagreement, not an internal protest but direct defiance. Sabotage.

  On the other hand, if we succeeded, it could change everything.

  I was flying on the middle tier of branches, almost without thinking, driven only by instinct, and I loved this feeling. It's been a while since I experienced it last. Actually, the whole philosophy of parkour is based on trusting your body, reflexes, and clearing your mind. It was like catching an ascending air flow with the wings of a glider. A second ago, you were just a man messing around with some clumsy construction in your hands; and suddenly, an invisible force picked you up and basically made you a demi-god.

  Needless to say, I was far ahead of the Hounds and even lost sight of them, but it didn’t matter because I had told them the landmark, and I wanted to get there before them and look around.

  The cub clung to my armor straps and sat silently on my back. Perhaps, he was even quieter than usual. Maybe he was recovering from being possessed by the monkey king. Through this little oracle, Hanuman gave me something like a vision or a mirage. The feeling was similar to hallucinating. But I have to say that it was much more informative than if I just had pointed at a spot on the map with my finger.

  A couple of miles from the menhir through which we entered the game, I saw a large cone-shaped rocky formation, similar to a volcano, but consisting of a loose porous yellowish rock. It was something like sandstone or tuff, eaten away by deep ruts, wrinkles, and gaping black cavities in some places. There were no big trees on it, so from above, it looked like a kind of bald spot in the jungle, barely covered with thin bushes. It resembled a giant walnut taken out of the shell and half buried in the ground.