The Azure Dragon

by Vladimir Vasilenko

  "But I liked his suggestion much more than our original agreement. I don't like when I have a million in debt, even in game currency. Weekly payments in eurocredits would suit me much more."

  "That's it? Anyone can just buy you?"

  "Not me. My service."

  "What if someone offers more?"

  "I'll let you know about it."

  "So you're suggesting I take your word for it?"

  "Why not? Why would I bite the hand that feeds me?"

  Clam shook his head sadly.

  "Oh, boy, I wish you knew how many times I've faced ingratitude. Not in games, but in the real world. But suppose I can give you a chance. How much money are we talking about?"

  "I need my own Eidos modem. And a regular salary for my daily expenses. Genghis offered me one hundred and fifty euros for each gaming session. I play every day, so it'd be forty-five hundred a month. It's a good income, I think. But I'd be happy to receive occasional additional bonuses."

  "I see. Anything else?"

  "No," I shrugged. "I want you to know that Artar is not a job for me. I like it. And I just want to play there for fun. I'm willing to help the Hounds, but sometimes I'm more interested in acting alone. It's better for upgrading too."

  "Well, you do realize that I'm not going to pay you just to play for fun, right? I'm not Santa Claus."

  "I know," I sighed. "I'm willing to help in any way I can. For this mysterious cause of yours."

  "Is it mysterious to you?" Clam smiled.

  "Honestly, yes. And sometimes it pisses me off. You play us like pawns on a chessboard. But sometimes it'd be nice to understand what it's all about. At first, I thought you were messing around with the totalizator. For example, when you needed to make some soldier weaker right before the battle…"

  Clam shook his head indignantly.

  "Really, Stan? You think I am involved in such insignificant affairs?"

  "Well, your business has something to do with the totalizator, right? Terekhov and Genghis told me about it."

  "They might have not given you the right information or you didn't understand it correctly. We don't cheat on bets. It would be a failure for my entire business."

  He sighed and looked around the room, either gathering his thoughts or wondering if it was worth the time to explain. Finally, he continued.

  "You see, the betting business is quite simple at a first glance. Take football, for example. There are teams. There is a championship, and you collect bets on the result of the match. Just business. But in fact, football is not just chasing the ball on the field. This is just the tip of the iceberg. Dozens of factors influence the results of a match. And all of them need to be watched if you want to be successful in this business. Player transfers, reports of injuries, doping samples, the change of coaching staff, all sorts of undercover intrigues within the teams... Football is like a comet's tail. It is much bigger and more multifaceted than the match itself."

  "I understand. In Artar, apparently, everything is about the same."

  "Yes. But Artar has its own specifics. In fact, there we form the market from scratch. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

  "To be honest, not really. For example, you were angry that Edge sold the adamantite to the Legion. But you recently played along with the Legion to strengthen it."

  "Not that long ago.”

  "Yes, a couple of weeks ago."

  "In real time. Four months have passed In Artar, and a lot of things have changed."

  "So now you're not playing along?"

  "I'm not playing along with anyone! That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm sort of Artar's antitrust committee. In the context of the betting business, it is good for us to have dozens of different guilds operating there, which would constantly fight among themselves, without getting too much advantage. We need chaos, Mongoose. And if there is not enough of it, we are ready to spread it."

  "Well, I think, they don't need you to instigate fights. That's human nature."

  "Unfortunately, it's not true. In similar games of previous generations, developers usually immediately divided players into warring factions, and then fueled hostility. In Artar, all players are on the same side. The majority start in the same city to be put against the wild and hostile continent. It brings people together. Of course, there was competition between from the beginning, but not as strong as we would like. On the contrary, there is a new tendency of small guilds merging with larger ones."

  He was probably right. I didn't think about it that way. I missed the difference in time. When you play long game sessions in Artar—twelve or fifteen hours—you do not really notice it. Each individual player feels like he just lives in two worlds, a day there, a day here. But, when he leaves Artar, time there continues to gallop with speed eight times greater than in real life. And in the scale of the development and interaction of guilds, this difference becomes very noticeable. The game is only a month and a half old. But in the game, a year had already passed. That's a long time.

  "So, you pit people against each other and rake in the big bucks from it? How classy."

  "Come on," Clam smiled indulgently. "The concept is old as the world itself."

  "Well, how can I help you?"

  "Don't be coy. You played a key role in the conflict between the Dervishes and the Corsairs once already."

  "Yeah. Without knowing it. And I did not like it."

  "I know. I have people of all kinds in my team. Because the tasks are very different. For some, thugs with no imagination, like Genghis, are best suited. Others need a different approach."

  "So what task do you have for me?"

  This time Clam couldn't resist his trademark dramatic pauses. Although, perhaps, this time he was deliberating.

  "I really don't like these stories with DrakenBolt and Hanuman, Stan. My consultants say that NPCs shouldn't behave like that."

  "How would they know that? Artar is the first project of its kind. It is silly to use the old measurements in its regard. Eidetic technology, you know."

  "Maybe. But, anyway, the NPCs are just a function. It's a good thing they're not stupid computer dummies, of course. But it bothers me that some of them are behaving quite... reasonable. And that's strange. In densely populated locations such as Golden Harbor, this is not observed. The deeper you go, the bigger the likelihood that you come across prodigies like our vanaras or DrakenBolt."

  "Do you think it has something to do with the amount of exposure and communication with the players?"

  "Perhaps."

  "But then those NPCs who often communicate with us should be smarter. That makes more sense, doesn't it? Because they self-learn."

  "Yep. But what if they have become so intelligent that…"

  He leaned forward and finished the sentence softly, in a low voice:

  "...they learn to pretend?"

  "I don't know, it sounds a little paranoid."

  “Anyway, I must know exactly what I am dealing with. I've been investing big money into this, so paranoia is inevitable. And these investments will begin to bring a return no sooner than in a few months."

  "I get it."

  "So I want you to try to purposefully look for all sorts of oddities in NPC behavior. And, of course, report everything to me. This will be your main and indefinite task. I think you should be able to do that. And then we'll think about how to use all this information."

  "What about my terms?"

  "I agree to them. But you will report directly to me from now on. I'll give you assignments from time to time. So will Terekhov and Genghis. But in their case, you can decide whether you can take them or not. My orders, of course, are not up for discussion. Sound good?"

  "Absolutely! Can I get out of here now?"

  "Tomorrow. You have unfinished business. I think the next game session will have to be held early. Rest for a couple of hours, or as much as required by medical standards, and go back to Artar.”

  "Yeah, Ngala and the other shamans are probably waitin
g for us there. Is that all?"

  "For now. I texted you my direct number. Be in touch. This, of course, does not mean that you should call me for nothing. But if you find out something important—get in touch right away, without waiting for me to call."

  "Got it."

  "Perfect. Get some rest. And good luck in your contest, Mongoose!"

  Chapter 23. The Height of Heaven and the Depth of the Earth

  Every time I see a scene in a movie where some dumb character and their girlfriend climb a rock or a building facade and the guy yells: "Don't look down!" I roll my eyes. Because it's the same thing every time. The girl looks down and, of course, this makes her lose the remnants of self-control, and she falls. Another outcome is when some hero grabs her at the last moment and pulls her out of the abyss.

  I like to look down. Otherwise, why climb high at all?

  When you climb, something clicks in your mind. People are land creatures, who are used to looking at the ground under their feet. When they see the world from bird's-eye view, something switches.

  The branches closer to the top became much thinner, so the Stinger wasn't of much use anymore. I had to climb, using my arms and legs. The trunk was no thicker than a telegraph pole and swayed in the wind.

  I took a short break and looked around. The Celestial Tree justified its name. The crowns of the other trees swayed far below, like a green sea with rare islands. It was still no less than fifty feet to the top. But only there, I could get the cherished seeds.

  Ugh, well, last push!

  The Hounds camped not far from the tree, on the bank of the nearest river. They didn't go too close to the shrine in order to avoid unnecessary bloodshed. The vanaras of the Celestial Tree were forced to yield to Ngala and allowed to build an altar next to the tree, but they did not submit completely and reacted with unusual aggression to the subsequent invasions of their territory. While the Hounds distracted the tree defenders, I slipped past them and started climbing. I think they noticed me at the last moment but stopped chasing as soon as I touched the bark of the tree. However, while I was climbing, I caught a few attentive looks from the branches—the vanaras were watching me closely.

  The top of the tree had a sort of umbrella that looked similar to the inflorescences of dill, only fifteen feet in diameter. It was not easy to wade through the tangles of flexible, thin branches, but I finally reached the top edge of the giant inflorescence.

  The tree was shaking here, and thin branches bent and sprung under my weight. I clung to them with both hands and letting go of one of them to reach the seeds took a great effort of will. I wasn't afraid of heights, but I was very afraid of falling.

  I now knew why these seeds weren't guarded: one needed remarkable courage and skill to get to them. I could imagine how hard this test would be for someone who had no experience of climbing.

  The seeds were like badminton shuttlecocks, only with pointed cores, with which they were attached to the fleshy green flesh of the inflorescence. Just in case, I picked a few pieces and, relieved, started my descent. Contrary to all the rules, it was easier. I just put the Stinger in the trunk of the tree and slowly let out the rope to go down, barely clinging to the branches.

  Acorns from the Whispering Oak already rested in my inventory. Having the head shamans as allies made acquiring them a lot simpler. So I needed one last ingredient to challenge Hanuman—the light of the One who stops the flow of rivers.

  “What took you so long?” Genghis grumbled when I returned to the Hounds.

  "Well, you know, there's no high-speed elevator," I retorted. "Did you miss me or what?"

  All the way I could not deny myself the pleasure of slightly trolling Genghis. Though he remained the commander of the Hounds, he was obliged to provide me with any help I needed for today's mission. He wasn't in charge of Terekhov's squad, either, since Leo’s squad has received a special status of an autonomous unit. So now Genghis could inflate his nostrils as much as he wanted and move his eyebrows menacingly—none of us were afraid of him anymore. He would never defy Clam's orders. Small mischief is not his scale either.

  I was actually under the impression that Terekhov and Genghis have reconciled after the conversation with Clam. Not that their conflict was completely exhausted, but the tension visibly subsided. They were like two dogs, that went tooth and claw for the territory, bared their teeth at each other, and parted their ways, recognizing the power of the enemy. Until next time.

  This time, our squad wasn't as numerous as at the battle of Jubacca. In addition to three shamans, Ngala, Mtamba and Kham, we were joined by Genghis, Karim, Kali and Viper. In fact, Viper asked to join our squad for good. Apparently, he liked us. Or perhaps, he had his eye on Kata. Genghis, of course, gritted his teeth, but let him go. The rest of Terekhov’s unit didn't seem to mind. Well, why not? The guy was smart and a good fighter.

  We didn't need to gather a lot of people because we didn't plan on having a large-scale battle. I had to play a key role. The role is honorable, but to be honest, the closer we came to the Lake of Life, the more I started to worry. If it worked out, I'd rub it in Genghis's face. At the same time, I'd complete the quest for the Master of the Wood Element, and this time, I was going to break away from other candidates by a long shot.

  If I screw up, though, it'll be an epic fail.

  It didn't take us much longer to get to the Lake of Life than it did when I was climbing the top tier of branches alone. With such a detachment as ours, no obstacles could slow us down. On the contrary, we were looking to hunt local animals as I needed to get more Qi for at least a few pearls. As a result, by the time I got to the lake, I had five glowing balls in inventory. A small thing, but heartwarming.

  "What if this monkey king just attacks us?" Kali grumbled, looking warily around the lake shore.

  "He wouldn't dare," Ngala said in his resonant voice that sounded like it was coming from a chimney and hit the ground with his staff.

  The staff was the size of a young uprooted tree. It was so thick that I wouldn't have been able to put my arms around it. Ngala's paws, on the other hand, were so huge that he could crush human skulls like nuts, and he looked quite organically with this weapon. The staff was uneven, winding, and twisted in some places, but without any carvings. It looked like it grew out of the trunk of the Whispering Oak like that. I wasn't sure about Kali, Doc, and other mages, but I physically felt the force emanating from this burly staff. Qi was concentrated in it, curling into tight vortices and spirals, similar to a spring compressed to the limit. I felt bad for those, who would have to deal with this force coming down on them.

  "I doubt he'll even show up," Mtamba echoed the words to the older brother. "He knows why we're here. And even though he's crazy, he knows he's trapped. Currently, he can find salvation only under the shadow of the Eternal Banyan. His power is still great there. But he can't hide there forever."

  "What's our next move?" Terekhov asked.

  As always, he was as clear as he possibly could be. Unfortunately, in the current situation, I couldn't give him unambiguous answers.

  "Ugh, we need to look around. Let's look at those ruins first. I need to see if they will work for my plan."

  "Do you have a backup plan?"

  "Honestly? Nope. That's why they should work. Doc, what's with your potions? Are they ready?"

  "Partially. But I have all the ingredients. We'll have to mix them on the spot. I hope I have at least half an hour?"

  "I think so. But you know what you need? They must not explode! Hanuman will not even notice the explosion, but I'll go straight to the menhir."

  "I know better, Stan!"

  "Okay, go ahead," I chuckled.

  I looked back at the lake, carefully examining its surface. Mokele-Mbebe wasn't there yet.

  "I need another part for the ritual offering to the Azure Dragon," I reminded the shamans. "The light of the One who stops the flow of rivers. I've seen him once before. Do you know when he comes up to the surface?"
<
br />   "I thought you knew," Ngala shook his head disapprovingly. "Finding the four parts of the offering is a trial. The seeds of the Celestial Tree can only be obtained by one who is able to rise above the clouds, overcoming his fear. To get the fruits of Jubacca, you need to defeat death itself. Whispering Oak acorns are a reward for the most persistent ones."

  "What will it take to get the last ingredient?"

  "Patience."

  I sighed. That was my weak spot. I hate to wait.

  "So you don't know when I should watch for him?"

  All three shamans shook their heads.

  "He might not appear on the surface for a few days," said Mtamba. "Other days, he might emerge five times in one morning. In ancient times, Xilay monks spent long hours sitting by the lake, meditating, and waiting for this beast. See those flat, round rocks along the shore? They say they are left from that time."

  "Are you kidding? We don't have that kind of time! Neither do you. Maybe there's some way to lure him out."

  The shamans looked at each other and for some reason grinned together.

  "There is. But you're not gonna like it."

  I squinted incredulously and looked back at the others. They only made a helpless gesture. What could they tell me anyway? I started this mess myself, and I'll deal with it.

  "All right, the hell with you! I'll give it a whirl."

  Ngala nodded silently to his kin, and the two of them went away from the lake.

  "Go see the abandoned city, Mongoose. We'll meet you at the same place. We need to prepare something."

  Oh, the mystery! I had no choice but to trust the gorillas. They certainly understood more than I did about the subtleties of Uobo. More than any other player, for that matter.

  Frankly speaking, the ruins of the ancient city of vanaras disappointed us. From a distance, they looked like a pile of moss-covered white stones, but getting closer, we expected to see the remains of the former luxury, some ancient palaces with fanciful bas-reliefs on the walls, cracked from time, majestic dilapidated arches and fragments of statues…