Nothing like that. From up close, they looked the same—hewn slabs of white marble, gone deep into the ground and overgrown with moss. The ruins weren't big enough to have been a city as the occupied area was hardly a couple of hectares—it was just a small town. Only the outlines of the outer walls and the foundations of the largest buildings could be clearly distinguished. There were many remains of columns, either sticking out vertically or lying on their sides. Some were split apart as if someone took a huge sledgehammer and smashed them. The tallest of the remaining sections of the walls was not much taller than a man's height, and most of the debris barely reached my shoulder.
At the far edge of the ruins, at the very inner edge of the crater, stood a huge rectangular pedestal, on which, once stood a statue of a humanoid creature thirty-three feet in height. Only the bottom part of its body stood the test of time, and even that part was pretty tainted.
However, specifically for my goals, these ruins were perfect. I immediately figured out the route, starting from the edge of the lake and ending at the pedestal with a stump of the statue. I ran over it once, jumping from slab to slab and maneuvering between the wreckage. Then I gathered the rest of the crew and spent a lot of time explaining what I needed. Especially from Doc. Only then I reluctantly returned back to the lake. Something was telling me that the Whispering Oak shamans were cooking something I really wasn't going to like.
I got back just in time. All three shamans were here. Kham clutched a thick six-foot long bamboo stalk in his paws, sharpened on both sides. About half a dozen fluttering carcasses of medium-sized incanaby were laying at Mtamba's feet. Ngala was busy tying the pieces of strong vines into one long rope.
"So what's your great plan?" I asked.
"There are many legends about the exploits of the monkey king," Ngala replied, not taking his eyes off his work. "One of them tells about how Hanuman outwitted the One who stops the flow of rivers."
"Yes, this legend was one of my favorite ones when I was a child," smiled Kham.
"Well, go ahead and tell me."
"Oh, it's too long, and it starts with Hanuman's quarrel with the nine-headed one," Ngala waved dismissively. "Not knowing other legends and heroes of Uobo, it will be hard to understand. But there was a scene about Hanuman trying to get some scales from the sides of Mokele-Mbebe. He was impatient, so he didn't want to wait for the huge glowing beast to rise from the depths."
"But he knew that Mokele loves fresh incanaby meat," Mtamba chimed in. "These fish don't live in the Lake of Life, so for Mokele, they are a rare treat and the best offering. What Hanuman did was wallowed in incanaby blood and dove into the lake."
"Attracted by the sweet smell of prey, Mokele approached Hanuman," continued Kham. "And tried to swallow him!"
He made a gesture with his hands, depicting a huge biting mouth.
“But Hanuman thrust his staff into his mouth so that he could not close it, leaving the great beast helpless. The monkey king had stripped so many scales from his skin that he had left a dark spot on one of the sides. When he took out his staff, Mokele-Mbebe, ashamed, disappeared into the depths and did not emerge on the surface for thirty moons."
That seemed to be the end of the legend as the shamans looked at me with happy faces. I stared at them with bulging eyes.
"So you really think this shit's gonna work?" I asked, trying to make it sound less insulting. Pissing off hot-tempered gorillas with fists bigger than your head is not a good idea.
"Maybe," Ngala said evasively. "But it's just a legend. And I must say that Hanuman often... embellishes his accomplishments…"
Well, great! I'm supposed to be bait and thrown into a lake to lure out a monster the size of a railroad car. At the same time, they are not even sure that this plan will work.
"Maybe there are some other options?" I asked without much hope.
The shamans shook their heads.
"You can, of course, wait until Mokele emerges on his own. But, in any case, you will need to get close to him to get his light."
"By the way, does that mean I need to get some scales? Are they tough?"
"You won't need scales. It glows because it is covered with a special mucus. That's what you need. Just slide your hands on its sides and it will remain on your palms."
I sighed. Well, there's no other way. Besides, if you think about it, it's not even the craziest thing I've ever done in my life.
They decided not to cover me with incanaby blood because it would quickly wash off anyway. Instead, they literally decked me with their carcasses, pinning the fish heads to my belt. It turned looked like a fish skirt. They tied the rope around my body, and a couple of loops were slid under my arms. It turned out quite reliable.
"Just remember: if I tug on the rope twice, pull me a bit upward. Three times–pull me out completely."
The shamans nodded in unison and led me to the water. By this time, most of the squad had returned from the ruins and was also watching my misadventures. Mostly everyone tried to encourage me, only Sting, as usual, was goofing off.
I deactivated all the armor in the equipment slots. It wouldn't be helpful against the beast's teeth anyway. There I was, walking into the lake in canvas shirt and loose trousers, and I felt like I was wearing my birthday suit while walking into a cage with a tiger. The water was warm and kind of thick—it almost had an oily feel. I turned on the water breathing as soon as I submerged into the water and started swimming.
The bottom of the lake sharply went down just a few feet from the shore, and then it was like a well with almost vertical walls. Light passed through the water with difficulty, and I could barely see the sun above me. Soon there was nothing left but a frighteningly dark depth.
After some time, I almost stopped moving my arms and surrendered to the will of underwater currents. They were slow but powerful and pulled me inexorably away from the shore. At the same time, I was submerging deeper, though it was difficult to estimate the depth. I could no longer see the surface of the water, and I felt lost in the dark blue heavy obscureness of the lake. The sounds also subsided, and I heard only the muffled gurgling and hissing of water as I turned my head. I also heard the sound of different-sized bubbles rising from my mouth.
Breathing was no different from normal, only some squeezing occurred in the chest. The incanaby bellies were slit, and during my immersion their blood and pieces of offal wrapped around me like a dark cloud. Not the most pleasant feeling, let me tell you. Mokele should like it, though.
In a little bit, I reached a certain point of balance between the force of gravity and the force with which the water pushed me back up. It'd take some effort to go lower, which wasn't exactly what I wanted. In addition to that, the rope—that flimsy umbilical cord that tied me to the shore—suspiciously tensed up. It looked like I'd already used the full length.
Well, the bait was in. Now I just had to wait for the fish to bite.
I had to wait a lot longer than I thought. I slowly drifted in the water depths, experiencing a sudden sense of absolute peace, serenity, and detachment from all the burdens and bustle of life. The feeling that existed only here, being cut off from the world deep under water.
In the end, I was so carried away that I missed the moment when Mokele-Mbebe showed up. I realized that it was close only when I saw a vast glowing spot right under my feet. It was already quite close and quickly grew in size. I was overwhelmed by contradictory feelings. On the one hand, it was good that the plan worked. But deep down, I was hoping that the beast wouldn't show up.
When you are approached by a living whopper like this one in an alien environment, some animal instinct is triggered. It was difficult to cope with fear. I almost dropped my bamboo pole. But then, I grasped it so hard that my fingers could be open only if someone cut the tendons. I turned it parallel to the bottom and pulled the rope a couple of times, letting them know to pull me higher.
Here, under the water, Mokele-Mbebe's glow was especially noticeable. The sight wa
s fascinating. The huge sloping carcass moved smoothly and gracefully in the dark water, barely moving its wide fins. Its head reminded a crocodile from a close distance. It was elongated, with a narrow toothy mouth. In the meantime, this mouth was moving directly toward me, opening up and showing me its bottomless black throat. It was almost like a well opened up under my feet.
The rope tightened, pulling me a little higher and toward the shore. I clung to the pole with both hands, holding it at the level of my thighs and slowly turning it so that it fit exactly across the open mouth, and its pointed ends would sink into the monster's tongue and palate.
And it worked! Accelerating, with one movement of his mouth, Mokele tried to swallow me whole, but instead, bit the bamboo trunk with a wet crunch. Gr-r-r-r, this would be the same as pricking a toothpick in the roof of a mouth! It's gotta hurt!
The long, womb-like rumble that spread across the lake was proof of that. My insides vibrated from the monster’s cry as if from the low-frequency speakers nearby.
We did not consider only one thing—that all this would be happening in the water. So the plesiosaur-sized beast coming at me with an open pie hole created a vortex that almost immediately sucked into its throat. I had to grab the pole to resist the suction, which yanked me around the pole a couple of times like I was some sort of a horizontal bar gymnast. When I let go of it and tried to swim away, something tugged at my belt.
God damn it! The rope is tangled around the pole! I'm stuck!
I was really scared now. I don't think I’ve ever panicked so much before. However, I don't remember being ever swallowed by such a huge creature, either.
Desperately floundering, I tried to grab a hold of the rope, but it suddenly slapped me across the face, pulling like a string. The pain blinded me, and my cry burst a cloud of air bubbles from the lungs, completely blocking the view.
The giant shook its head, trying to get rid of the splinter in its mouth. But these fools on the shore kept pulling the rope, so the beast had to swim to the surface to try and ease the pain. I stupidly hung in its mouth, now and then bumping into its sharp teeth. Finally, I managed to grab a hold of its upper jaw. Meanwhile, my feet were getting sucked inside its mouth with the flow of water. The current was strong—the beast seemed to be rising rapidly to the surface.
I fired the Stinger at point-blank range, driving the tip into the top of its face. I got the chakram with my other hand and tried to reach the tightened rope. I cut it exactly when the head of the monster already appeared on the surface, throwing up a fountain of spray. I was thrown to the side, and if it hadn't been for the Stinger, I would have fallen into the water. But I jerked like a fish on a hook and slammed my whole body into the giant's neck. The rope of the Silver Stinger began to unravel, and I slid down the giant’s neck, scratching painfully against the hard, like sandpaper, scales.
Howling, Mokele shook its head, trying to get rid of the pointed pole. I felt like a crazy cowboy who decided to ride the biggest bull in the world, who also lived in the water. I was thrown back and forth and slammed against the monster's neck. To reduce the amplitude, I should have retracted the rope, but then I'd have to pull myself up close to its face again.
Nope, I'd rather do it this way.
Suddenly, there was a loud crunch. The bamboo pole broke like a match and the monster's mouth finally slammed shut. It immediately went back underwater, dragging me along. I released the Stinger and remained floundering on the surface. Water breathing stopped working, so I gulped a lot of water before I realized where the shore was. I could distinguish the sounds of unanimous shouting of the Hounds coming from the shore.
Only when my feet touched the hard ground, I finally managed to emerge from the water and grab a full chest of air. Daniel and Terekhov were rushing towards me, stomping and raising clouds of spray. They picked me up by the arms, dragged me to the shore, and laid me on a large flat stone belly up.
"You okay? Are you hurt? Doc! Where the fuck are you?!"
"Calm down! He's fine. See, he's breathing?"
"So? He's covered in blood!"
"Just a lot of scratches. Apparently, the beast’s teeth scratched him."
"Just treat him!"
I turned to the side and suddenly, not expecting it, puked half a bucket of water directly onto the boots of the necromancer. He shook his head reproachfully.
"I'm sorry," I breathed.
Trying to wipe my mouth, I spat in disgust. My hands were covered in thick viscous mucus that tasted bitter and smelled like fish. I was covered in that shit from head to toe!
In addition to that, this slime glowed so brightly that it was visible even in the light of the sun.
A huge shadow loomed over me, and I looked up. Ngala. The head shaman of the Whispering Oak shook his head approvingly and gently ran two fingers over my shoulder, collecting some slime.
"You did it, Mongoose. It is the light of One who stops the flow of rivers. However, it was not necessary to collect so much. This much would be plenty enough…"
He rubbed the slime with his fingertips and showed me a glowing palm.
"Well, I decided to take some extra just in case," I said casually, struggling with a tremor in my voice. I was still pretty shaken up from the experience. I hoped it could be attributed to the chills after diving.
"Rightly so!" Doc exclaimed.
He picked up a flat shell from the ground and ran it over my arm like a scraper, collecting the slime.
"What are you doing? Get off me! Let me just wash this stuff off."
"Are you crazy?! It's the rarest ingredient! We need to collect every drop of it. We'll be rich! Look, your shirt is soaked in it. Take it off!"
Without waiting for my consent, he pulled my canvas shirt over my head. I was too exhausted and overwhelmed by the emotions of the experience to resist.
"Wow, Mongoose! That's a rad tat!" Sting whistled. His cry was echoed by several more voices.
The shamans acted unexpectedly.
"Black Turtle?" Ngala said in a strangled voice, and his face fell in amazement.
"Yes. Why are you so surprised? Or did you think I came here to goof around?" I grinned and squared my shoulders. "Once I kicked the Black Generals' butts. Let me rest a little, and then bring on your Hanuman!"
However, the shaman remained extremely serious and even a bit frightened.
"When you said you would challenge Hanuman, I thought it was just a way to buy us some time. I didn't think you were seriously going to win."
"You underestimate me."
"Perhaps. I will say only one thing—if you manage to defeat him, you will become another legend of Uobo."
I took a deep breath, hiding my grin. I looked around the sparkling surface of the lake.
"Speaking of legends, Ngala. I don't know if your monkey king was lying about that story with Mokele, but I think I saw a dark spot on the monster's side."
Chapter 24. One-on-One
It was cool and quiet in the shade of the spreading crown of the Eternal Banyan. Birds chirped, butterflies fluttered, and the wind rustled the leaves. In general, the only thing that was missing from this blissful picture was small unicorns, pooping rainbows. But I walked carefully and stealthily, as if on a minefield. Ngala assured me that Hanuman would not be able to attack me here, especially when I was unarmed and holding sacred gifts. However, I didn't count on the prudence of the monkey king and the fact that he would follow the rules.
Coming closer to the Banyan, I looked at the bas-relief on its trunk, depicting a dragon. I bet the picture moved since the last time I saw it! I certainly didn't remember all the details, but the last time the dragon's head was definitely turned in the other direction, and the curves of the body were a bit different. Although, it shouldn't surprise me in the world of sword and magic.
I carefully dug up a hole in the ground with my hands and put the fruits of Jubacca, Whispering Oak, and Celestial Tree in it. Smothered in glowing Mokele-Mbebe slime, they looked like exotic Chri
stmas decorations. I sprinkled some dirt on them, leveled the surface, and sat down next to it, crossing my legs. The shamans didn't say how long I would need to wait. That meant, for now, I could pass the time meditating.
Before I could finish one cycle, a sprout showed up from under the ground. The sight was fascinating. At first, there was a dark green stem as thick as a pencil coming from under the ground sharply as if pushed out by someone. It quickly stretched out, split, and released tight wax leaves. At the end of it, an oblong bud began to grow, gradually changing its color from malachite to light green. In half a minute, the bud reached the size of a good bulb, and then opened, spraying around a cloud of glowing pollen.
Instead of a flower on top of the stem, a tiny dragon flared up, woven from green light—with a long, almost snake-like torso, four legs, and a small crest along the entire ridge. I reached for it, but it quickly began to melt in the air. This is when I heard shuffling footsteps.
"I challenge you, Hanuman!" I said the phrase that was supposed to start the test. Almost immediately, I heard a distant gong, probably audible only to me, and the corresponding system message flashed before my eyes.
You successfully challenged the monkey king to a contest. Select the type of competition and the reward for it. Hanuman will demand a return bet in the event of your defeat. Be careful: you cannot renegotiate without canceling the quest! You can challenge Hanuman again no earlier than 90 gaming days.
"I see, I see!" I heard a disgruntled voice behind my back. "Why else would you come here again?"
Hanuman looked the same, but something about him changed dramatically. I didn't even immediately realize what.
It was his gaze and the manner of speaking. I didn't know whether the former oddities of the monkey king were feigned, or sudden mood changes were also part of his former image. There was nothing left of his antics—he looked at me warily, attentively, and with ill-concealed malice. He held his massive, ornate staff with one hand, casually slinging it over his shoulder. Golden ribbons that decorated it, swayed under the breath of the wind, like small narrow flags.
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