The Azure Dragon

by Vladimir Vasilenko

  "I always knew I couldn't trust the hairless!" He pursed his lower lip in disdain. "Your promises don't mean very much!"

  I didn't argue with him, and not only because I didn't want to piss him off even more. He was right in his own way. We betrayed him by turning over to the other side. For us, the players, it was trivial things. We just took maximum profit from the conflict of the NPCs, but for them, it wasn’t a game—it was their life.

  I remembered my conversation with Clam and felt a little uneasy.

  Who am I dealing with now? With masterfully designed artificial intelligence or with a full imitation of someone who feels part of this world? And for which this world is the only real one?

  Well, Hanuman was acting like an NPC at the moment and obeyed the game laws. I brought the necessary quest items, and he came. He didn’t attack me, either. This would be against his own rules. But what about all these emotions? Were they written scripts or a display of real feelings?

  Hell, how much easier it was when the characters of computer games were just a set of pixels on the monitor!

  "Why waste time on talking, Hanuman?" I finally said. "You know what I'm here for."

  "Do you think you deserve the title of the Master of Wood?" With barely restrained fury, he grunted. "You?! A hairless upstart who first appeared in Uobo just a couple of moons ago? The one who hasn't even mastered the basic techniques? By tricking the bearer of the great trees? Could you have challenged me to a duel if it hadn't been for the help of the whole squad of other jackals in iron clothes?"

  "We're not jackals, Hanuman. We are the Steel Hounds."

  The red vanara only growled in response and jerked forward as if he was going to pounce on me but turned at the last moment and just made a circle around me. I pretended I didn't notice it. I sat relaxed, motionless, and looked at the raging monkey as calmly as if we were separated by bulletproof glass. At least that's how it was supposed to look from the outside. In the depths of my soul, I had already laid so many bricks that it was possible to build a mausoleum.

  "Oh, yes, you are quite an assailant!" He shook his head. "Worse than jackals. Worse than a colony of Siafu, wandering through the jungle and devouring everything in its path. There is no escape from you, hairless!"

  He suddenly slumped, dropped to the ground in front of me, and fell silent for a long time, bowing his head. He put his staff in front of him, and I couldn't help but look at it. A thick shaft of dark, almost black, polished wood entwined along the entire length of greenish stems with tiny petals. At the ends, there were massive thickenings, similar to flower buds, decorated at the base of narrow gold ribbons. A powerful, beautiful weapon. I looked at it for so long that the system even gave me a hint.

  The staff of the monkey king.

  Rarity: legendary.

  Unfortunately, I couldn't get more information, and it wasn’t due to the lack of Intelligence. Most likely, I needed to hold the staff in my hands.

  "So, I can choose the type of competition, Hanuman," I reminded. "And the prize."

  He looked at me from under his brows, and I shuddered involuntarily. There was no fury in his eyes. Only melancholy, despair, and blazing cold flames of hatred.

  "Oh, yes. You can," he said quietly. "Don't think I don't know why you're doing this. I don't think you're stupid enough to hope to beat me. But I will have to follow you and leave this place. That's all the damn shamans of Whispering Oak are waiting for."

  I nodded.

  "Well, at least you're honest here," the vanara chuckled. "I seem to have lost this war with The Whisperer. However…"

  The sparks of madness danced in his eyes again.

  “However, I still have one more battle. With you. And trust me, I'm gonna smear you like a slug. Well, what do you want?"

  "If you lose, you give this to me."

  "My staff?! One of a kind? A legendary weapon you can't find anywhere else in Artar? A symbol of the monkey king's power?!"

  "Yep. Or do you see some other staff here?"

  "That's high stakes. You sure you can even the odds?"

  I admit I hesitated. Ah, if I had known in advance that I had to offer something too, I would come here, wearing only pants, having left all the equipment with one of the Hounds. Moreover, for this competition, I didn't need anything except for my own body.

  "What do you want in return?"

  "All beads from your Path Thread!" Hanuman blurted.

  I snorted contemptuously.

  "My Thread, in addition to cheap beech beads, has Nuy Va Tear and two masterpieces of Janji Hae. You're asking for all this to be put against some wooden stick?"

  "You call the monkey king's staff a stick?!"

  Hanuman lost his patience, and, jumping up, spun the staff above his head. The stalks on its shaft lit up with emerald flames, the buds at the ends flared. The vanara slashed his weapon on the ground to the right of me. At the time of the blow, the shaft seemed to have stretched out three times and bent as if it were made of rubber, not wood. The impact was so strong that the ground beneath me started shaking like an earthquake struck it. I rolled to the side, jumped to my feet, and shook my head, getting rid of the stun effect.

  A long scar-like trail ran through the clearing at the place of impact. A long, narrow imprint of the staff was clearly visible. Smaller tracks, like cracks in the glass, were coming off it to the sides. The grass along the entire length of the trail was withered and twisted into tight, brittle spirals.

  Hanuman obviously wanted to hit the ground a couple of more times, but he restrained himself. The staff in his paws still glowed.

  "All this is the Gushing branch," he said. "One of the simplest skills of the Wood battle school. But this is what it can do when using my staff. This weapon can belong only to a true master. You don't deserve it."

  "I'll be worthy if I take it from you. Isn't it true?"

  "Go ahead and try," Hanuman nodded. "But keep in mind, the competition must be worthy of me."

  "How about a race?"

  The vanara was taken aback for a moment. He tilted his head to one side and raised his eyebrows.

  "Pardon me?"

  "Let's race. Just you and me, one on one. No magic. No weapons. But I choose the route."

  "Where do you suggest we run?"

  "Not far from here—to the ruins of the abandoned town on the other side of the lake."

  "You mean..." Hanuman said cautiously. "You hope to outrun the One who jumped the ocean? In his own city?"

  "No magic!" I said. "No turning into a giant, no jumping over your head and other tricks. I won't use any skills, either of the Water or Wood Elements. We rely only on our own bodies."

  "The hairless is hoping to outrun a vanara?" Hanuman laughed. "You're even more stupid than I thought!"

  I just spread my hands, barely holding back a smile.

  "Well, so what do you say? Are you ready?"

  Instead of answering, Hanuman suddenly clapped his hands, and I was blind for a second. Blinking, I found myself standing on the shore of the Lake of Life, near the ruins. Hanuman impatiently danced nearby.

  "I said no magic!"

  "But the contest hasn't started yet," the vanara chuckled.

  A few minutes were spent on final preparations. The Hounds gathered on the edge of the ruins, perched on the wreckage of the slabs sticking out of the ground, as on the spectator stands. The start marked a long section of the wall, with one edge ending with a vertical beam, that could have been a remaining gate from an arch. I marked the farthest point of the route at the pedestal of the destroyed statue that was at the inner edge of the crater. In a straight line, the distance was five hundred feet, so it was decided to run to the pedestal, grab one of the white cobblestones the size of a coconut laid out on it, and bring it back to the start. So the second part of the way was more challenging because we had to run back while carrying a stone.

  "Start at Daniel's signal!" Terekhov warned.

  The paladin's shield was suspended from
the ropes so that it became a kind of gong. Daniel's two-handed mace had to substitute a beater. Although if I were Terekhov, I wouldn't have let my shield be used for these purposes.

  I deactivated all the equipment slots except pants, boots, and fingerless gloves. I didn't even have a shirt on since it was covered with the luminous Mokele slime and I gave it to Doc.

  We stood at the start, and the sun warmed my bare shoulders and back. My shaved head was getting hot from the sun. Squinting from the bright light, I looked to the sky. It was already past noon, so the sun was close to the horizon, but it wouldn’t be shining us straight in the eyes on the way there or on the way back.

  The race, in fact, promised to be hot without it.

  "Doc!" I shouted, giving the signal.

  The necromancer broke away from the crowd of onlookers and began to hustle near a large fragment of a column that looked like a stone stump. Soon there came the familiar hiss of the wicks and the trickle of smoke.

  "What's that?" Hanuman sniffed suspiciously.

  "Well... Just to make it more interesting," I smiled.

  The wicks that Doc had put in all the ruins hissed in unison, and soon the explosions began to clap one after another. As we agreed with Doc in advance, it was his new recipe, which wasn't an explosive potion, but something like napalm. I saw him fill the first few pitchers. The liquid inside was oily, viscous, with a pungent smell of some rot. But it burned remarkably and as the necromancer promised, there was enough of this fuel to last at least five minutes. That's all I needed.

  In a matter of seconds, our route was transformed and was brought to life with infernal colors. In some places, the flames rose up high, licking the fallen columns with wide tongues while in others, they were barely smoldering, but giving off a dense smoke. The smoke and flames made it hard for me to see the other side of the route. The fire show had a much greater effect on Hanuman.

  The vanara's fur stood on end, and he seemed to have grown in size. His back arched like an angry cat. By god, if he were to fluff his tail and hiss at me, baring his fangs, I wouldn't be surprised. Nevertheless, he froze, eyes wide from watching his city engulfed in flames.

  That meant that my plan worked. All animals are afraid of fire. Vanaras, like it or not, are animals too, though reasonable and able to speak. Even during our fight near the Whispering Oak, I noticed how they reacted to Kali's spells. Her firebirds were far from the most destructive to them, but they were more frightened of them than all the swords and spears of the Hounds combined. It was certainly not easy to frighten the vanaras, according to our multiple encounters with them.

  Hanuman finally turned his head with difficulty.

  "I knew it! You're a sneaky bastard…" He growled.

  He didn't have time to finish. Daniel's mace banged on the improvised gong.

  I immediately rushed forward, jumping over scattered low debris and overcoming the L-shaped skeleton of a brick wall, towering a couple of feet above the grass. The burning potion was spilled along the top edge of the wall, but most of the glass was on the opposite side. So at the top, I touched the fire only in passing, successfully pushing it off with my palm. The heat flared in my back. I barely even felt the pain due to the excitement bubbling in my chest.

  To the right and slightly behind me, Hanuman, who seemed to singe his tail, furiously growled.

  I rushed forward with all my might, mentally praising myself for having thought of draining all the Qi charges before going to the contest with the monkey king. Otherwise, I would be tempted to activate Splash or Frog's Leap. Giving the enemy an excuse to accuse me of violating my own terms was not an option. No magic, no assistive devices. Hanuman even hid his staff somewhere.

  Jump! Blazing fire swept underneath me with its acrid breath.

  Shit, Doc didn't warn me that it would hurt so much! It seems much stronger than regular fire.

  The second major obstacle was the smoke. Not only was it very thick and plentiful, but it stung my eyes so much that I soon didn't see anything in front of me through the shroud of tears that veiled my eyes.

  I could do nothing about it. We just had no time to practice beforehand. I didn't want to be spotted by Hanuman while training because I was afraid that he could reveal my plans ahead of time. In addition to that, I couldn't blame Doc for trying a new recipe and not knowing what to expect from it.

  Anyway, it was basically a free-run. We ran blindly, relying only on our own skills and reaction speed. Of course, I tried to get advantage over Hanuman, but this route was a serious challenge for myself. Half a minute later, I forgot about everything, even about running the red vanara, who was neck-to-neck with me. It felt like I was one-on-one with this maze of fire.

  And it was the best race I'd ran in a long time—perhaps, even in my entire short but eventful career in parkour. I enjoyed my new, full of energy, relentless virtual body, which has long overtaken the possibilities of the real me. I probably would have given ten years of life to be able to do such powerful jumps in real life—fly into the air, starting from the wall as if bouncing on a trampoline; run forward so fast that the air begins to seem tight and resilient like water; pull my body up with one explosive hand, and soar over the edge of a wall as if gravity had no power over me.

  Time seemed to have slowed down or stopped altogether. The recent conversation with Hanuman, diving into the lake for Mokele-Mbebe, and especially the events of the previous game session became distant and irrelevant. It was a long time ago, in a past life. Now, there was just me, the goal in front of me, and another obstacle in my way.

  The magical flame from Doc's napalm was like a living wayward creature. Fanned by the wind, its tongues soared high, then drifted across the surface covered by the potion, similar to a luminous blue-red liquid. They painfully burned the open areas of the skin, and if I stepped directly into the flame, part of the potion remained on the soles of my shoes. So at times, my heels were literally on fire while I was running, and half-way, my entire torso was completely covered with burns. I didn't care. In addition, judging by the screams, growls, and persistent smell of burnt fur, Hanuman had much worse time than me, which was very helpful. Despite the fact that he was hardly familiar with the term of parkour, it was hard for me to compete with him. Even without magic, he was much superior to me in strength and skill. After all, he was a huge monkey.

  The fact that we went too far with the fire effects became clear when I reached the pedestal with the collapsed statue and picked up one of the white cobblestones, going for the one that was smaller. I turned around and saw a solid wall of grayish-black smoke with scarlet flashes poking through it. The potion has just broken out in full force, and this hell was going to last another two or three minutes. There was so much smoke that I couldn’t see a damn thing.

  I stopped involuntarily, rubbing my eyes. Should I wait it out or go all-in?

  Hanuman flew out of the cloud of smoke immediately after me. He picked up his stone and froze just like me. He was all tousled, striped like a tiger because of the black marks on his red coat. Some of the burned streaks exposed his skin and even muscle.

  He turned to me.

  His eyes were wide with animal terror but mixed with hatred and a desperate desire to win.

  Well, I'm not going to give up either, even if I have to burn myself alive in these damn ruins!

  I rushed forward, on the run covering my face from the heat and smoke and trying to recall the route by memory.

  The second half of the race seemed twice as long compared to the first. I lost sight of Hanuman, and the panic-stricken thought that he had overtaken me kept pulsing in my brain. It'd be even worse if I lost my way. I chased these thoughts away, stubbornly moving forward. It was considerably harder running back with the stone—I couldn't pull myself up or push off from the obstacles. I had to use one hand, trying not to drop the load.

  A wall of flame, much taller than me, roared in front of me, flared by an untimely gust of wind. I realized that this was the s
ame wall near the starting point of the route. Almost all of its surface was doused in the sticky flammable substance. I had to make quite a detour if I wanted to run around it. Besides, to the right of it, there was another big fire on the surface. On the left, more flames were breaking through the smoke.

  What an idiot! I personally asked Doc to make sure there are continuous strips of fire along the sides, creating a sort of hallway about thirty feet wide. Then it seemed like a good idea—I thought that it'd stop Hanuman from being tempted to go around the challenging area.

  Here was Hanuman himself. Like me, he was taken aback when he ran out to the burning wall. But this time, I decided not to play peek-a-boo with him. I needed one last push; otherwise, my whole plan could be ruined.

  I was a pretty advanced player in Artar by now, but my avatar still wasn't strong enough to jump without Frog Leap over a burning wall that was eight feet tall. I had to do the classic "cat leap"—that is, jump while clinging to the edge of the wall with my hands, and then pull up. Given that I had the cobblestone in my left hand, the grip was not very reliable, and my jump wasn't as fast as I would like. My belly, thighs, and knees were burned so badly that I almost fell off the wall.

  But somehow, I made it to the other side, though my ears were ringing from my own cry. I was especially stunned by the realization that I was burning. Literally. Remnants of a sticky potion from the wall got on my pants. My boots were blazing right on me. But the finishing line loomed just a few feet away.

  Oh, how infinitely long these last seconds were! Even when I hit the stone on the slab like a football player who had scored a touchdown, and heard the winning roar of the gong, I could not believe that I did it. I turned around, expecting to see Hanuman quickly approaching.

  But... there was no one behind me.

  I was so taken aback that I continued to stand while the Hounds, who were shouting excitedly around me, fussed, knocking the flames off me with their cloaks and throwing handfuls of sand at me. Someone ran to the lake and used their helmet to bring water, which was dumped on me and made me hiss and steam like a hot frying pan.