"They're just hungry and bored," sighed Roska. "They do not have a dad, a mom and an Uncle Orbit."
“Nor the godfather Whisper,“ the spy said, diligently smiling at the young goddess.
"Get away from my family," I growled, twisting my head around. "Anyway- where's that white tree?"
"We can look around for a few more hours," replied Malice, taking another sip from the vial of mana. "Or until morning. Maybe we will get lucky.”
“Is the tree in a random location? Or are there clues?”
“They hide it. It is not too high, in comparison with the local giants, and it is also usually placed in the lowlands. To see it from afar it was impossible. If there’s a chance to complicate the lives of players, Immortals will do it with a spiteful giggle.”
“With a spiteful giggle,“ repeated Roska. “Oh! A lake! Lake! Lake! F-f-f-fish!”
We looked forward and found that we were descending down a long and gentle slope, completely covered with a thick layer of dead leaves. At the very bottom was something like an oval lake partly hidden behind tree trunks and a layer of the same foliage. How did Roska manage to notice this deep puddle so quickly? Her angler’s soul? We saw the lake only after she did.
"Can we stop and catch a couple of fish?" Roska asked with a hope so earnest that it literally dispelled, for a few moments, the eternal local darkness.
“Of course you can,” nodded Orbit, scratching his head with one hand and scraping the top of the mammoth with the other.
“Hey!” I growled, knowing that now I would have to play the role of the evil father. “Roska, dear, we must hurry and therefore...”
"The white tree on the shore of the lake," exclaimed Whisper.
"... and therefore it is possible to fish," I finished the sentence.
“Hooray!”
“Two-faced daddy,“ muttered Kirea with contempt, giving me an unflattering look “You're not one of those fathers who will go to the park with a child only if they sell beer there, are you?”
“Poor girl,“ Kaylen the Seeker quipped.
"I'm not like that," Cray added, looking at Kaylen with the look of a man born to be an ideal father.
“Ros, you know, children should be encouraged, and desires supported,“ timidly uttered Doc. “It has long been proven ...”
"I will tear a piece of white bark for myself, too," remarked Bom, looking steadily at the shore of the lake.
“Bom!” I barked. “Anyway — I am a super father! Nothing to discuss! Daughter, go fishing. You will have a little time. Malice, what about the CLOUD?”
"We have time," answered the magician, pointing to us in a new direction. "We can breathe.”
“Can I take out the bread?” Roska squeaked in surprise.
“The cross shining in the sky has shifted,“ Malice continued. “They take aim very carefully and wants to cover a certain area only. Our flying scouts have come to see who it is aimed at, but it is not clear yet. One thing is clear: the one who follows the stump and the tower does not move very fast. But he goes confidently. Our analysts gnaw at their nails with curiosity. They ask if Comrade Whisper will take the risk for himself for the sake of everyone's good ...”
"I will not!" Yelled Whisper violently. “They wrote to me! And no way! And if I catch some incurable disease? Goodbye voyage! Hell no. Let them look for other kamikazes. Tell them so!”
"There is nothing in the lake?" I asked, watching as another pack of shaggy black wolves emerged from the semi-darkness, looked at us carefully — especially Roska — and then turned and again sank into the darkness.
“Not sure,“ answered Malice. “This is the Dark Edge, Ros. Everywhere here lives, puffs, and builds vile plans, dreaming of a moment when they could strike. I can boil the water, but it is unlikely your daughter will appreciate such an act ...”
“I will defend her,” Whisper assured me. “Consider me a ninja-nanny on hourly payment!”
Silently shaking my head, I went after Malice.
Soon we reached the lake and stopped three meters from the shore. There was a lot of rubbish on the water, and a gurgling, as well as randomly appearing circles. Something was clearly living in the lake. Roska almost squeaked with delight, getting a fishing pole with such lightning speed that I could not keep track of her. The Mage of the Sleepless, and the rest of the recruited group, looked diligently at the scene, literally scanning the space with skill and magic. It was commendable. They were much more experienced than we were, so my fighting group was able to relax.
"Probably an interesting catch," Bom remarked, scratching his green cheek thoughtfully and towering above me like a powerful steel tower. "Whisper will follow Roska, and I will make sure that her catch does not pass by our bins. These Sleepless are so cunning...”
“Agreed,“ I nodded. “And watch Roska too, please. I'm afraid for my daughter.”
“I, too, will tear off a piece of white bark,“ Kirea did not hide her curiosity, gazing intently at the purpose of our journey. Standing next to her, Kaylen nodded eagerly.
“And I will have branches for fishing rods!”
“Please, no need to break the tree,” directly pleaded Malice. “Take a piece of bark for memory...”
"I will take some of the bark too! Maybe we can cut down the whole thing?”
"Please, I am begging you..."
"Maybe we can," I said, looking around impatiently. "Well? Am I the first to risk it? Malice, is there any direct prohibition?”
"If you harm the tree, other than taking a small piece of bark, then next time it will not give you anything," the sorcerer sighed. "Other than a branch to the face."
I spread my hands and smiled.
"It won’t do any harm to me. And Roska ... I do not think that, in the future, she will need a bark of white wood to increase the stock of her ordinary mana.”
"And I will not need it,” Bom lifted his arm. “Unless it is for sale. But you have to tear the bark yourself, right? So you cannot sell it.”
“Damn you,“ surrendered Malice. “Greenpeace on you, destroyers. Break it, chop it and go ahead! Have fun! But first I will carefully tear off a piece of bark.”
“Go and tear it.”
And we went. Cautiously moving along the shore of the lake. I did not take my eyes off the white tree. Really truly beautiful. The branches, long as whips, completely covered with large beautiful leaves. It seemed that a skilled sculptor carved the tree from a piece of snow-white stone. If not for the slightly swaying leaves, I would have believed it. The trunk was straight, covered with a thin and slightly scaly bark — white with silver veins. There was no fruit. No flowers. Just a leafy tree — it is unclear how it got into the ancient forest of the gloomy Dark Edge.
Malice picked up a piece of bark first. He gently took a scaly piece and pulled it off. Then he obediently walked away, exhaling with relief. I repeated the actions of Malice. And became the owner of an equally tiny piece. One more step towards possessing the necessary amount of mana.
Then I let Kirea pass. Even paladins need mana. It was very necessary for them — a paladin, without a protective and strengthening aura that wraps around her, was just an ordinary warrior.
A golden flash — soundless and not too bright — reached us when all those who wished to had already torn off a piece of bark. It seemed that a sunny morning had begun in dark edge, but then ceased, crushed by the bodies of ancient trees. Golden flashes swept between the trunks and were absorbed in the darkness. And that was all. This was the end of the CLOUD. We saw nothing but beautiful illuminations.
"They struck," said Malice quietly — reading, apparently, the battle chat of the Sleepless clan. “A good blow, not a masterpiece, but good ... the CLOUD has knocked down many trees. Now the forest will show its indignation to everyone it can reach...”
"We will not get caught in it," added Whisper. "But still — we can see the fireworks.”
Turning, I saw the expected: my daughter in the company of Orbit sitting on t
he bank and watching the fishing tackles dancing on the water’s surface.
"The fanatics are fishing,” I sighed, carefully hiding the bottle with the precious bark.
“A bird,“ the gnome Cray jerked, standing with our support group and closely watching a small white bird, its feathers emitting a weak golden glow.
“A pigeon of the Templars,“ winced Anh. “Their eyes and ears.”
“So the bird spotted us and sent a picture to the Templars?” I clarified, anxiously looking at the rapidly disappearing pigeon. It was fading like a ghost. A couple of moments, and the dove finally disappeared.”
“Yes. Apparently, they cannot control the pigeons,“ Malice thoughtfully scratched his chin. “Part of the pigeons are left for other attacks by the CLOUD, and another part flies in all directions and sends lots of pictures from the battlefield to the clan citadel. At one time, the Templars were considered omniscient for this. We must leave here. I don’t want a meeting with an enemy raid squad. Who knows what that gold dove is capable of. Perhaps it will give them our coordinates, acting as a beacon, and they can be teleported here… Hurry up.”
“A fish!” Roska's cheerful cry made us look at the lake. The girl arched her whole body back, holding the twitching rod. A large fish with a brownish body and a sparkling silver head and amber huge eyes fought on the line.
"This is a very rare fish," Malice said casually, apparently too tired to be impressed.
"For alchemists?"
“For them, only the eyes and silver scales. But everything is sold to top class cooks.”
“I have a very capable daughter,“ I confessed. “And every day she gets better and better.”
“Wolves, fish, books,“ the magician shook his head. “How could you choose such a combination at all? If you had chosen wolves as your favorite beasts, then your favorite occupation should have been hunting. The combination would be perfect. Hunter-players would be patrons — there are always so many. And such players often choose wolves for themselves.”
“And I chose in my own way,“ I shrugged my shoulders. “Why use templates in such a case? And in general, to be honest, if Roska remains a simple priestess or just a simple happy girl, I will be satisfied. We can do without the divine throne, if that. We would not die of grief.”
"You have to marry her though," sneered Malice.
“Hmm ...”
A muffled crack interrupted us and made us turn around abruptly. Again, the expected - the white tree had lost a pair of long branches, which Roska took. Dozens of torn leaves flew to the ground. A sort of sad snowfall...
Bom stepped up to the tree, holding a long ax in his hand. Everything was taken — that was the end of the tree. Malice and I had bowed our heads in respect, but these guys were thicker-skinned. Probably just such people, armed with axes and chainsaws, cut down centuries-old trees in the real world, without experiencing the slightest reverence for nature.
A loud and prolonged crackle came from a distance. In the distance, in the dimly lit darkness of the Dark Edge, something colossal, very high and powerful moved. The earth shook — hundreds of leaves flew down.
“And that is the epic thrasher,“ Whisper shook his head. “The trees came alive and staged a carnage.”
"The tower?"
"The stump with the tower has survived. He took a new passenger aboard and left to go further north.”
“And the Plague Knight Necrosis?”
“On the stump,“ Whisper looked at Malice, and grimaced. “The Baron howls in rage.”
"Wait ... he is defeated?"
“Yeah. Look what they sent me...”
Whisper made the screenshot visible to everyone and unfolded it wider. On the colorful picture filled with a gray-green mist and fiery flashes, the Baron lay on the ground in his famous tarnished and wrinkled armor, his chest pressed down by the steel-clad hoof of a huge warhorse. And in the saddle sat a gloomy knight who had already managed to drive a heavy spear into the neck of the Red Baron, deciding to pin him to the ground like an insect. Behind the knight sat a little girl. An ordinary girl. Joyfully laughing, looking at the defeated Baron.”
"Many people will pay dearly for this picture," I remarked quietly. "Poor Baron."
“He himself is to blame,“ Malice cut me off. “His damn homebrew vendetta... That is it, we are leaving! We will not wait for any new guests.”
"We're leaving," Bom said, looking at the fallen white tree. “Teleport?"
“No,“ I answered. “Malice, is there a chance we can walk along the Dark Edge and arrange a slaughter of all the monsters we come across, except the wolves? We need to grow a little.”
“Growth is always a good thing. Come on. To the southeast. To the nearest village. And from there we will leave. Look, Ros, but do not start Attenuating. You will soon receive the watch.”
"I will not. I will go out of the game for a couple of hours and rest. I will drink the magic potions. And again arise, like a cucumber with sore eyes and dried up pupils.”
“Well, alright then. Ok! Form two groups! Equal forces. Do not account for Whisper and I. And do not include us in the composition. We will simply follow and get involved if necessary. The goal is to organize a military tour through the forest and get to the nearest village.”
“Got it! Let's do it!”
After a quarter of an hour, we were walking in two small groups among the gigantic trees, heading southeast. This time we were not the passengers of the deadly Malice Express. We fought on our own. Tyrant included. Training ... and more training...
We must grow. And faster. It was suddenly possible to score a couple of levels and pump at least one spell from my arsenal. The others also tried their best. Not Orbit and Roska, though. Both of them were bent over the white log on the back of Kolyvan, knives in their hands, obviously cutting something into the white wood, talking animatedly. What were they doing? Carving some kind of totems?...
Poor Bom. He would have a heart attack. He was preparing the log for sale, but it was unlikely that Orbit would allow anyone to take the white log from the Dark Edge...
Shooting a magical fire charge into another roaring giant, I covered the enemy with a thorn forest and turned my eyes to the black panther that was running swiftly towards us. Do not be distracted. It was necessary to train. After all, I would keep a watch on the main bridge of the flagship tomorrow…
Chapter Eleven.
Decay and the Growing Storm.
It was chilly.
Not cold, but chilly.
Huddled in the corner of the bridge, I stumbling to the end of the bench, wrapped in a thick waterproof raincoat. I constantly trembled and shivered, looking at the virtual world with the terribly displeased look of the hungry owl. A mug of coffee, that was almost a bucket, shook in my hands.
Next to me sat the Black Baroness, wrapped in a cloak, holding the same mug and also looking at the world with the eyes of an owl.
A little farther away sat Malice, covered with two raincoats, holding a mug of coffee and looking at the world with the eyes of an eagle.
We were shaking almost synchronously.
“Wow,” croaked Malice with a piteous amazement. “Why would I do this to myself? I have not slept for three days…”
"It is not good for anyone," I said, shaking my head.
“That's right,“ quietly said the all-powerful BB, drooping her head and nuzzling her nose in the mug of coffee. “That's right ...”
All three of us, slowly but surely, were slipping into Decay. Many colors had already faded, and if the world was not already black and white, then certainly someone had generously mixed gray into each color. But we did not give up, we kept up to the best of our ability, realizing that there was no other option.”
Personally, I tried to sleep on the job. I shut down for a couple of hours of virtual sleep at a time. It was better than nothing.
I think Baroness and Malice thought the same way.
By the way, speaking of owls - the reason w
hy Malice and I were shattered was quite understandable. We had not slept night. Not until morning. I had raised six levels. Not bad after all. The trophies from the Dark Edge were also formidable.
But now we were falling asleep. On the deck, a sort of hippie commune was formed, occupying part of the deck next to the protective weapons. We put an awning there, threw down some blankets, lit a fire inside a huge clay dish, fried some fish, drank wine and juice, chatted about this and that, shared our memories of the past, promised Roska a great future, and then went to bed in a pack. I had recently gotten up from my bird's nest and looked at all of them. Roska was sleeping, her head buried in the woolen side of Tyrant, her heels in Orbits' embrace along with the mammoth trunk. The sleeping bulk of Kolyvan was dangerously swaying above them in a hammock. If the mammoth collapsed...
It was understandable why we were all so tired and why we were visited by Decay — although it was, in fact, insulting.
And the Baroness – right now, it seemed like the head of Sleepless had been up all night rowing on the galleys or chopping stone in the quarries. From sunset to sunrise. It was even worse for her.
“Did not they give you a chance to get a good night's sleep?” I could not help asking. “Or were you stress-relieving all night long?”
“Are you kidding me?” The Baroness retorted in response, trying to scorch me with the angry gaze of her brown eyes — but she could not ignite the fire in them, and surrendered: “Funny... oh, there in the distance — the clouds turned purple, or am I seeing things?”
"For me, they're blue," I grumbled, looking in the direction indicated.
“Black,“ Malice shook his head.
“So it seems,“ the BB breathed with relief. “Are they still attacking us?”
"They are," I nodded and squinted at the flailing eagle that flashed overhead with its flaming tail. “They are attacking with might and main.”
“Reptiles,“ winced Malice. “Oh ... ripples before my eyes. The rainbow ... with a drop of cockroach color ... beautiful...”
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