Laughing, Behemoth changed shape instantly. Before me now was a ten-foot-tall broad-shouldered man in black plate-mail armor. He looked human in every way, but... I raised my eyes. He had the head of a hippo.
“Is this better, apostle?” He laughed again, grinning his big hefty mouth.
“Much better, Sleeping one. And brush those teeth. Your... mouth smells really bad.”
Chapter 30. Final
MANNY THE PRIEST had converted one hundred fifty-two noncitizens to followers of the Sleeping Gods and that gave all of us the same number of attribute points, plus another four from my clan. The first converts Manuel Almeida made were the people who’d come to work for us.
The second priest slot was taken by Tissa, who stopped following Nergal. At that stage in the development of our faith, there was only one advantage to being a priest: Unity gave them just as many bonuses as the apostle, in other words me.
For the record, it was decided by rock paper scissors. And IRL, in school, the day after we put up the temple.
Malik was envious of Tissa’s luck, which clearly extended beyond Dis, but that was the extent of it. The bonuses were about the same.
We spent the next few days leveling to twenty-five, not afraid to stick out in the second round of qualifying matches. Average level in this year’s Arena was a bit higher than before, so we had nothing to worry about. We also got new attacks and improved the ones we had. Beyond that, we got another three epics, bought up trinkets for the guys to dispel crowd control and started to feel much more confident.
Victory in the third qualifier came easily to us. Asta Rasta’s team had defeated Emerald Dream in the first round, so they figured they could take us out with one left hook. Yeah right. With my new class skills and the bonuses from Unity, I felt like a kindergarten bully. Lethargy, after brief consideration, we decided I could use. We weren’t the only ones with rare talents. So at the very beginning of battle, I put the leader of Asta-Rasta to sleep, then helped the guys hack away at their top damager. Two down. Tissa was sitting back at heal but helping with damage when Crawler was on cooldown. We won without even losing a player.
The same thing almost happened to Corps of Darkness. They underestimated their rival and just about lost to an underdog, the Kalia Wolves. By the time Sudden Death triggered, each side had only one fighter, but the sorcerer had that Nether Demon. And it decided the outcome for the favorites.
Before the last battle in our group, every team still had a chance. Corps of Darkness was in the lead with three victories. The Kalia Wolves had two. Behind them were Emerald Dream, Asta Rasta and us, each with one point.
Axiom had also won their first match in their group, but they stood no chance. The two leaders there had three points each and they were up against each other in the last round.
We needed to beat the Wolves to get into the next round, but then it would still depend on the battle between Corps of Darkness, who was getting through regardless, and Emerald Dream. If they won, we would be going home no matter what.
The battle with the Kalia Wolves was heated. Lethargy hadn’t rolled back yet, so we were having a hard time. Our enemies, though they were lower in level than us, proved themselves practiced tacticians and a strong team. They tried to zerg Tissa, but were sent running by a Ghastly Howl. Licking their wounds, they were careful from then on and drew it out to Sudden Death. And then we realized that, without a healer in the Arena, you might as well give up even with five badass damagers.
Emerald Dream lost their battle, putting us on equal footing with the Wolves, but we got to proceed because we had defeated them in our matchup. The Awoken, along with five hundred and eleven other teams, had entered the playoffs!
Right after that, the Arbitrator sent me a personal notification saying I had won the bet with Big Po. A moment later, my mailbox flickered with a message containing the Whistle of Summoning and legendary Arena Master’s Horn.
In the evening, we celebrated the victory, both at the Arena and over Axiom in the Bubbling Flagon. Polynucleotide pretended not to notice me, and disappeared from the tavern, but I still caught a glimpse of his sour air.
Out of sheer joy, we decided to take a risk and bet one thousand gold through Overweight that we would take first place in the whole Arena. Rita added another hundred of her own money, too. We had enough sense not to bet more, but we couldn’t resist the chance, even if it was paper thin, to add half a million gold to our clan coffers. The bookies had given our team the absolute lowest odds of taking first: 500 to 1. For comparison T-Modus was given 3 to 1.
We made it through the first elimination round easily, even though we were up against the best team from group NA-48, the Singing Gorillas. With every battle, we were getting a better sense for one another and, even without signal amulets, our teamwork was now formidable.
The enemies got harder with every round but, by the same token, working together was getting easier. Though our defeat of the Singing Gorillas didn’t improve our odds by much, by the quarter final, we were sitting at 25 to 1.
Our workmen friends Manny, Trixie and Gyula believed in us so fervently that they were going to bet, but they weren’t allowed. Well not exactly, more like they were persuaded against it. I asked how much they wanted to bet. As it turned out, one gold each. We agreed that if we won, they would get twenty-five gold. This way, they didn’t stand to lose anything if we lost.
After the Gorillas, we won seven battles in a row. The hardest of all was the semifinal. School was already back in full swing and, on day one of the new quarter, Greg notified me that any slip-ups or bad test results would result in a prolonged ban from Disgardium. My parents took it a step further: mom gave me a lecture about the importance of graduating, and father gave it his stamp of approval, saying he would come at nine PM and slam on emergency exit, then unplug my pod and activate Parental Control.
But even that faded in comparison with the realization that we had made it all the way to the final. Our popularity had reached global level and the only thing keeping journalists from tearing us to shreds was a law that shielded underage citizens from invasions of privacy. But in Dis we were stars. Even Tashot the famous tightwad said we could drink at his tavern for free for life.
* * *
On the Sunday of the final, the Awoken versus T-Modus, we were standing in the middle of a boiling-hot Arena in the beams of magic spotlights and smiling. I didn’t know about the others, but I was having a very hard time. Dragons of Infinity were playing behind us. The most popular rock group in both worlds, Snowstorm had hired them to warm up the crowd before our final battle.
Just one win stood between us and the title of 2075 Junior Arena Champions. Somewhere up in the stands were our supporters: the residents of Tristad and Patrick O’Grady, who sent a letter to tell me he was coming. That included the whole city council, headed by Peter Whiteacre, except for Big Po. Also with them were Chef Arno, Tashot, Master Bu aka Sagda, City Jail Warden Edwin Cooper, Carlson the scribe, Hunter Conrad, the chief councilman’s secret lover Mrs. Grossman from Piping Hot, Alfred Stafford, and Mills and Gale the guardsmen. Every time we won, our reputation with Tristad and its key NPC’s went up, so by then it had hit respect.
I felt Tissa grab me by the hand and squeeze hard. I turned my head and saw that she was on the verge of tears.
“This... this is amazing!” she whispered. “Alex, this is all because of you! A month ago, me and the guys didn’t know what we were gonna do. Our level was way down, all our gear had been stolen. Any hope for things to get better had been beaten out of us. But now... we’re standing here with the whole world watching.”
We hugged, then we were joined by Ed, Malik and Hung. And we just stood that way, pressed up against one another. The music went quiet. The audience applauded the Dragons, went quiet and the arena was filled by the sprightly and excited voice of Dariusz Kowalski:
“Will you look at that! This is the most touching scene I’ve ever witnessed! The Awoken must be in dis
belief at how far they’ve come!”
“You know Dariusz, I don’t think we can quite believe our eyes either!” came the deep voice of Ramon Macià, a star of sports journalism. “This is a Cinderella story, only...”
“We’ve got five of them,” Dariusz made a stupid joke. “So then! Honorable Commonwealth residents! Ladies and Gentlemen! Citizens and noncitizens! Let us turn your attention to the main event of the evening! The Junior Arena Finals!”
“Meeting in battle tonight, we have,” came Vas, “unquestioned favorites, the junior team of Modus, the adult Arena champions – T-Modus from Broken Hills. And the dark horse of the tournament, unknown just a few short weeks ago, we have the Awoken from Tristad!”
“Wake up, Awoken!” Dariusz joked again. “Teams, go shake hands!”
We exchanged handshakes. Our opponents were completely stone-faced. They really must have been sure of themselves. There was Philex the rogue, Kart the warrior, Olaf the sorcerer, Kanu the druid and Yen the archer. They were all level twenty-six. This team of all boys and one girl, the last, were known by every teenager on earth. T-Modus were perennial favorites in the junior Arena and, long before the beginning of the tournament, everyone was clamoring to find out who made the team. Meanwhile, we had also hit twenty-six, so we were on even footing there. But they had something we didn’t.
Standing behind the captain of T-Modus was a bona fide dragon, Philex’s battle pet. Level twenty-five, it could breathe fire and had a massive body that could easily crush any of us. And next to it were the rest of the team’s pets: a bear, a tiger, a boar and a crocodile. They were a few levels lower, but not much. And that was why the odds were still against us.
“Good luck” Philex wished drily.
“You too,” I replied.
We took positions on our half of the field, standing in specially marked circles on the ground and froze, waiting for the signal to start the fight. Infect, worrying once again checked his outfit. Crawler was looking straight ahead, but his clenched fists revealed his anxiety. Tissa was biting her lower lip. Bomber raised his visor and stroked his forehead.
“Generating battle zone...” a female voice announced. “Location created.”
In the space of a second, the Arena transformed. A hill grew behind us, trees quickly sprouted and shot up. On T-Modus’s half, a small fortress was erected, and river cut diagonally through the middle of the zone.
“Number six,” Crawler said.
“Agreed,” Tissa answered, looking around.
The others had no objections. Number six meant we would feign a retreat and take out lone targets opportunistically. If none came, we moved on to number seven. That meant moving out for a head-to-head skirmish, giving a Ghastly Howl to put their trinkets on cooldown, then using Lethargy on the heal or top damager.
Huge numbers appeared right in the air and started counting down.
“Three!” the stands erupted along with the commentators. “Two! One! Fight!”
We ran back to the little hill and glade. There was only one approach, so there would be no getting around us. We went into the glade and hid. Infect peeked out and reported:
“Their archer has taken position in the fortress. He can’t hit us. The boar is running in our direction. The bear is behind, and the dragon behind him. The crocodile is bringing up the rear. The tiger is with the hunt. The rogue is coming in from the right in invis. The others are on the left, with the dru in tree form close behind. They stopped. They aren’t coming any closer. Boar incoming!”
A second later, we summoned our pets, evening the playing field. The audience gasped, and Dariusz was overcome with hysterical glee.
Branches crunched under the hooves of the boar and the powerful animal’s body burst out of the bushes. We heard a whistle. Casting a gaze at us, the boar gave an oink and turned around to go back to its master. But he didn’t make it.
I slowed him down, Bomber hit him with Ruination and that was all it took. Boar down. We tethered our needlers to Infect and he went to tackle Philex. At level thirty, Whatchamacallit had unlocked a talent that allowed him to see invisible characters.
Then we left the glade, bringing our nearest enemy, the bear into range. We took it down from afar. Did I mention we brought our combat skills up bigtime? At any rate, I never wrote how much. My Enhanced Quickshot was not only upgraded, it also hit seventy-five, putting it just under Hammer in terms of damage!
“I’ll help Infect,” Tissa said, seeing the druid running toward where our thief and their rogue were fighting.
Infect’s frame showed that he was fighting but in better shape than Philex. It was hard to stand up against a simultaneous attack from five needlers, firing from all cannons!
We retreated back into the glade after Infect, Iggy, Alien, Thorn, Whatchamacallit and Little Trunk took out Philex. Rogue down, and the dragon went with him.
After regrouping, we went on the attack. Iggy blasted out a Deadly Chirp, rendering our enemies briefly motionless, then all our pets focused on the warrior, our heaviest remaining opponent.
I walked toward the druid and, while he tried frantically to heal the warrior, put him into a lethargic sleep. For Kanu, the battle was over. Druid down.
Now victory was assured, it was just a question of how. I sent the remaining enemies running in Fear with a Ghastly Howl, successfully dispelled a Paralyzing Shot from the archer with Liberation, which we’d all worked together to level, and helped the rest finish off Kart. Warrior down.
Olaf floundered a bit longer, but not too long. Yen the archer just surrendered.
Achievement unlocked Morituri te salutant! – 1
You have been crowned champion of the junior Arena tournament!
Reward:
— rank of Junior Gladiator;
+5% damage in battles against players;
+5% resilience skill in battles against players;
+10 to all main attributes.
“The Awoken have emerged victorious!” Dariusz whooped deafeningly. “A flawless victory!”
* * *
The whole next day in school was like an amazing dream. We were even congratulated by Principal Fultz. He came to see us in the middle of class and gave a heartfelt speech. We were congratulated by teachers, classmates, and fellow students alike. Everyone was proud to say they went to the same school as the champions of the junior Arena. In an interview with some journalists, the principal noted that the Awoken had been together since first grade and undoubtedly owed their success to their teachers and humble servant Mr. Fultz.
Most jealous of all was Aron Kwon. He used to be a friend of mine, but we hadn’t talked ever since his parents gave him a robot lover that looked like Denise Le Bon. And you know why? Because we were given our award by Denise Le Bon herself! Well not in person, just her Dis character, but it was still her! We were all terribly embarrassed, even Tissa faltered, unable to say a word. The only one not embarrassed was Big Bomber. He hugged the world-famous star and kissed her on the cheek. And thus he became the only one of us who had ever felt the loveliness that was Denise Le Bon, even if it was the virtual version. Well, her lovelies, to be more specific and so you don’t get the wrong idea.
Right after the awards’ ceremony we gave a bunch of flash interviews and, happy, made our way to the teleportation zone to be brought back to Tristad. But we were intercepted. A group of impressively equipped players stood in our path and the delighted whispers of my friends told me who they were.
First to speak was a muscular orc by the name of Horvac, leader of one of the top clans, the Weirdos. After exchanging pleasantries, he got to business:
“We would like you to join our clan. With no trial period. We can provide speed levelling, crafted equipment, the best gear from clan storage. Add me as a friend...”
“Me too,” shot out a tall forest elf named Yagami. “I have the exact same offer but a couple times better. We can promise a yearly salary of one hundred thousand pho...”
“Two hun
dred thousand,” came a minotaur named Ye Xiu, leader of the top Asian clan, interrupting the Japanese elf. “And don’t believe Yagami. He talks sweet, but...”
“Tell those losers to get lost,” came Yary, pushing the rest aside.
That was Yaroslav, one of the three leaders of Modus, champions of the adult Arena and the top preventer clan.
“Can I get an autograph?” Tissa asked, devouring him with her eyes.
After that, such exotic clans as the White Amazons started trying to poach us. Their leader –Ochre Witch – stuck fast to Tissa and got her to agree to an IRL meeting. “Sweetie, we can sit in a nice little coffeeshop, have a coffee...” she said to the priestess of the Sleeping Gods. “We’ll have such a wonderful time!”
Once back in Tristad, we experienced all the finer points of being beloved. We had reached maximum reputation. The city was in a fervor. Everyone was on the streets. They were happy, celebrating, joyful, throwing their hats into the air. They lifted us up and carried us. And with all that going on, somehow we missed the news that someone had attempted to kidnap Tobias “Crag” Asser right from his school.
Apostle of the Sleeping Gods Page 45
