The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Attack!” Calling up Rragr one more time, I pointed at the worms, who had practically stopped. “Devour them!”

  “Rra-rgra,” the pet responded voraciously, and rushed forward. I grimaced: instead of tearing at the snakes themselves the Neanderthal started devouring pieces of their flesh that had been torn out by Zangar’s blade. Having filled his belly in just a few minutes, the pet strode back to me and plopped down with a satisfied face, starting to pick his teeth. The controllability of the hairy one left a lot to be desired – one could say there was none at all.

  You have achieved maximum level in the Academy (15)

  You will receive all subsequent accumulated experience following completion of the Academy or at respawn

  The worms finally ran out of steam, one could say, in too ordinary a manner. Their lifeless corpses crashed to the ground one after another, showering our whole group with experience. I looked at the information frames with satisfaction: while killing worms was enough to bring me to 15th level, most of our group was propelled to level five, saving them and granting them the possibility for several additional respawns.

  “Rga-ra?” The pet looked at me with questioning eyes, obviously wanting something. I nodded and the Neanderthal immediately rushed towards the downed worms and dove into the nearest one headlong. Zangar, who noticed that, dispelled the fog, pointed at the place where the pet had disappeared, and eloquently moved his head, asking what the hell was going on here. So I had to shrug my shoulders and meaningfully spread my hands to indicate: oh well, my pet is still small, doesn’t get it all and sometimes does stupid shit.

  “Marinar, take the worms apart!” The necromancer asked the mage, having decided that the pet would not do much harm. “Should be ingredients in them. Alchemy important for us. Need elixir. Careful with heart. Should not oxidize. Normally very valuable. Here probably too. Very valuable product … YARI!!! CALL HIM BACK!!!”

  Rragr, happy and covered in blood, climbed out from the first corpse, holding in his hand a still steaming and half gnawed piece of meat. Well, actually, of the heart rather than just meat, as the system helpfully indicated with respect to the object, quickly disappearing into the Neanderthal’s belly. Rragr’s little muzzle shone with contentment, joy, and – what bothered me most of all – determination; his whole appearance expressed such decisiveness not to stop with what he had, but to continue on to devour the ticker of the other downed reptile, that I hurried to follow the necromancer’s suggestion, and retrieved the pet into his extratemporal pocket. It would be better for him to sit there for a while, to stay out of trouble.

  As soon as Rragr disappeared, the body of the “heartless” worm glimmered and disappeared, leaving behind several vials filled with black liquid. Marinar didn’t even need to demonstrate her coroner's skills‒ the Game had done it all for her. However, from Zangar’s heavy stare, flattened ears and heavy breathing, I understood that what the Game had left us was far from optimal. Perhaps it was just a pittance that was not worth bending down to pick it up.

  “I have taken my share of the loot‒ the rest is yours.” Despite the looks of the group, I was not going to attempt to make any excuses for my pet’s actions and promise that he’d do better in the future. Looking indifferent, I strolled a dozen meters to the side, in order to look at the grass, highlighted in green: my artifact should develop constantly.

  It took Marinar till the end of the day to deal with the other worm, so we had to set up camp right there in the valley. It was reasonable to suppose that such worms were unique and extremely rare, while their respawn time, if they respawned at all, should be at least twenty-four hours. So we set the order for night watch and fell asleep. Unlike the Labyrinth, the wastelands did not create additional problems for us; at least there was no desire to excrete. By the way, it would be useful to somehow delicately find out more about this‒ don’t players ever need to use the toilet? Or would we have to go through an additional rehabilitation course after returning to the main world, to help the body regain its memory of physical needs? During the time spent in training ranges a body could forget everything.

  “Yari, it’s your turn,” it seemed to me that Dirion shook me awake just a minute after I had closed my eyes and decided to sleep a little. The lanky Paladin was yawning mightily and rubbing his eyes; the fatigue of the day took its toll. Once he made sure that I had woken up, Dirion fell on the ground where he stood and literally a moment later his loud snores joined the quiet breathing of the group.

  “Zangar agreed to substitute for you.” I was just about to get up when Dolgunata settled down next to me. “I promised to teach you to resist mental attacks; it’s inefficient to allocate time for that while we are on the move. Why not do that now? I warn you from the start: I am going to attempt to gain control over you; I need you to state aloud that you allow me to do that; that’s one of the conditions in the Contract. A couple of hours should be enough for us. Shall we start?”

  Not expecting such a turn of events, for some time I tried to discover a catch in the proposition and Nata’s words. As if it weren’t enough that the girl had decided to teach me here and now, but she also convinced Zangar to stand my watch for me. The Necromancer would never do anything for nothing. So something must have been promised to him for that. But what was it?

  “You need learn,” the cynocephalian emerged from the dusk. “Need learn control face. Distrust on your face. Too eloquent. Too easy to read. Train, is better. Game doesn’t like openness.”

  “Nobody likes openness,” I grumbled at Zangar’s retreating back, while he disappeared as quickly as he had shown up; then I asked the Game not to kill the druid during the training and requested clarification: “So, what is it that I need to do?”

  “Open your mind to me,” the girl whispered sweetly and the world exploded in a hundred shards, leaving the goddess of beauty named Dolgunata at the center of all there was. The druid used the Chancellor’s gift.

  “Be still and harken!” the goddess uttered in a thunderous voice, as soon as I fell on the ground and started crawling towards her. Kept still, trying to fulfill any whim of my ideal. “You are under my control. I rule your emotions and wishes, making you do what I need, not you. You must fight that. Find a balance point within yourself. Find something within you that will always be with you, regardless of how the world around you changes. Find something that will enable you to rely on it and build your defense around you.”

  “I don’t understand what you want.” I dropped my head on the ground, exhaling raggedly, as soon as Dolgunata released control. My body was shaking from feeling how helpless I was. “What balance point? And why are you still alive? My understanding was that you were not allowed to use the Chancellor’s gift any more.”

  “It’s not allowed to use it for personal gain, but there are no restrictions on other uses. Actually, I was interested, and I was ready to sacrifice a level. Training is not considered personal gain. It doesn’t matter. As for the balance point… I’ll skip the full theory lecture – you can find that out from any openly available source. I’ll just tell you the basics.

  “Any control comprises two aspects – a psychological and a magical one. The magical is extremely simple: you obtain a special device and use it to suppress the will of your opponent, forcing him to do whatever you need. However, this type of control has constraints that counteract its simplicity: it’s impossible to force your adversary to harm himself. As a result, the most popular method of blocking this type of control – well, after amulets‒ is to force yourself to think that you are feeling extremely poorly right now, that with every moment spent under control your body, for example, cannot breathe, cannot live, cannot exist.

  “There are special hypnosis masters in the Game who can make these thoughts permanent at the level of the subconscious, so it would disrupt any such control. It’s possible to counteract these embedded thoughts as well, but this is outside of the scope of our study tonight. It’s important for you to under
stand that beside the most popular method there are some less popular but more effective ways to resist: you need to find something within yourself that would not let your mind switch off. For example: the artifact is always with you. As soon as I invade your mind your task will be to reject the image that is imposed on you and concentrate on the artifact. Visualize its dimensions, shape, color; think about the rules for its development – in your case, to leaf through the pages in your mind. In other words, do everything so that it will be at the center of your attention rather than the controller. If you can switch in this manner, you will return back to reality. If you can’t… well, then this method, unfortunately, is not for you. Then the magic control will have to be blocked through hypnosis or use of an amulet. Shall we try once more?”

  I nodded in agreement, and my world transformed itself once again. There were some thoughts in my head, reminding that I was supposed to think about something, but I rejected them as irrelevant. What thoughts could there be when the goddess appeared before me?

  “No, that’s not going to work,” Dolgunata said sadly, pulling her leg away from my embrace. “Of course, I am flattered by your love for the dirt on my shoes, but that’s not what we gathered here for. Did you think about the artifact?”

  I stared angrily at the druid, spat the sand out of my mouth and glumly shook my head, indicating that at that moment I couldn’t think about anything at all. The most unpleasant part was that I remembered very well everything I had done and thought while under her control; but I was completely unable to control myself. It was a horrific sensation.

  “You must,” Dolgunata stated dictatorially, adding without skipping a beat: “Let’s continue! Either you will learn or you won’t. There are no other options!”

  After every attempt Dolgunata took a break, allowing me to spit out the sand, catch my breath and sit in a steady position; then she activated the Chancellor’s gift. Twenty useless attempts to think of the artifact and loosen her control led to the druid’s shoes shining like a mirror! At least everyone was asleep, so they couldn’t see my disgrace.

  “Let’s continue!" the druid announced once again, and the world yet again fell apart, leaving just the goddess before me. I jerked forward, wanting to lick her feet, and then froze in place. What appeared before my eyes was the smirking image of Archibald, whose entire appearance indicated that such a stupid useless giftless creature unable to overcome elementary control was not worthy of the right to… revenge! He had killed my mother. Sister. Friends. Everyone who had known me! Archibald had wiped me out from the world of NPCs, flooding the free space with the blood of the people whom I held dear! A scowl of hatred appeared on my face, and suddenly I felt as though I had been doused with a bucket of cold water: I realized my current situation. I was being controlled! The goddess was not a goddess, she was…

  “Excellent!” Dolgunata rejoiced, as soon as the world regained its wholesome nature. “You have found the core that can help you hold on. Remember that feeling, and the way you arrived there. Let’s do it again!”

  Shards – goddess – Archibald‒release of control. Shards – goddess – Archibald‒release of control. Shards – Archibald‒ release of control. Shards – release of control. Release of control.

  “Hm…” Dolgunata frowned when after the words “Let’s do it again” the world stayed whole, and only the Book of Knowledge appeared before my eyes, displaying the picture of the catorian. My artifact took an active stance in counteracting control, and did everything to help me resist it. “You are upgrading your skill way too fast. Amazing… I’d need to look into this in more detail. We are done with the magic control; the charge of the lergant doesn’t allow to use it at over ten percent of capacity, but you have the main idea, that’s the most important. Now let’s talk about psychological control… It’s what they call Neuro Linguistic Programming in your world. Amulets, hypnosis or curses will not help you if you encounter a true master of this method. Only your own willpower and adequate perception of reality. The ‘Suppressor’ specialty, despite its magical nature, makes it possible to enhance the effect of this method. I repeat: there is no protection as such, you just have to use your head and be aware of your actions, conscious or subconscious. So, for example, this is how one could use this method…”

  Quite unexpectedly I flicked myself on the nose. Then again. And again. Having stopped this self-punishment with difficulty, I shifted my stunned gaze from my hand, which stopped obeying me for a few minutes, to the pleased Dolgunata.

  “Review the video of the past two minutes,” the girl suggested with a smile, and the Book of Knowledge immediately appeared before me. My eyes nearly fell out once I understood all the subversiveness of this method! We were sitting facing each other, and then Dolgunata suddenly leaned a little forward. I repeated that movement. She leaned to the side. I copied that too. She brought her hand up to her cheek. I did the same. She scratched. So did I. Dolgunata lightly flicked herself on the nose, and I copied that as thoroughly, trying to repeat everything my “mirror” did.

  “This is the whole essence of NLP. You need to capture their attention, fix it and then you can do whatever you want to your victim. From whacks on the nose right up to suicide. You were very lucky that I am not yet very good at that technique. Or else our conversation at the respawn stone would have been quite different. Anyway, this completes our training. You have learnt to release yourself from magical control, and I told you and showed everything I know about the psychological one. Naturally, all the hunters and controllers use mixed techniques, it provides a far more effective result. But we are not going to go into that now; that would be a combination of the various techniques used within the methods I have already covered. Each controller would choose the sequence he finds preferable. Please acknowledge that this clause of our contract is completed.”

  “Not yet,” I said slowly, and the buttons that had appeared before me disappeared again. Dolgunata had managed to seriously puzzle me with the second type of control; before leaving this topic be I needed to think it over thoroughly, sleep over the new knowledge and sort it out for myself properly. What if I had missed something important, and now the druid was influencing me using yet another technique, coercing me towards a result beneficial only to her? Wanting to shift the conversation in the direction I needed, I asked:

  “Could you rather tell me about the worlds that you visited during your training? Their special features, differences, what’s special about them…? Since we are not sleeping anyway it would be a useful way to pass of time.”

  “Useful for you,” the druid snorted, yet settled into a more comfortable position and started talking: “The first world that I remember has a funny name: it’s called ‘Earth’. Yes, no need to be so surprised, I spent my childhood in the same third-rate world as you…”

  Time passed quickly. Dolgunata’s story enabled me to level up the “Neuronal Network” by another unit, making the green highlight surrounding objects, elements of terrain and generally everything that caught my eye become brighter and acquire more depth than before. Stones and sand, striving to become added to the Book of Knowledge, appeared in addition to the grass. Having collected information about the new objects, I grimaced, once again not finding even a hint of a hidden cache; then an interesting thought made me drop everything and hurry towards the waking group. It was the second day supposed to be filled with incredible luck, but so far we had not experienced not only her kisses, but not even a hint of a shy smile. Clothes and two overgrown snakes didn’t really count.

  “Zangar, I need you and your blade.” I was panting from hurrying back so fast. “Let’s go!”

  To give the necromancer his due, he stood up and followed me without asking any questions. The plan that I had thought up was so painfully artificial that any adequate question would have destroyed it from the start.

  “Now listen.” We were at a safe distance now, and I turned towards the necromancer. “What I need is for you to ask the questi
on aloud ‘Where is the nearest teacher for the wastelands?’, spin your spear around, throw it up and step to the side so that it will fall on the ground. We’ll use the spear as a compass and check to what extent luck is with us. We’ll launch it ten times for a proper experiment, average the direction and set out.”

  “That’s an interesting way of checking,” Zangar commented, looking at his spear intently. “That’s checking not luck, but chance. They are different.”

  “But would you agree there’s a rational thought in this suggestion?” I was not going to give up. “After all‒ what, is it too hard for you to do what I am asking? If I had something that could be used as a pointer, I wouldn’t be asking you.”

  Zangar fell silent, thought for a while, then grinned, and with the words “Where is the closest teacher?” spun his artifact like a propeller and launched it up vertically. The spear hung in the air for a moment, then came down to the ground.

  “Record the direction,” the necromancer ordered, unperturbed, lifting his spear and launching it into the air again.

  After another couple of throws the entire group joined us, even though we had walked away from them so as to avoid accidental hits with the flying spear. While at first they were making jokes and laughing, with each throw the mirth subsided. Zangar decided to extend the experiment, and threw the spear thirty times rather than ten. At the moment when the spear landed for the last time, silence hung over the group, so thick that one could hear the sand squeaking as Monstrichello shifted his feet. All of the thirty attempts to determine where the teacher was located, as Zangar launched his spear with different strength and speed, kept indicating the same sector, within a variation of about ten degrees‒ the sector that was located in the direction opposite from the center of the wastelands. According the theory of probability, at least half of the throws should have pointed in any other direction, but obviously this logic did not apply in the Academy. The method I had invented clearly indicated the search area.