“Soak the altar with his blood!” The elemental was the first to react. “Olzar is not worthy of being one of us!”
“I second that!” The gnome was in agreement. “Only death!”
Each of the high-born said his word, convicting Olzar to death. The new mage thrashed on the altar, his eyes bulging, and only a tight gag protecting us from him screaming wildly. One of the assistants presented the ceremonial blade to the headhunter, and silence fell in the cave. Even Olzar was still, staring crazily as his death loomed close.
“May this sacrifice benefit the mages!” Devir said with pathos, and the silence succumbed to monotonous humming: the high-born mages started singing. Swaying like pendulums they hummed a melody they alone knew. The altar started vibrating to its rhythm, like a hungry living being waiting to be fed soon. All this looked so enthralling that I missed the moment when the ceremonial blade cut Olzar’s throat, and the blood, pulsing, started leaving the immobilized mage‒ the victim didn’t even twitch, as if he were in a trance. Contrary to what I expected, the blood was not absorbed by the stone; that would have made the ceremony even more horrifying. It simply drained to the bottom of the altar, to disappear into the drain holes. However, there was something strange: not a single drop of the blood of the mage, who became desiccated like a mummy, stayed on the altar. It was pristinely clean. Devir brushed the remains to the floor with a grimace of disgust, and indicated for the assistants that Dangard was next. The new victim was placed on the altar.
“Dangard was my personal student. For thirty two years I trained him in everything that I knew myself, but that was not enough. He was unable to complete a minor assignment. As a result, Yaropolk achieved level 11 in the Academy. It is important to point out that due to Dangard’s selfless actions the main target returned from the Academy at the first level, making it possible to hold the ceremony today. As a headhunter Dangard does not deserve to be my student, however, I believe he is a worthy member of the class and I plead with the Minor Circle to decide his fate. He has been brought down to level one.”
“Let him prove himself worthy as a mage!” The earth monster was again first to reply.. “I consider that we can grant Dangard a second chance!”
Another six votes granted Dangard life, and Devir cut the ropes tying the victim with a fast flick of the ceremonial knife. Actually not a victim any more, but a level one player: mage Dangard. Putting the dumbfounded mage on his feet, Devir said:
“You have been granted life; prove that the Minor Circle was right in this decision. Find yourself and become great. As a teacher of headhunters, I reject you. Leave: you don’t belong in this session!”
The ceremony attendants appeared like jacks-in-the-box, surrounded Dangard and literally pushed him out of the cave. Devir pointed at the sacrifices silently, and in just a few instants both Logir and Sartal were placed on the altar. The femorc was ripped out of the ice so carelessly that part of her leg and back was left there‒ her spine was showing How the red-skinned girl was able to stay alive and somewhat conscious with such wounds was beyond me. One could not continue with this level of damage, even as a player.
“Two first level Paladins,” Devir continued. “My gift to the class. By killing them we will receive two new player slots. Besides, the father of the reptilian is an old enemy of the mages, so we will deal him a crushing blow. I want to pour the blood of my enemies on the altar and ask the Minor Circle to agree to this sacrifice."
Monotonous humming came again instead of the answer: the high-borns resumed their singing. The Paladins’ fate was determined as soon as the altar started vibrating: two quick sliding blows of the ceremonial knife committed Logir and Sartal to history. The Paladins, like Olzar before them, turned into desiccated mummies immediately brushed to the floor and, finally, Monstrichello was heaved up onto the altar. Unlike Logir and Sartal, Monster was fully conscious. At least he blinked in bewilderment, and kept trying to rip the ropes. But they held fast.
“A first level Paladin‒a human‒ whose very existence was predicted by our guest.” Devir turned to the necromancer and bowed to him. “A fully immune creature is born once in a millennium, and we have a unique chance to exalt the class of the mages above everyone else. We will become first, and the Viceroy will help us in that.”
“Future Viceroy,” the necromancer corrected Devir. “Enough speeches. We have waited too long. Begin!”
My eyes nearly bulged out once I saw what appeared in Levard’s hands: it was the all too familiar book, the Madonna’s Diary. Putting it on the support in front of him, the necromancer started pressing on its cover, making me rejoice once again that I had the Book of Knowledge working for me: after the cynocephalian’s manipulation, the cover of Madonna’s Diary changed its color to bright red. Nothing else happened to the book, so I dared to attempt an incredibly silly thing: I took out my own set of notes and repeated Levard’s actions, precisely repeating his movements. I was so grateful to my Book of Knowledge! Not only did it help me to light the cover with that red glow, it also helped me conceal my actions: I put Madonna’s diary right into the book of Knowledge, so it seemed that I was just studying my artifact, nothing more.
The high mages made the altar vibrate for the third time, and with the quick swipe of the knife Monstrichello’s game was over. But unlike in the previous killings, the big boy’s blood did not pour to the floor: the stone absorbed all of it to the last drop.
Levard’s palm fell on the cover of the diary, and I repeated his motion precisely, hoping that no one would think my actions strange. A second passed, then another, then a third… I was starting to think that nothing was supposed to happen anyway, when the reddish glow of my book’s cover changed to green.
“Why are you not activating?!” the necromancer’s angry shout broke the heavy silence in the cave. His book never changed color, still lighting the space around it with a bloody glow. The mages were silent; they obviously hadn’t expect the blood to be absorbed by the altar, and now stared in awe at the stone, whose color had changed from stark white to blood red.
“Blasted hell! Too late!” The space around me suddenly exploded loudly, throwing ice in all directions, and Archibald appeared in the center of the cage. Looked around, cursed, and literally spat out: “Magic freaks! You’ll answer for the Paladins! Levard: the Viceroy will definitely find out who was mixed up with the death of the immune one! You won’t be able to hide behind the mages!”
“Stop him!" the necromancer screamed, but the catorian had started acting already. He threw something like a flash bang grenade through the bars. With a sharp move he pulled me out of the ice prison, activated the portal, and the world around me instantly turned into a hundred rainbows.
We had escaped from the mages, but that did not cause me much fear or concern. After all I was not afraid of death: I would respawn… somewhere. A different thing scared me: by repeating Levard’s actions I had earned a headache that would make all the squabbles between mages and Paladins look like a child’s play. Because even through the iridescence of the portal there was a funny notification hanging in front of me and not going anywhere:
Sacrifice is accepted; Madonna’s Diary is activated.
Preparation of Game restart has been initiated.
End of Book One
Dear Reader,
Thank you very much for reading The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1). Your opinion is very important to me. For me, this has been a totally new world, with its own rules and characters, and I'd love to make it just as exciting as the worlds of Galactogon and The Way of the Shaman. Please consider sharing your opinions and suggestions with me and other readers!
With Gratitude,
Vasily Mahanenko
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The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 49
