That turned out tough — they were in Dis. Infect was busy with his archaeological digs on Mengoza, Crawler was still playing with the castle settings, Bomb was protecting the clan’s new fishermen on the shore and talking to Orthokon at the same time. We had to wake up a sleeping worker and ask him to log into Dis and pass on a message — all my communication functions were turned off in the ordeal cell.
While I waited, I used the time to try out another of Maria’s culinary creations. At first glance, they were like small rolls cooked in fat, with an amber-brown crust. I turned the unfamiliar treat in my hands, figuring out how best to start eating it. Maria held back a smile as she watched me. Finally I stopped and bit into the luxurious dough. I reached a meaty filling inside and juice dripped onto my hands. I groaned in pleasure. Breathtaking…
“Delicious!” I said, stuffing more into my mouth. “What are they?”
“Belyashi,” Maria answered.
“Belly ash..?”
“Haha, belyashi. It’s a Russian thing. Diced meat, salt, pepper, onions.”
I wolfed down six of the pastries and was still chewing when the others arrived. The boys obviously didn’t refuse an invitation to join in.
“Bil-ash-i!” Hung rumbled happily. “Mmm… Om-nom-nom…”
I gave them a short description of what had happened. My friends’ faces darkened.
Ed and Malik licked their fingers and started searching on their comms, and Hung expressed the opinion of the room in a single word:
“Fuck!”
“Alright, so,” Ed started speaking, putting his comm down. “The Vinculum is the name of a special prison on a rocky island in Thunder Strait. Nobody has ever escaped from it. The best architects, magineers and builders of the Commonwealth, Empire and the neutrals combined their efforts to build the fortress to order for the Celestial Arbitration. It was a place for so-called ‘enemies of all sentients,’ sentenced to Trial by Ordeal, to serve their time. Even the gods have no access to it. Or so they say, anyway.”
“So Apophis can’t help us,” Hung noted.
“Uh-huh. The White Snake is angry at me anyway, he’d probably rather eat me than help,” I said. “Alright, we don’t have time to arrange an escape anyway. And what’s the point? The Arbiters can reach me anywhere. Let’s focus on what this Ordeal is. Judge Cannon in Tristad sentenced me to the same, but only in a vision. Atiyakari, the assassin from Axiom, said that you can’t revive after dying in an Ordeal; death is always final there.”
“That’s right,” Ed nodded. “It’s a game method to permanently ban a player. Practically without fail. It happens often, because the judges find it convenient to pass the responsibility for a death sentence off to the gods. And the gods trade trinkets for every accused sent for their judgment. As for the Ordeal, people write all kinds of nonsense about it.”
“Yeah, because you can’t write anything down there, so all we have to go on is accounts from dumbasses who lost their characters that way,” Malik added. “And they contradict each other all the time! One says he ended up at an arena filled with thousands of NPCs and players, with a chest of armor and weapons at the center, and when the Ordeal began, everyone’s stun was lifted at once and they all ran straight for the gear. Someone else says that’s garbage, and actually everyone gets put in a queue to meet the gods, and they decide what to do with each. Supposedly Nergal is there, and Seth, and all the other New Gods.”
“Or everyone is telling the truth, but the scenario is random,” Hung suggested.
“Either way, the stories of the Ordeals do agree on one thing. Basically, Alex…” Ed frowned, studying the info on his comm. “You won’t have any advantages. You start from nothing. No skills, perks, stats. It says: ‘all stand before the divine court as they came into this world.’”
I caught myself chewing my lower lip. What I heard buried my last glimmer of hope. I didn’t have the greatest confidence in my non-game skills. Who was Scyth without his superpowers?
Exactly.
“Listen carefully, this is important,” I said, glancing at the clock. Five minutes left until the Ordeal began. “Remember where we leveled up on Terrastera? I need you to contact Kusalarix. Tell her where I am if she asks. But most of all, tell her to send the temple builders. When she gives you the beacon, put it on Terrastera. The place is clear, I put Isis’ Blessing there. The builders have just under twenty-four hours.”
“Consider it done,” Ed nodded. “We’ll try to contact her through Grokuszuid.”
“Secondly. Remember, the mobs can’t cross the edge of the place of power. Assemble our crew and go grind. Even if you don’t kill anything, you’ll gain some levels. I saw a new beast god there, a huge crocodile called Sobek. Try not to kill it right away.” The boys smiled. “Seriously, maybe we can come to an agreement with it.”
“Alright, don’t worry about us,” Hung answered. “The important thing is that you get out!”
Malik started up, suddenly remembering something.
“I have a pet there! Dalezma! Maybe it leveled up and can help us?”
“I doubt it’ll be much good,” Hung chuckled. “That thing is still small!”
“Another thing,” I said. “Don’t tell anyone about the Ordeal except Kusalarix. If our allies find out… at best they’ll panic and think twice about continuing to work with us.”
I stood up from the table. Hung rose and squeezed me in a hug that Ed and Malik joined in on.
“What about the Demonic Games?” Malik asked. “We’re supposed to be flying out in the morning! Tomorrow is moving-in day, the opening ceremony…”
“Malik,” I said seriously. “If I don’t make it, go alone and try to win!”
The boys walked me to MY capsule. Before loading in, I exchanged glances with my friends.
“Why the long faces? This isn’t over yet, not by a long shot!”
“That’s right!” Hung growled. “Ordeal, my ass! You’ll make ‘em eat dirt! Tear ‘em apart, bro!”
“Piece of cake!” Ed said with exaggerated vigor, raising a fist.
Malik opened his mouth, but said nothing. He just nodded, and I answered with the same.
Chapter 31. The Vinculum
I BEGAN MY IMMERSION, perhaps the last for Scyth, and right away an angry roar started drilling into my ears:
“Holy cripes! Who the hell are you, asshole? C’mon, show yaself!”
That fierce voice, deep and hoarse, could have belonged to an orc, titan or ogre. But it was usually goblins who said things like ‘c’mon’ and ‘yaself’…
I waited for my vision to adapt to the gloom of the cell, then saw two baleful eyes gleaming at me from an arm’s length away. There was a system label above them:
Convict Navalik, Goblin Thief
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, Navalik. I’m Scyth.”
“Scyth…” the goblin muttered, his ears twitching madly. “Huh, why you say it like I should know all aboutcha already? All grand like, heh! Scyth, ooh, wow! So what? Should I start pissin’ myself in fear? Huh?”
“You don’t have to,” I muttered.
“Damn straight!” he said in satisfaction. “What made you think you scared ME? I ain’t easy to scare, ya know! Didn’t wanna scare me, yeesh! Wanted to stab me in the back, huh? Stab yourself!”
“Hey, I didn’t mean to insult you! I was just being courteous.”
“Oh, now you tryna walk it back? Get outta here with your fancy words! Curr-tea-us!” the goblin drawled mockingly. “Would ya look at that, a duke’s come to visit!”
The goblin kept mouthing off at me like a rooster at a stranger in a hen coop. He stank of old sweat, onions and Azmodan knew what else. I had no desire whatsoever to deal with my cellmate. There was less than a minute left until the Ordeal, and then Navalik would be my enemy. Anyway, I didn’t like this guy, who I was willing to bet was a gobster, a goblin and human half-breed. I’d met another like him in Kinema while looking for Fortune’s temple — he’d kept as
king if he could borrow my comm amulet to make a call…
I pushed away the restless little guy and shouted:
“Leave me alone!”
Navalik had no intention of doing that. He jumped up and grabbed me by my shirt collar, forcing me to lean down to him, then stuck his hooked nose in my face and hissed, spit flying:
“Stop showboatin’ like you’re the High Priest of Maglubiyet or Emperor Kragosh himself! Yer a walkin’ corpse, just like me, and we’ll be dead before we even have time to take a shit…”
“That’s why I don’t want to talk to you.”
“Huh?”
“I need time to take a shit.”
Snorting mistrustfully, Navalik backed off, leaving me in peace. Finally! I needed to look at what I had.
I leaned back against the wall and stood in a stance that Oyama used during one of our sparring sessions. Hammerfist! An ordinary strike, no Hammer component. I didn’t even move the air, but the goblin’s laughter sure did.
Stunning Kick! The way special moves worked was that I did them myself, but the game system turned the movement into a super-strike…
Crack! The move must have been a sight to see — the earth disappeared from beneath my feet, I lost my balance and fell, painfully hitting the back of my head against the wall.
“Ahaha-ha!” Navalik’s uproarious laughter hurt more than my head. “I thought I’d seen it all, but I ain’t never seen nobody take a fall like that! Thank ye, heartless Maglubiyet, for consoling me in my final minutes!”
The goblin must have seen better in the dark than me — he approached and hovered over me.
“What’re ya wavin’ your hoofs for anyway? You don’t look like a clown or one of them circus freaks in a hat.” A bony hand flashed out of the darkness. “Get up, buffoon.”
Navalik helped me up, and that very second the cell door swung open. An indifferent voice filled the air as if from nowhere, sounding more mechanical than alive:
“Convicts, leave your cell. Follow the light to the portal. Fail to reach it in time and you will be disincarnated. Convicts, leave your cell. Follow…”
A timer began counting down:
Total surviving convicts: 981 of 981.
Disincarnation in: 04:53… 04:52… 04:51…
“Whaddaya waitin’ for? Let’s go!” The goblin grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to the door.
We emerged into a tunnel lined on either side with cell doors. It was already full of people. Navalik and I were first pulled ahead into the crowd, then pressed against a wall and dragged along in the stream. The convicts cleared their way with elbows, knees, shoulders, fangs and teeth, punching each other furiously and rushing for the portal. Flashing magical arrows on the ceiling pointed the way.
We were pushed forward a little, to the doorway of the next cell, and only then could I take a breath…
“Mooo-oo-oove!” an enraged roar rang out with the clatter of hooves…
Crash! A freaking minotaur had taken a run from the back wall of the cell and smashed right into the crowd. Unfortunately, the goblin and I were the first in his path. Intense pain shot through my ribs — I was impaled on one of the horns! My goblin cellmate emitted muffled shrieks from beneath one of the idiot’s hooves.
Groans, screams and all manner of swearwords came from the crowd. Twisting, I pulled myself off the horn, rolled into the minotaur’s cell and struggled to pull in a groaning Navalik. The crowd suddenly surged from the other end of the corridor and the idiot minotaur was trampled under dirty feet.
The crowding in the tunnel forced a few sentients through our door. I opened my eyes, saw nothing but a rear end with a tail, reeled back. The tail belonged to a dryad, a woman with the body of a deer. She shrieked piercingly, thrashed her legs and started to push her way outside. Her bouncing hooves cracked me in the nose and head and the dryad skittered away across the heads of the crowd. My health was in the red.
Navalik groaned nearby. The cell was empty and the press of people in the tunnel was beginning to thin out.
Disincarnation in: 00:37… 00:36…
“Run!” Now it was my turn to pull the almost expired goblin to his feet. “We have to hurry!”
“Nah…” He coughed, spitting out black blood. “I can’t… My legs… Get gone…”
“I’ll carry you!” I said, trying to pick the goblin up.
I couldn’t do it, not with my stats at zero. I had to drag Navalik, tripping in the darkness over the corpses littering the tunnel. I crawled over the trampled minotaur, his skull caved in. Once we were by the portal itself, I saw one of the deceased disincarnating, like a glass sculpture exploding into shards.
“Is this the Ordeal?” I asked, not expecting an answer, but the goblin heard and replied:
“Nah, just the damn… prelude… They wanna get rid… of the slowest…” The goblin was dying, his voice weakening and barely audible, lost in the roar of the crowd and his own coughing. “Listen here, Scyth… On the other side… You finish me…”
“Go to hell!” I snarled, dragging Navalik through the portal…
Chapter 32. The Ordeal
WE WERE THROWN OUT onto the flat surface of a cliff surrounded by a bottomless drop. Tiny particles floated in the air and emitted a dead light, but the stars were still shining.
“My ribs’re goners…” the goblin groaned, constantly coughing. “My lungs are pierced… Ugh… What a shit-show…”
Navalik’s last health points were melting away — he was breathing, but it sounded like a death rattle. Bubbles of blood formed on his lips.
Once I was sure that nobody was planning to kill us right away, I looked around. The sharp scent of musk hung in the air, burning my nostrils and making my eyes tear up.
The narrow strip of rock we were on dropped off sharply behind us, while ahead it descended at an angle, disappearing in thick mist a couple of dozen yards away. A murky forcefield blocked our path that way, with no way around or over it. As I touched it, I felt a cold burn and pulled my hand away. I lost one point of health and my hand went numb for a while.
Mist swirled in the chasm behind, yellow and venom-green with black streaks. Part of it began to form into tentacles that crawled up the cliff face, touching the edges. One felt out a stone a couple of yards from us and I froze unwillingly, seeing that it wasn’t just mist, but something otherly, and definitely deadly: I saw pale green pulsating vessels within the semi-transparent tentacle.
The sky, or whatever it was above us, suddenly lit up and the shapes of gods showed clearly against the horizon. They huddled above an arena like greedy spectators crowding around a table upon which hundreds of insignificant bugs must fight to the death.
There were no names, but the figures of Nergal and Marduk stood out among the rest. Like in the Lakharian Desert, they stood opposite each other in the sky. Between them, I saw the shadow of a woman with snakes for hair, a two-headed god with horns, a sinister figure in a top hat, a colossal winged snake, a man with a huge belly and women’s breasts… There were plenty of others — the entire pantheon of the New Gods in all their variety were here to watch the Ordeal. Hundreds of parasites drinking the life blood of mortals.
That same inhuman voice I heard in the cell drifted down from above. Text appeared before my eyes, copying the voice:
Convicts!
The rules of the Ordeal are simple: may the one true innocent be vindicated! The survivor gains the right to live.
Before the eyes of the True Gods, all those sentenced are equal. None have that which they have earned, learned or won. Gain strength and claim divine gifts by taking away the lives of others.
May none remain but the righteous one!
Get ready! Ordeal begins in 02:00… 01:59…
Total surviving convicts: 862 of 981.
Over a hundred prisoners failed to escape the Vinculum… I could feel the parasites who called themselves the True Gods shifting in anticipation.
The goblin twitched and I returned to
him.
“Navalik?”
“Listen…” the goblin groaned. “I know you. The Green League knows you. The higher-ups weren’t lyin’… You’re a stand-up guy, even if you are an idiot.”
“I’ll cover you,” I answered. “Lie still, try to regain your strength.”
“Hack-hack…” the goblin coughed, half laughing. “Dumbass… Only one gets outta here alive… So come on… Do it… I’m ready to go see my ancestors…”
“Go to hell. If you want to die, jump into the chasm.”
“Think, dumbass! I die either way. If you kill me, you get stronger.”
Path of Spirit (Disgardium Book #6): LitRPG Series Page 32
