Aeon Chronicles Online_Book 1_Devil's Deal

by Dante Sakurai

  Rowan fought a compulsion to cackle and gloat over the lazy wizard’s death. “Thank you, sir. I’ll go look for him now.”

  “Very well. Keep it up, kid.” The captain nodded and sauntered back to his post by the dungeon entrance. He didn’t appear too troubled by the dwarf’s death.

  Rowan turned and headed off in the direction of the magic shop. A small smile spreading across his lips, his insides giddy from the deception. He chuckled and reviewed his plan for the foreseeable future.

  It was time to learn some water and ice spells for those fire and lava elementals.

  As Rowan walked passed the market building, he realized that he wasn’t wearing any of his gear anymore apart from the amulet and pouch. He opened the inventory interface and to his relief, none of his gold or stored items was missing. He began repurchasing his equipment and weapons, cutting into the 30 gold he’d nicked from Alastor.

  Thirty minutes later, Rowan stood at the town entrance leading to the mines. A pair of guards ignored his exit.

  He consumed a couple basic spells whilst on the dirt road within the trees.

  New Active Skill: Water Bolt

  Fires a bolt of water at your target. Will to control temperature from 1 to 99 degrees.

  Skill Level: 1, 0%

  Skill Tier: 0

  Mana Cost: 25

  Effect: Deals 0-230 cold damage + 100% weapon damage with an applicable water weapon.

  Tier Effect: 5% bonus damage when casting with water type mana.

  New Active Skill: Lesser Holy Light

  Heals a target with non-dark mana or damages a target with dark mana.

  Skill Level: 1, 0%

  Skill Tier: 0

  Mana Cost: 25

  Effect: Heals 310-430 health points/Deals 230-310 light damage.

  Tier Effect: 1% increased health points healed/1% increased light damage.

  Rowan stopped trudging through dirt once he learned Lesser Holy Light. He had Ice-Dark mana and casting it would sear his hand. On top of that, none of the basic scrolls he bought could heal a target with dark mana. He was dead if he ran out of Lesser Small Health Potions—which he had wisely purchased over two hundred of for two gold. They stacked up to 250 in a single pouch slot.

  Kicking a stone down the path, he continued his way.

  Till a shimmer in the air caught his attention. It was closing in on Rowan. Fast.

  A cloaked monster?

  He jumped behind a tree and drew his Crystal Yew Wand, good for casting spells of any element apart from dark. He pointed at the shimmer. And shot a Fire Bolt.

  The bolt splashed against the shimmer like it hit a wall of granite.

  You have dealt 0 damage to your target

  Rowan’s brows rose into his hairline. He was in deep shit.

  “You meanie!” a familiar feminine voice said. “I haven’t even done anything to you yet.”

  A player! Though Rowan couldn’t quite wrap his mind around the voice. He knew he’d heard it before… But where? At least she wasn’t hostile—yet.

  She decloaked in a shimmer, hopping off a black and gold bloom-like mount which she threw into a black, scaled bag a second later. She wore black-gray, tattered but ornate robes that gave off a miasma of black-blue energy. A pointed, oversized hat sat on her straight blond hair. Swirling dark-blue eyes. Pink lips and a petite stature.

  Rowan Examined.

  [Player] Gabby LeMort: Level ?

  Health: ?

  Mana: ?

  Stamina: ?

  The face and name registered. Gabrielle? The same quirky and irresistible girl who had been assigned to watch over him on his day back to Westwind Highschool?

  “Heya Rowan!”

  The fuck was happening?

  Chapter 11

  Only Six

  The pretty blond girl known as Gabrielle—Gabby LeMort—waved her fingers in front of Rowan’s dazed eyes. Her in-game character was a replica of her real-life self other than the eyes and a slightly sharper face and nose. A silver tattoo of cursive symbols snaked down her left cheek onto her neck and collarbone, disappearing beneath her impressive robe. She said something—her lithe voice floating into one ear and out the other. Rowan blinked, uncomprehending of the situation. He was too sure that Gabrielle had witnessed him murder piggy-boy point-blank.

  But here she was—greeting Rowan like an old friend. Not attacking him like she should be. And by his estimates, she had the power to kill him with a single attack.

  Two fingers pointed at Rowan, spaced an inch and half apart. A wobbling ball of water grew from nothing. It splashed Rowan in the face, cool, bitter liquid filling his nostrils and parted lips.

  You have taken 1 Cold Damage

  Rowan shook off his stupor and whacked away her fingers. He snarled through his teeth, “Don’t do that again.”

  She laughed, her mirth light and layered with a low echo. “Were you listening?”

  Despite that little water splash and his growl that could’ve escalated badly, Gabrielle appeared not disturbed by his presence. He decided to play it safe. Maybe he could sink his teeth into this sexy prey with enough cajoling. “No…” he admitted, “Can you repeat yourself? Why are you here? How did you find me?” That seemed like a reasonable starter. “Don’t you remember what I did to pi— Max?” Better to get it over with—no point in stalling.

  “Ah…” Gabrielle mumbled, her eyes looking at the top-right. “Yeah, I saw. You stabbed him… In the eye? Or was it up the nose?” she said cheerily.

  Rowan frowned, his mind and mana stirring in confusion. This was indeed one strange girl. “In the eye,” he confirmed in a measured tone. He was unsure of which mask to wear. He couldn’t read her at all. Her character didn’t fit any psychological profile he’d studied.

  “Good for you,” she said and gave him a thumbs-up.

  Unbelievable. Rowan didn’t know how to respond to that. This was the first time he’d interacted with a mad-person other than Tom and Jeremy and Roth. And himself. And Gabrielle was by far the maddest of the three. An enigma which he couldn’t crack or figure out. Could she snap any second and zap him? Rowan held his tongue and went with the flow. A smart strategy for situations like these.

  “And to answer your first three questions, I’m here because uncle Vincent said you got yourself eaten by a monster. Om nom nom nom!”

  Rowan’s grip on his wand tightened. He would’ve fried her face for that display if she wasn’t invincible against his puny bolts.

  And did she say uncle Vincent told her that? As in Vincent Roth?

  Rowan asked slowly, “You’re with Doctor Roth the neurologist?”

  Gabrielle smiled and nodded. “Yup. He’s my second-uncle.”

  It was a risk to test the non-disclosure agreement so he resigned to a vague question, “You know of the plan?”

  “Yup. We’re making a virtual reality world order!”

  So she knew everything. Likely more than what Rowan had been told. Somehow this quirky girl had been accepted into whatever secret society her uncle was apart of even at her young age. She had to be truly exceptional. A genius like he’d first assumed back at Westwind—like her uncle. It seemed that madness and brains ran in the family. Even distantly.

  Rowan nodded. “And you realize I’m going to be the final boss upon this game’s release? Correct?”

  “Yup. I’m here to help ya.” Her arms spread into a dramatic gesture. “We dark classes have to stick together you know.”

  What a lucky break! The good doctor had come through on his promise of help in swift time—by sending his most-wanted sexual desire. And dark classes? He asked in a rush, “You’re a dark class? What class are you? Where did you get your tome? Did you have to fight a mimic in a dungeon? Where are the others? Are they on my side too? The forums are empty and the market—”

  “Whoah slow down!” She frowned, those swirling eyes lighting up. “One question at a time.”

  Rowan withheld a gnarl. He exhaled, the icy void
whining at the back of his mind. “Can you tell me about your class?” And tacked on, “please?”

  Her expression faded back to merry-neutral. Her eye-glow and aura shrunk. “Witch-Doctor. Crafter-support hybrid based on Water-Dark mana. I know lots of dark curses, wards, buffs, auras and I make loads of awesome items unique to my class!”

  Extremely useful. Rowan expected some sort of overpopulated damage dealer like in other MMOs. Supports were played by few and always in demand, this game included judging from the distribution of forum posts. His chances of completing The Frozen Calamity increased exponentially. He’d just have to put-up with Gabrielle’s strange personality—for now… at least before getting to the good, sexy part and discarding her if she ends up too problematic. He nodded. “What level are you?”

  She blanked. An hour-glass icon appeared at the tip of her hat.

  She was accessing her character sheet, Rowan realized after a moment.

  “Ah… I forgot your Examine skill is still low.” Gabrielle scratched her chin. “Lemme just show you.”

  At the bottom of the interface, Rowan’s Social icon vibrated, a red exclamation mark appearing. He reluctantly let the window fill over two-thirds of his vision and quickly accepted a friend request. An entry at the top of his friends list appeared.

  [Online] Gabby LeMort. Level 223 Witch-Doctor. Western Greenwood, Stonehurst

  Level 223. Excellent. Rowan focused on her entry but no additional dialog appeared. The buttons for delete, block, add, message, etc, were all missing too. Activated upon thought. Rowan swiped away the window. “What are your stats? How many skills do you have?”

  Her mouth puckered at that question. “Hundreds…” Her tongue poked into her cheek, then a dialog appeared.

  Gabby LeMort has invited you to a party. Do you accept?

  Rowan ignored his momentary surprise and nodded. A standard party-list appeared at the left, himself at the top and Gabby below him. She had over six thousand health points, seventeen thousand mana, and a thousand stamina, that exponential scaling really kicking in at her level. A row of buff icons sat under her bars. Rowan Examined each, finding only names without description. She sported Disease Immune, Poison Immune, Mana Shield, Tainted, Desecrated, and Unholy Aura.

  Rowan was about to ask for details of her buffs, skill, character, and items but decided it would take far too long. He’d just have to assume she lived up to what her class name and description claimed. He moved on. “Where did you get your Witch-Doctor’s tome. Do you know where to get a Necromancer’s.”

  A giggle escaped her lips. “Nowhere.”

  His wand-hand lifted by an inch on its own. “Tell me,” he simply said with a hard voice. There was nothing he could do to force her, nothing he could offer.

  “Mmmm,” she mumbled, smirking. She was already treading on his nerves. “You have Ice-Dark mana right?”

  He nodded. “How did you know—”

  “Vincent told me. I’ll tell ya how to become a Necromancer… If ya promise me some things.”

  What? She wasn’t his to command?

  Rowan mentally sighed—of course, she wouldn’t be. She was a player like anyone else and plus she was in Roth’s family. “What do you want?”

  Gabrielle grinned, her mouthful of perfect white teeth gleaming under the sun. She reached into her scaled pouch and pulled out a—

  Stuffed toy. A teddy-bear.

  Before Rowan spoke, the toy moved. His instincts kicked in and he flinched backward. Never again would he be eaten by a mimic.

  Gabrielle laughed. “Calm down. It’s just Redwing. He used to be my dragon familiar. I had to put him in a teddy to save his life.” She held the toy up and spoke to it. “Wave Red. This is Rowan. He says he wants to become a Necromancer.” The toy’s arm lifted and waved. Gabrielle looked back at Rowan and pointed. “You’ll make him a new body made of bone and mana! It’s simple once you become a Necro. Do you promise?”

  “I promise,” he said without thought. That was such a trivial request.

  The toy seemed elate. “Great!” Gabrielle said and dropped Redwing back into her pouch. She added in a rush, “Oh by the way I also want a section of this continent for a castle and an army of high-level minions to guard and help build it by the lakes and rivers by where the Water Mages are and a few good mining locations for resources you know?” She took a large breath and grinned sheepishly.

  Eye twitching, Rowan repelled all urge to impale her smug, piggy-like face with a dagger. “Fine,” he spat. He was planning to conquer the continent anyway. Gabrielle could look after a part of it if she wanted—as long as she remained useful.

  “And I also want access to all crafting materials you come across.”

  Unacceptable! Rowan stared her down. A small, sinister smile grew on her lips the longer he held the gaze. His cold, dark mana retreated into the void in apprehension. Was she about to zap him?

  He finally said, “Only if you craft me what I ask for.”

  “Hmmmm…” She puffed a cheek. “Okay. That’s fair.”

  Deal done, Rowan breathed till his veins and muscles ablaze with frost and fire calmed. He’d given up so much for her help and information and there wasn’t anything he could’ve done apart from more negotiating. He doubted she’d have compromised on the castle. Maybe he should’ve threatened her… No, she was a fucking level 223 Witch-Doctor. The experience requirements per level would be in the millions if the exponential scaling held steady. He sighed and caught her eyes again. She was waiting patiently. “Okay, tell me where do I get a Necromancer’s tome. Could there be one in this dungeon under the town? There was a mimic guarding a circle door with gold markings.”

  Gabrielle blinked. “And ya went in as a level 6?”

  His nose crumpled for a second. “Yes. Just tell me.”

  She spoke calmly, “The dark classes don’t have tomes and you can’t craft them. You need the right dark mana type and do a ritual in a dark temple. The dungeon ya described sounds like one. They’re almost indestructible and you need a unique keystone to enter.” Her eyes wandered and she reached into her pouch. Then pulled out black notebook. “Hmmm I think I wrote down the ritual for a Necromancer somewhere…” She flipped through the thin pages.

  A ritual. The lack of symmetry between the dark and light classes surprised Rowan to a great extent. This was a first. Maybe this game wasn’t as cliche as the town he’d spawned into suggested. “What do I need for it? Are you going to raid the town—”

  Clinks and footsteps neared from behind.

  Rowan spun, Examining the man in plate armor and raising his wand.

  [Player] Cpt LightWind: Level ?

  Health: ?

  Mana: ?

  Stamina: ?

  Him again.

  LightWind said, “What? A Witch-Doctor? Wait, aren’t you on the king’s most wanted lis—”

  Gabrielle said something in the dark language. A streak of black smog shot into LightWind’s chest, ignoring the steel platebody like it was air. Within seconds, his skin and flesh dried, cracked, and blackened till it was nothing but dust in the wind. A skeleton wearing a suit of armor fell onto the path. Dead.

  You have leveled up! (3X)

  You have 8 undistributed stat points

  You have 8 undistributed skill points

  Rowan whirled back to Gabrielle, astonished.

  She spun an onyx wand decorated with an assortment of green gems between her fingers. She smirked, scanning the notebook without a care of what she’d done to the player. Her eyes flickered to Rowan for a half-second. “He wasn’t your friend was he?”

  He looked at the suit. Then back at Gabrielle. His cracked amulet dangled at his heart, emitting a gentle cold pulse every heartbeat. The mana in his arteries tingled in a light rush. “No.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “That was impressive.” He truly meant it.

  Gabrielle sang, “Thank you.” She snapped closed her book and skipped to the skeleton. “A
ren’t you gonna loot him? Too late.” A ring of dark blue encircled her hand. What was left of Cpt LightWind was vacuumed into her pouch including the skeleton. “Hmmmm at least the bones are good for a Draught.”

  Rowan shook his head, stowing an assortment of wonder and questions for later. For now, he needed his class ascension. “Did you find out what I need for the ritual? And where do I get a keystone? Do you have one?”

  “Firstly…” Gabrielle poked his shoulder, a wisp of dark mana smudging onto his cloak. “Ya need to be at least level fifty before you can even think about the ritual.”