Aeon Chronicles Online_Book 1_Devil's Deal

by Dante Sakurai

  He swatted away the lingering mana. Dull pain ate at his left hand, his fingers blackening.

  You have taken 5 dark damage

  You have taken 5 dark damage

  You have taken 5 dark damage

  That bitch. He reached for a health potion.

  Gabrielle pouted. “Hmph, that’s sad.” She waved her wand over his hand, the gem at the tip flushing bright green. “Forgot your dark mana’s suppressed till ya unlock a dark class.”

  You have been healed for full health

  Rowan grumbled, testing his restored fingers, and noted to ask if a Necromancer could learn that. Though at least he now had a healer to work with. “And secondly?” he asked.

  “Keystones are rare drops by any dark boss and they get sold for the faction bounty and sent to the library vaults,” she said, slipping her wand into a thick, black holster on her leg, “There’s a keystone for each dark class and the temples adapt to whichever is used to open them. I only have a Witch-Doctor keystone which I snagged from a wraith boss.”

  Just great. Another obstacle in his path to greatness. It was like the AI controller wanted his journey to be as difficult as possible. He’d be struggling in the mines right now if it wasn’t for Roth’s intervention. He was lucky to have Gabrielle on his side—though he’d never admit it out loud.

  New Quest: Necromancer’s Keystone

  Your comrade who you don’t deserve has revealed to you how to unlock the Necromancer class. Now all you have to do is convince her to slay enough dark bosses for you to obtain the right keystone.

  Difficulty: C

  Length: Medium-Short

  Recommended Level: 1+

  Failure conditions: None

  Success conditions: Obtain a Necromancer’s Keystone

  Reward: Access to a Necromancer’s Ritual Altar

  And another goddamn taunting quest description. The AI despised Rowan for sure.

  However, the difficulty, length, and recommended level were absurdly low for a boss-hunting quest. Maybe there was something he or Gabrielle hadn’t considered? Though it could be low because Gabrielle could one-shot most low-level bosses and farm them all day on her broom.

  Gabrielle raised a thin eyebrow. “And don’t ask me to attack a Library because even I can’t. I’m just one character. You’d need an army for that. You’re the only evil-aligned player with the right mana to unlock a summoner class.”

  Alarming—even in his crippled emotional state. Rowan looked her in those blue, swirling eyes. “How many dark-class players are there?”

  “Six! Including you and I,” she said a bit too happily. “They’re all varying psychos in real-life. It’s one of the measures the AI has when it does its mana sorting thing.”

  Bloody hell. Only six?! What kind of light-dark balance was this? This had to be the worst AI controller cooked up by incompetent devs. Six was a number thousands of times less than what Rowan had expected. No wonder the dark classes’ section of the forums were empty. This was going to be a incredibly difficult rise-to-power. It’d test his gaming abilities to the precipice and send him tumbling over if he missteps significantly.

  And no, he couldn’t antagonize his few possible allies or ever discard Gabrielle and he doubted any light-sided players would join him. MMOs are team-games and solo players always fell to the bottom of the rankings. If the AI controller wanted light versus dark in a world flooded with tripe light, then so be it. Those other four better not be retarded pigs. He reluctantly drawled, “Will they join me?”

  Gabrielle tapped her chin. “Mmmm… Maybe if you become powerful enough. One of them is oh so aggressive! The other three are neutral and sometimes group together. Though they always beg me for help. I’m the only support out of the lot!”

  God damn. He realized: he hadn’t asked for her loyalty in the deal back there. He could’ve used Gabrielle as leverage but he’d negotiated from a position of poor information.

  The girl was cunning. He needed to find a way to secure her unwavering loyalty. The cold void seemed to approve of this intent, its sentience growing. His psychosis was worsening. He picked at his nails and considered his next moves.

  Gabrielle spoke again, much more serious than her usual self, answering his unasked questions, “That one player I killed will probably alert the town of my presence and the guards will call for backup. Or he’ll call for backup while dead if he has a guild or friends in the cities. I’ll have to wipe out the town and destroy the spawn point or portals will start popping up around the temple. It’ll shoot ya up to at least fifty too!”

  Now that was what Rowan liked to hear. It looked like the trope-filled town was finally getting what it deserved even if it wasn’t an undead Apocalypse. He’ll have to settle for a rampaging Witch-Doctor till he unlocked his true power. “Alright, let’s go.”

  Chapter 12

  Chemistry

  Stonehurst’s spawnpoint was located at the courtyard, specifically a runestone embedded into the center of the fountain. Spawnstones were either generated by the AI controller, dropped by high level bosses, or crafted by players who had trained their Runecrafting profession to level 180—the bare minimum required for crafting a Lesser Small Spawnstone. Gabrielle was one of the few players who had the patience to train Runecrafting. A boring skill but highly, highly, highly useful for building a base and dark continent.

  As Rowan was crushed in the grasp of Gabrielle’s uncanny strength, she chanted in the dark language and charged an orb of dark energy at the tip of her Stealthed wand, aiming for the courtyard fountain. Oh ho ho, the fireworks was about to start!

  Big Bad Death Attack

  Focuses and gathers mana from the body and surroundings to unleash a blast of destructive power. Use with caution.

  Skill Level: 66, 4%

  Skill Tier: 7

  Mana Cost: 7235

  Cooldown: 1 hour

  Channel Duration: 7.5 seconds

  Effect: Deals 18530-19750 dark damage + 150% weapon damage with an applicable dark weapon + 100% gathered dark mana.

  Tier Effect: 120% increased blast radius. 25% reduced channel duration. 250% increased damage. Converts 10% of gathered non-dark mana to dark.

  Big Bad Death Attack—Witch-Doctor’s ultimate and only offensive spell which wasn’t a damage-over-time curse and could damage structures. The scroll had taken months of real-world time to obtain but in the end, it was worth it a million times over. It’d been valuable during countless tight, ugly situations. No one had expected a support character to possess such a skill. No one had expected the dazzling, powerful LeMort could deal more damage than a Fire Lord. The only downside was a high zone of friendly fire and collateral damage and a ridiculous cooldown.

  The dark sphere grew to the size of an ogre’s head, pulsating and crackling with delicious mana. Gabrielle fired down the street she stood. A swell of dark mana roiled in her innards and a colossal black beam instantly disintegrated the cobbled road and two bystanders—dummies. The beam detonated against the fountain in an earth-shattering quake lasing for several heartbeats. A plume of black mana mushroomed into the boring blue sky.

  You have dealt 2,354,200 total dark damage to structures and characters (focus to expand)

  You have destroyed Stonehurst’s spawnpoint. Players will now respawn at their previous or nearest location

  The courtyard of merchants and the surrounding ring of buildings were no more—gone along with the spawnpoint. A blackened crater now scarred the center of this lowly town. No anchor for portals. No runestone for faction communication. The partially unearthed dark temple remained without a scratch, its entrance ten feet in the air. This one looked to be a pretty little pyramid.

  Gabrielle breathed heavily, the familiar drain taking its toll while her mana regenerated by thousands per second. The view of destruction put her on a high of bliss. “Heheheheheh,” she giggled and waited for panic to ensue as per the plan they’d cooked up on the path. It’d been an irritating discussion with
the boy. She’d humored him—no choice other than cursing his kinda good-looking face. That would’ve sucked—for him!

  “Incredible,” Rowan whispered in her arm.

  Oh, she had a hostage. “Quiet and be a good hostage,” she said, tightening her grip. His body squished and leaked a trickle of dark mana.

  He grumbled something under his breath. He was quite cute when grouchy. “Hehe,” she snickered.

  Guards and townsfolk and several players scrambled like puny ants around her. Many stared at the crater in stunned awe, some shouted and ran, others whipped out their weapons as their heads bounced left and right looking for an enemy.

  Now was her time to shine. She canceled Stealth and began walking to the temple, dragging Rowan along. “Stupid monkeys! Did you really think this little town would hide a dark temple?!” Her voice was light and playful. Half practice, half instinct, 100% Gabby.

  A young girl near Gabrielle screamed. “It’s— It’s LeMort!”

  She ran and was struck down with a Flesh Corruption Curse after two steps. Her dress and small skeleton crumpled onto a lawn. The weak perish and the strong survive. Such was the way of the universe. But really, she just hated these darn humans and Draconians for hunting her like a tasty rabbit. Scumbags.

  Gabrielle laughed and chanted curse after curse, aiming at random fleeing residents. Skeletons and poisoned bodies dotted the streets. She had to avoid disease spells for Rowan’s sake, much to her dismay. She had some magnificent, beautiful diseases to play with in her arsenal. They were perfect for low level targets though much less effective against targets similar to her level.

  Soon enough, the town center was devoid of townsfolk and players.

  But her Detection Ward triggered as she stepped into the crater, a magnetic sensation pointing her to the direction of the threat. So the guards finally noticed. Her belly tightened in anticipation.

  “Not another step, LeMort,” a man said through a full-helm. He wore highish level paladin gear and led a group of mediocre geared characters. They glowed in golden-white light.

  She Examined the lot.

  Guard Captain Ross: Level 177

  Class: Paladin

  Faction: Draconian Kingdom

  Health: 12350

  Mana: 4650

  Stamina: 7430

  Buffs: Protection Aura, Holy Light Aura, Blessing of Vitality

  Huh?

  They were all paladins named as town guards, the captain higher than the rest by 50 levels. She scowled. Rowan hadn’t mentioned paladins here. How could’ve he left this little tiny but very important detail out? She looked at his frowning face and caught his eye.

  “They must have been disguised,” he said.

  She coughed a breath. “The NPCs are getting smarter.” The AI had adapted and learned quickly from two years of data on human behavior. This was a completely different game compared to the start of alpha. But still, these pipsqueaks were no match for her. Only the strong survived. The power difference between level 177 and 223 was over five times.

  Ross said, “You might as well Drop the Draco kid. We’re not afraid to cut through him if we have to.”

  A giddy smile tugged at her cheeks. Rowan’s idea turned out to be quite smart after all. Maybe he wasn’t as empty-brained as she thought. “What?” she said with false horror, “You would kill one of your precious Draconian nobles?”

  “Tch,” Ross spat and pointed his longsword at her, “We both know he’s an adventurer.” Disgust was clear in his voice. “So it doesn’t matter either way.”

  “Hmph,” Gabrielle pouted. She readied her wand and eyed Rowan, bringing her perfect lips to his ear. “You liar!” She released her grasp and gave him a little push, then flicked her wand and incanted a Laceration Curse.

  Rowan dashed for the group of guards as the curse sliced his back. “Please help! Ah!” he screamed, dark mana bleeding from the cut on his back.

  One paladin stepped forward, arms open to catch Rowan. Another began casting a healing spell.

  Fools.

  A cold tingle danced in the front of Gabrielle’s head, a teeny tiny smirk spreading on her lips. She had to admit, this idea was pure genius. At first, she’d been apprehensive about listing some of her skills and crafting recipes for Rowan but now she had no regrets. He could even be classified as a strategic prodigy when he calmed the fuck down.

  The paladin caught Rowan and looked at his wound. “What the—”

  Ross yelled, “Shit! Activate Divine Mar—”

  Gabrielle said a single word in the dark language: Detonate. She flicked her wand, feeding the onyx Water-Dark mana. A ray of black-blue energy struck Rowan in the seeping cut. The reaction was instant and violent. A vortex of Water-Dark mana erupted from Gabrielle’s crafted Rowan-Doll and consumed the Paladin party. The doll exploded and tainted shrapnel shredded every paladin into bloody, black bits. Their metal armor dissolved in the alkaline mana.

  Without pause, Gabrielle waved her wand in a wide arc and ignited the fuse on every Canister of Green Widow Venom in town with a simple thought.

  The Rowan-Doll explosion cleared. Bits of corroded flesh and bone and metal paved the cobblestone road. Glorious.

  You have dealt 62,560 dark damage to your targets

  All dead.

  Except for Ross. He’d activated Divine Mark at the last millisecond.

  What an asshole. He ruined a perfect bomb!

  Guard Captain Ross: Level 177

  Class: Paladin

  Faction: Draconian Kingdom

  Health: 1

  Mana: 3215

  Stamina: 6110

  Buffs: Protection Aura, Holy Light Aura

  Debuffs: Tainted

  Ross coughed and fell to one knee, wisps of Water-Dark mana eating into his skin and plate armor. His fancy full-helm was ruined, his face burned and his skin peeled off fat and muscle. He breathed heavily, shield facing Gabrielle. “You bitch.”

  How original. “Oh jolly. Tell me how you really feel.” She strode up to the injured paladin, eyes narrowing. She savored the sentient AI’s suffering and licked her lips. She breathed in the chemical smell of victory.

  “You’ll never win.” Ross struggled to stand, falling to a knee as the corrosive mana ruined his gear. “You and the others are just five adventures. Five! We have armies and fortresses and legions of adventurers that you will never match! Good will always triumph over evil scum like you, LeMort! We will hunt you down to the edges of this world till your false dark gods tire of your failures!”

  His speech continued in Vincent-like fashion. Gabrielle rolled her eyes and pointed her wand between his eyes. She summoned mana and hate from her black heart for her most painful curse.

  Ross still hadn’t finished. “You are nothing but weak filth…”

  Weak filth.

  The words echoed and echoed in the depths of Gabrielle’s mind till she was lost in the slow movements of Ross’ lips and bleeding flesh. The world spun, her heart racing like never before. What was this emotion? She hadn’t felt this since…

  August 17th, 2124

  Gabrielle dripped sulfuric acid into a flask of sodium hydroxide. The freaking indicator just wouldn’t change to a green. She had overshot ten times now and ended up with an acidic, yellowish solution. What was going wrong? She’d followed the textbooks instructions to the tee, handling her burette exactly as written. Nothing was working!

  She whined through her tight lips and looked out the window. The sun was bright and the grass was green. The other children played soccer, laughing and smiling and tumbling in fun. None of them had to do this. None of them had to learn… Chemistry. They all got easy schoolwork and never even had to solve a single algebra equation.

  Jason scored a goal. He was over the moon, the other boys and girls cheering around him like a swarm of bees in that yellow and black uniform. Gabrielle never got cheered by them before. She never even got the chance to cheer for someone. Always held up alone with extra work. She neve
r even got a prize or praise from her tutor.

  Her fist balled, her eyes moistening. She breathed in the light scent of chemicals in this stupid lab. She might as well burn this all down with the Bunsen burners.

  “What are you doing?” a hard voice said from the door. Her tutor, Aunt Roth.

  Gabrielle wiped her eyes and put her hands back on the burette. “I’m sorry Aunt Roth.”

  Aunt Roth strode to Gabrielle’s workstation. She bent down, looking at the bottles of acid and base through those shiny circle glasses.

  Without warning, Gabrielle was struck across the cheek. She staggered back, burning pain branding her face like a hot iron. A tear tumbled over the brim of her eye and did little to cool the agony. Only the last strand of sheer will prevented her from crying out like any other kid would. She touched her cheek. No blood—this time.

  Aunt Roth sneered. “How many times did you restart this experiment?”