The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Was Elizabeth a minion of Madonna’s?” I asked in astonishment, and received a glance of respect from Gerhard. It was nice to prove that I was not hopeless.

  “You could not have found that out in the estate,” the Head noted.

  “I received some information from Bernard; the rest is my conclusion.”

  “Commendable. I hope you don’t have any new requests?” It was obvious that the conversation had tired Gerhard out, and I hastened with the last one, not hoping for success.

  “Would it be too presumptuous of me to ask for access to the Library of the Citadel? I would like to learn more about the Lecleur family.”

  Gerhard sighed tiredly:

  “Access to the Library is granted only after six months. Let’s not break the rules. Particularly since the information you need is in a restricted section. It’s time for you to go. It will be better if you leave for the Sanctuary straight from here.”

  Actually, I was glad to get away from the company of Iven and Archibald; they were too oppressive with their continuous self-importance and vitriol.

  Inhaling the cool air of freedom, I checked to see that there was not that much time till I had to see Ahean, and decided to do one last thing that would bring me at least somewhat closer to solving the mystery of the pendant. I addressed the Game itself:

  “In order to complete the quest “Stolen Pendant” and deliver an objective verdict for the case “Stolen Pendant” I need architectural plan drawings of the Lecleur estate, including all secret passages, niches and other concealed elements where the pendant could have been hidden. I am not requesting information regarding protection of the estate nor about all the traps that are abundant in those passages, since that is private information of the Lecleur family; however, without knowledge of what secret passages that exist within the estate and their configuration, it is impossible to compete the quest.”

  “The request is denied. Information on secret passages of the Lecleur estate has been made unavailable based on the decision of the head of the family. To obtain said information, permission from the head of the family is required.”

  “In order to complete the quest…,” I was not going to give up, and repeated the long rationale once again. “I need information as to when the head of the family made the information on secret passages unavailable?

  “The request is denied. Information on secret passages of the Lecleur estate, including the date of concealing the information, has been made unavailable based on the decision of the head of the family. To obtain the said information, permission from the head of the family is required.”

  “Please generate a request to the head of the Lecleur family to provide me the necessary information.” I resorted to extreme measures. If Sophie was fulfilling the responsibilities of the mistress of the estate, it was reasonable to suppose that she was the one designated as the head of the family. I did not think that in view of recent events she would deny me that small service.

  “Your request has been sent… Response is received – request to grant information on the Lecleur estate to Paladin Yaropolk is denied. You have received three negative responses within 24 hours. Next request for accessing the Temple of Knowledge will be available tomorrow. Have a nice game!”

  Could it be that during the time I had been absent from the estate something had happened to Sophie? But what if I had been wrong, and the head of the family was, for example, Ervan? Well, no. His level was not high enough. However, it would be quite possible for Iven to be that person. So then the denial to provide access to Paladin Yaropolk would make sense: not the right background, not the right teacher, did not breathe the right way, and on top of all that did not demonstrate the right level of respect. Get out of here, stupid kid! Smart adults will figure it out without you around.

  “Response to your request came from the head of the Lecleur family too quickly. There is up to a 90 % probability that the head of the Lecleur family is Milord Iven. Possible reason for denying request is personal antipathy due to the insult you inflicted, your allegiance to Darkness and availability of Leguria. However, if one takes into account the level of interest of your suzerain in the chief fighter, one should review the motives for which your request was denied more carefully. It is possible that the initial assessment is flawed.”

  Thanks, captain Steve the Obvious! Immediately after I arrived at the estate I would try to work through Sophie until other options become available. With those thoughts I jumped into timelessness in order to prepare for the meeting with the mages. I needed scrolls, and the more the better.

  “So what do you think – why does Archibald still have only a Daro set? He is a creature from the previous era and known outside of the Earth game world, but the Viceroy has not issued Imperial armor to him. Why?” After I had spent a month outside of time, Steve’s personality matrix became more or less independent of my consciousness, and the assistant started coming up with his own hypotheses. In actuality they were my own thoughts. Only hidden deep in the subconscious; Steve extracted them into the light, but it was much more pleasant to discuss them with a smart and educated person. Me, that is. I just had to take care not to catch narcissism from that!

  Why so much interest in my teacher all of a sudden?” I asked in surprise. The assistant, however, was right – it was odd that Archibald was not shining in gold just like Iven.

  ”No reason,” Steve spread his arms. “I just noticed a strange thing and reported it.”

  “So how frequently are you now noticing these strange things?”

  “One of the latest was your energy accumulator. It was never taken back from you.”

  I put my hand on my thigh mechanically, where the crystal was installed. My old one, the one Gromana had given me way back, was sitting in the inventory while Gerhard’s present worked without fail and sucked in the emotions from the world around like a good old vacuum cleaner.

  “The crystal is 22.6632%, full, which makes it possible to use the Energy for a whole year without fear of depletion to zero. I suggest that you set up an automatic transfer of Energy right away.”

  I reviewed my video of the events in Gerhard’s office once again. What is accidental or deliberate?

  “Do you have any ideas as to why he would have done that?”

  “I think that the most appropriate answer would be ‘accidental deliberation’. Players like Gerhard van Brast have a predilection for multimove combinations.” I hated hearing this obvious response so much that I grimaced. You can’t deceive the subconscious.

  “There seem to be too many of those with a liking for multi-move games. Levard, who is temporarily out of play. The mages who killed immune Monstrichello. Incomprehensible and therefore strange Archibald and Sharda. Dolgunata who wants to play her own game. Gerhard who demands nothing at all. The gold-clad head of the Lecleur family with his entire brood. Dualistic Bernard with truthful Gromana, and finally, me. Eight different groups of beings interested in the pendant or restart! And me by my lonesome self! And nobody loves me!

  “You are not alone – there are two of us,” the assistant reassured me.

  “Just stop right there!” I warned Steve. “Let’s keep to respect and no corny stuff! Since there are two of us – any ideas about how to look for the pendant?”

  “You need to offer Sophie an exchange: sex for access to secret passages,” Steve suggested. “We’ll rescue Alard and use his tracker to look for the pendant. We’ll use Mizardine as bait for the traps. We don’t care about him and he needs to work for the service we provided. The search should be started from Elizabeth’s room; there must definitely be a secret passage there.”

  “Is there a chance to beat Dolgunata without Leguria?”

  “Still the same 26%. That’s the probability I assign to the chance of a meteorite falling on her head during the year that Dolgunata will need to destroy your protection based on the new crystal. There is a 100 chance that Archibald will let his student know about Leguria and the new
crystal, so she will be prepared, and I do not see any other way to win.”

  “You sure know how to cheer people up,” I sighed. “Let’s go back, I have to find out what the mages need.

  Our return to the Lecleur estate was uneventful. The portal brought me to within a few yards of the entrance to the castle, and I was thrown, as they say, “off the boat and into the party”. And what a party it was! There was no line of players any more, but the tent city was bustling with activity; besides, it was literally on fire. Everything was flying about: ricocheting lightning bolts, icicles, some black shadows; several tents were burning, someone was cursing someone else, amidst cries for help there were sounds of hysterical laughter, screeching and screams of pain. Normal working atmosphere of looting and lawlessness. Deciding that the mages were not going anywhere, I decided to go down to the frantic players. I wanted to see who started it all and punish someone already.

  “Group one – extinguish the fire! Group two – don’t let the enemy approach! Group three – attack!”

  What had seemed at first glance a chaotic frenzy among the players was an illusion. While at first I had thought that the mages have gone wild and I would need to punish some, now I saw them in a completely different light: they were trying to help common players. Ahean was standing on a cart and commanded the players quite skillfully; they, in turn, followed his commands without objection. Another thing that helped the mage in managing the groups is that each of them was headed by a member of his dark-robed class. About half of the players from the tent city were participating in the local event, the others were standing a short distance away and watching all this as if it were a show in the theatre. The main evildoers were necromancers and an army of zombies and skeletons they had called up.

  “Yaropolk, over here!” Ahean waved his hand on seeing me approach. I was pushed several times by running players, but I did not protest – they looked concentrated on the enemy. A new wave of the undead was coming down from the nearest hill while the tent city dwellers were still fighting the previous set. “Group one, aid with attack! Reserve, get ready, they are coming! Second, attack! Third group, defense! Come on guys, today we’ll do it!”

  “What have you got here?” I made way towards Ahean and climbed up onto the cart next to him.

  “We are, like, having fun, can’t you see?” The mage scowled, sending a fireball towards the zombies. The mage made sure to attack even as he was directing the defensive action. “Yesterday we spanked the mummers, now they, like, came for revenge. Even dragged their teacher along. There he is, standing on the hill, like, commanding and all. Looking how his brats are trying to retrieve their inglorious defeat. Dumbshit muttonheads.”

  “It seems as though you aren’t doing too well fighting them back.” Another tent was toppled by the zombies and immediately caught fire. The wave of the undead flowing down from the hill came up against the protective domes of the players and they started pushing to crush them, slowly but surely. They were beating the live players by sheer numbers. “Should you perhaps ask for help?”

  “Like, we are little lambs who can’t protect ourselves? Like, come save our asses from bites of old skull bones?”

  “Never mind‒ that was a dumb thing to say. Where’s Alard?”

  “Running around in group one. There, see, he’s just about to attack.” “Ahean pointed out a Paladin in shining armor. The orc was slashing about with his sword wildly, chopping off the oncoming zombies’ heads. “You are, like, here for a show, or, like, want to help?”

  “So, conversation later?” I asked the mage. That was not the reception I expected. Ahean nodded:

  “Like, sure.”

  “So then. You get experience from killing the undead?” The decision came instantly.

  “Sure you do! Let’s talk later; join group one – they are hit the hardest. Here, catch the invite.”

  I saw a huge sheet of frames in front of me. Green bars of protective domes were creeping down, and with scary regularity the players’ frames turned gray. Even the mighty flow of incoming experience could not make up for the fact that players were dying like flies. There were just about eighty defenders left from the original hundred and fifty. I quickly attached my artifact to my hand and rushed into the thick of the battle.

  “For Tores!” Alard’s battle cry dampened even the noise of the battle for a moment.

  “Rago rat kol!” Other players responded, and in that instant the Energy scale of all the fighters filled to 100%. The countdown timer to the next battle cry appeared: 10 minutes.

  “Yaropolk! Come on over here!” Alard was glad to see me. A few strokes with the sword, and a free space appeared around the orc. Zombies, even after they were cut in half, still tried to inflict at least some harm by scratching at the fighters’ shins, but the front line had the players who were wearing armor; even when their shields ran out of Energy they were protected to some extent.

  I rushed over to the orc and hit the nearest enemy square on the head. The spikes on my artifact pulverized the skull of the skeleton to smithereens, but that did not stop the monster. The headless creature did not seem to notice the disappearance of a vital part, kept stretching its bony paws towards me. They scraped on my shield helplessly, but the monster would not give up, continuing to draw down my Energy bit by bit. I was not concerned about this anymore, but for the majority of players this tactic of the skeletons was deadly.

  “You have to crush them totally!” Alard twisted his sword and hit the skeleton flat on, toppling it to the ground and breaking it in two halves. They kept twitching but were not really dangerous any more. “I am glad to see you here, brother! It will be a hot night tonight!”

  There was no time for us to talk. The enemies were charging as a solid crowd, ignoring losses among them. From time to time here and there cries of the players were heard. Players ran out of Energy and fell prey to zombies. I pulled out a stack of scrolls with the “Templar’s Blow” and threw it at the oncoming undead, making sure to spread the sheets over a wide area. Five seconds, and for a little while the pressure of the attackers was reduced. The explosion took out at least a third of the oncoming enemies, and there was not enough time for the next wave to reach us yet.

  “Great!” Alard grabbed an elixir out of his inventory and downed it in one gulp, replenishing his Energy. “We’ll live another minute! Prepare the next bomb!”

  “Second group to defense! Reserve, forward! New wave! Incoming!”

  Even though the scrolls were very effective, the results of using them were not too impressive. I was able to clear out a space only in front of the orc and myself, while the battle in the other parts of our line was just as fierce as before. I threw some more scrolls, now trying to throw them not just forward, but as far to the side as possible in order to help my neighbors. Activation, and a couple of seconds of rest again. However, this time one of our own was caught by friendly fire: a scroll was thrown at him by a blast of wind. The hapless guy’s protection crumbled and he was sent to respawn; meanwhile my Darkness bar jumped by an entire percent. The Game considered that I had done it from malicious intent. It was hard to stand, our feet slipping in the remains of zombies and skeletons; we had to take a few steps back. Several more tents went up in flames, burning brightly. Ahean immediately sent some players to put them out. The Energy that the fire stripped from the players’ shields was much needed elsewhere.

  I threw the scrolls back into inventory and returned to battle. Once I started using the “Templar’s Blow”, it made things easier: even a light touch of the spikes with the ability activated tore the opponent into shreds, showering us either with bits of quivering flesh or bones. The new wave literally crushed the remnants of the previous one and attacked us with the force of a tsunami.

  “First group, retreat! Second, defense! Third, attack! Reserve, retreat! Replenish resources!”

  Ahean was not going to surrender to the mercy of the outnumbering forces; he continued commanding his troops and se
nding fireballs at the enemy. I took in the situation: only about twenty players were still alive. Only Alard and I were still standing from the first group, everyone else was taking a break, to be printed again in an hour by the 3D printers of the Game.

  “Retreat!” I ordered the orc as I crushed yet another zombie to shreds. On top of the hill they were preparing to send the next wave at us, and that was guaranteed to sweep us over. Unless we crushed those preparations in the bud, which is what I was planning to do.

  “I will not abandon a brother!” The mind of a true Paladin could not grasp the idea of abandoning a comrade alone in the battlefield. With a swing of his sword the orc devastated a few more skulls, stomping on the nearest one for good measure. “Retreat, I’ll cover you!”

  “Do whatever you want!” I growled, and rushed forward. A crowd of hungry undead bowled me over at once, toppling me to the ground.

  “I’ll help!” Alard shouted. He dashed after me and his frame turned grey. The orc departed for Zagransh. I was not going to cry about my partner – Alard was not a level one player; besides, during the battle he must have gained at least three more, so he’d come out of this better off than before in any case. Bones and crooked fingers scraped on my protective shell, vainly trying to piece it, so I was relatively safe. However, the crowd did the most important thing: they pushed me down with their sheer mass, preventing me from moving forward. I did not have time to lie around contemplating the meaning of life, so I extracted some scrolls and activated them. A shower of bones and rotten flesh covered the ground, removing the weight from me, so I rushed forward, only to be buried under the next wave of the undead. Scrolls, raining bones, dash, and the next wave of those craving my life. Scrolls, raining bones…