It took me twenty dashes to come through the attacking wave. No one bothered to turn back to catch me: a new army was about to rise on top of the hill. The necromancers must have decided that one player would not do much harm, sending their puppets on to crush whoever still resisted. Seven players, including Ahean. Not too many! Jumping to my feet I ran up the hill and literally ran headfirst into the protective dome of the necromancers, defending them from uninvited visitors. I heard extremely nasty laughter, as if they were mocking me, on top of everything else! The ground bubbled like boiling water, and the new army started climbing out from under it. That was what was supposed to completely bury the entire tent city with all of its inhabitants. I had no time to try and overcome their shields, so I inhaled deeply and did what I had to do.
I started a counter-attack.
My consciousness faded in Leguria. I looked around and flicked my tongue rapaciously: from the castle I could smell such tasty fear and desperation that I floated in that direction, but stopped hard against a wall. I was just a couple of dozen steps short of catching the trembling food and enjoying its emotions. Roaring bitterly – that actually made the emotions tastier – I rushed back. The sounds of my indignation made the sweet fear bloom there too. I needed to check it out.
There was something stumbling under my tentacles – moving, but totally unattractive. It tried to stop me, grabbed the tentacles it was even biting, so I was a little delayed tearing that something to pieces. Totally tasteless, as though it was not even alive. I let out another long roar and cheered up: the aroma of fear blossomed right under my nose. I reached for it, but encountered another obstacle. One more wall? I was so unlucky! My belly started rumbling and my thirst became unbearable. Unless I drink someone pretty soon, a horrible thing will happen. I will die! Upset, I pushed on the wall with all my might, trying to crush it and get to the tasty fear. Blow, and another, and another…
“Noooooo!” the food screeched, once I plopped right on top of it. The wall disappeared and I fell right into the thick of the sweet smells. Letting out another scream, I licked my chops again: five of the beings present emanated the tasty emotions of fear. Sticking my tentacles into the ears of the first dish, reaching the brain and causing the maximum amount of pain possible, I reached for the others. My thirst will be quenched!
I was not able to satiate myself. What is five puny bodies? I shouted once again, trying to see if there was any more tasty food in the vicinity, when I came up on an unfamiliar note. Tart, a little bitter with a slight nuance of disgust. Memory brought forth the name of this dish: “indifference”. Someone could not care less about my presence, making me grimace. The taste of that emotion was quite unpleasant. Not wanting to lose time, I scanned the area I could cover, but did not find anything else other than the unattractive moving mass. Crushing it just out of spite so that it would not get underfoot, I stopped in place. There was nothing more to eat. My mission was complete.
My consciousness returned, and the memory of five necromancers appeared in front of my eyes. I bent over, retching, but then straightened out again. I had taken that step knowing what I was in for, so no need to demonstrate my weakness.
“Dark one.” A hoarse voice broke the silence surrounding me. The words sounded forced, as if it was hard for the creature to speak. I turned around and in the center of the chaos that I had wreaked saw a grey-haired skinny necromancer. It was definitely not a human being, even though I could not identify the race. The dry mummy somehow clutching on to this world could have belonged to anybody. I swallowed, and suppressing a new spasm, chased away the vision of Leguria and walked to the surviving opponent. Zombies and skeletons covered the ground in dead heaps, so during the next few minutes nothing was threatening the three remaining defenders of the tent city.
“Bernard’s slave.” The necromancer’s eyes slid across the emblem and he rasped: “I see. We’ll return tomorrow. Prepared. I had not expected Leguria. It’s pretty.”
“What is all that for?” I looked around and stepped out of the pile of remains of what used to be alive at some point. After I was Leguria such trifles as blobs of flesh on my boots did not bother me anymore; all I felt was a vague disgust.
“Training. Everyone needs training. Expect us tomorrow. I’ll show the young ones how to hide emotions.”
The necromancer waved his hand in the air and a portal appeared next to him. I hemmed – seems like whoever this creature was that visited us was not so simple. His strength level was comparable to that of Gerhard, the Head of Paladins.
“I killed your twits, so I deserve answers!” I shouted before the old man could disappear. He turned around:
“Death. That’s all you deserve. We’ll come back tomorrow. Expect us. The training must go on.”
The portal shut with a clap and immediately all the conjured zombies and skeletons turned to ashes. The hill and tent city now looked like Pompeii after the eruption of Vesuvius. Ashes everywhere, ruins and fires; all that was missing was wailing mothers and marauders. Actually, I was wrong about the latter: the burnt tents were already being looted.
“So it goes every night,” Ahean grinned, climbing down from the cart. The left side of his robe was torn and I could see bleeding wounds through the holes. I offered him an elves’ ointment almost automatically. “Thanks, I got it. Seven levels, congratulations. I see you did quite well in the last thirty minutes. That beast – was that yours?”
“It was,” I nodded without going into detail. “You wanted to talk. What about?”
“You want to talk about it right here?”
“Why not?” We dropped to the ground, leaning our backs against the cart. I could not say that I was exhausted – I was overflowing with Energy. But physically I was quite tired. The day had been too long, and it had ended too abruptly. I wanted to sleep. Punishing anyone was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d deal with the necromancers tomorrow.
“So here is fine too.” Ahean rummaged through his inventory and extracted a small jewel box. “That’s for you. A present from Devir for successful completion of the Academy and the incident afterwards.”
“I like presents,” I grinned, in no hurry to accept the gift. “Go ahead, open it.”
“If he had wanted to kill you, he would have done it already. Quite a while ago, too.” Ahean did not pretend to be frustrated. The mage put the box in his lap and lifted the lid. “Boom!”
The shout was so sudden that I staggered back, falling over. Ahean laughed out loud.
“Sorry, I just could not resist it. You had such a funny face as you were looking at… Anyway, doesn’t matter. So, in here there’s a pair of earrings and… And that’s it, nothing more. Hm. That’s a very strange present coming from my teacher. Is that some kind of a hint? Wait, let me check… No, just ordinary earrings.”
Two earrings settled in my palm. Ahean created a small ball of light to look at them better, and then Steve started waving his hands desperately, trying to attract my attention. Even though there was no need: my memory of “The Great Warrior” painting was quite clear.
Devir's present to me was the lost earrings of the Lecleurs.
Chapter Seven. “Shazal” Treatise
“MIZARDINE, YOUR TASK will be the most important one.” I plopped a stack of scrolls with the “Templar’s Blow” on the table. “You are the only one who can save us today. Do you know how to dig?”
The hunter looked from the scrolls to me in bewilderment, not understanding my drift.
“The Necromancers will return in the evening in force, and mad to boot. I have found out that they always appear on the hill. Yesterday the big guys scattered everybody, and only after that did they let loose their dead troops. Most likely the same thing will happen today. From the hill it’s the simplest path to send the undead to the tent city. So let’s prepare a “Tsar Bomba” for them.
Now Alard, who had come back at dawn, stared at me questioningly as well. Finding out about the inglorious demise of the necroma
ncers, the orc had cheered up considerably, and was helping me in every way to plan the destruction of the enemy. Even though I found it difficult to consider propositions along the lines of “let’s meet the enemies head on and kill them honorably”, phrased in various ways, to be help.
In a few words I described the explosion of the most powerful bomb in the entire history of humanity. Alard misunderstood my idea, furrowed his brow and objected:
“This explosion will destroy everything. The necromancers, us and the estate. There is no honor in such victory.”
“I agree! The victory that is won easily is not worth much,” I grinned. “And that’s why we’ll do something completely different. So, Mizardine, do you know how to dig?”
The hunter nodded reluctantly.
“Great! Take this shovel, take the scrolls and get yourself to the hill. Bury the scrolls, all of them, near the area where the necromancers appear, within a meter of each other, and conceal the trap. The whole hill must be covered in these little presents! Thinking about returning, blasted boneheads… Now do you understand?”
The hunter beamed, grabbed his work tools and rushed to fulfill my directive.
“So he did turn out to be useful after all.” I looked after Mizardine and turned to Alard. “Wait for me here, and set up your tracker. We’ll start the search today.”
“Did you find something?” The orc drew himself up.
“I don’t know yet,” I said contemplatively, went out into the hallway and caught a servant who was running by.
“Take me to Madame Sophie. I have an appointment.”
In a couple of minutes I was standing in the reception hall, where yet another party was in full swing. Ervan was true to himself, having brought in the players in the morning. Sophie was appearing here and there among the guests, settling minor troubles and preventing catastrophes.
“Monsieur Yaropolk, I am not…” the hostess started fearfully as soon as she saw me next to her.
“Here you are, you blackguard!” Enraged, Ervan jumped out of nowhere instantly between Sophie and me like a jack-in-a-box. He did not even let his wife finish the sentence. Pointing his finger at me, he came so close that I could feel the stench of his breath. An eerie silence fell over the hall. “Paladin! You have dared to tarnish my wife's honor!”
His small bovine eyes betrayed an irresistible urge to tear me into small pieces and throw them out the door of the estate. I had a feeling that Sleevan had had a hand in all this. I would not be surprised to discover that this was his expression of “gratitude” for the incident in the basement.
“Ervan, I beg you!” Sophie continually hung on the thug’s arm, trying to slow him down. Seeing that she was failing, she left her futile attempts and cried out: “Monsieur Yaropolk, I beg you! Run!”
I hesitated just for a moment or two. I was not afraid of having to battle Ervan openly. A common minion would not be able to inflict any harm on a “charged” player with a limitless supply of Energy. One “Templar’s Blow” from me would kill Ervan quite dead, while I would have a chance to see for myself that the castle was very reliably protected and that it dutifully defended its residents against aggressive guests. This was not a suitable turn of events for me.
Nodding to trembling Sophie, I activated invisibility, which I had been neglecting. Of course, it sucked Energy like a vacuum cleaner, but with my crystal I could afford to be a little profligate.
“Where is he?!” Ervan blinked in surprise, staring at the place where I had been standing just a moment before.
“I hasten to inform you that invisibility will not save you from the video surveillance cameras, which operate in the magical range as well.” Steve reminded me that not everything in this world was as fine and dandy as I would like to have it.
“A granis to whoever drags Yaropolk to me!” Ervan was really going apeshit.
I scowled. These pissants didn’t need to bother dreaming of getting a granis for nothing! To see a player under invisibility one had to have experience and a high level like Zangar. I doubted there was anyone here who qualified. Dolgunata did not count: too petty for her. Nata preferred to make her own mischief, without being told what to do.
Stepping quietly, I retreated behind the nearest column near the wall to wait out the ensuing ruckus. Some of the players, in a drunken frenzy, rushed off right away to try and catch me in the hallways and rooms. Some smarter ones suggested fishing nets, and having gathered some followers, ran off to look for the wherewithal. The rest avidly searched for me under the tables, behind curtains and even in the servant girls’ cleavages. Ervan, sporting yet another glass of wine, swayed in the center of the hall awaiting some results.
Making sure I could move around the hall without fear of running into someone in the crowd, I sneaked up on Sophie. The poor girl was wailing like a banshee in the nearest chair
I caught a pause between her sobs and whispered right into her ear, “We need to talk, alone.”
Frightened, the lady hiccupped loudly and quite unfashionably.
“Just to talk‒ nothing else.”
Her unexpected faux pas brought Lady Lecleur to her senses, and she stopped crying. Covering her mouth with a handkerchief she looked around slowly. To an observer it may have seemed that the lady just wanted to make sure that her slip had gone unnoticed, but in fact Lady Lecleur was scanning the players still in the hall. Noting the most sober ones, Sophie cried out loudly, attracting attention to herself, and waved her hand towards the passage furthest away from us:
“Quick, I have seen the scoundrel! Ervan, he ran towards the greenhouse!” The lady turned to her spouse: “You must catch him!”
“Freeze!” Ervan roared, and rushed in the indicated direction. “I’ll tear him up and throw him out! Everyone follow me!”
A crowd of players rushed after the thug as one man. Lust for money was working.
“I feel ill. I’ll go check on my mother,” Sophie said to distract chance observers, rose from the armchair and started in the direction opposite from where the crowd had rushed. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I followed her, close on her heels. We passed through several hallways and stopped at a door.
“Lecleur family heir to see Lady Elizabeth,” Sophie said seemingly to no one.
Suddenly the statue to the right of the door came to life and said:
“Right to visit by heir is confirmed! Access authorized for one person!”
“Lecleur family heir with a guest,” Sophie hastily corrected her inquiry, embarrassed. “Paladin Yaropolk is under my protection and should be near me!”
The statue kept silent for a few moments, then confirmed the corrected inquiry:
“Access authorized for two persons!” The internal door mechanism came into motion, smoothly opening the door panels.
“I hope you have something to say,” the lady sighed, and entered the room. I followed her.
Elizabeth’s private rooms did not bear even a hint of ostentatious luxury. There was a simple double bed with an old lady sleeping securely in it, a couple of old armchairs, an armoire and a bedside table. Nothing extra.
Except for Sleevan.
When we appeared, the artful herald was sitting peacefully by the bedside and holding lady Elizabeth’s hand. As soon as Sophie saw him, the gates opened for a new waterfall of tears and moans. Sleevan rushed to the lady at once:
“Sophie, what happened? It’s too early for your shift. Why are you in such a state?” The herald worried sincerely about the scion of the Lecleur family. His ministrations made Sophie cry so hard she could not say a word. Watching this scene made me feel uncomfortable and out of place. Yet I was not going to stay invisible. Dropping the concealment, I coughed a couple of times, attracting attention. Sleevan turned to me harshly and his face contorted in an evil grimace:
“What are you doing here?! Sophie’s honor was not enough for you? In addition you forced her to bring you here? The guards will throw you out of the estate and even Berna
rd won’t help you!” Sleevan rushed towards the door but Sophie stopped him.
“No, Sleevan. He didn’t make me! I did it myself! Ervan…” another bout of weeping cut short her explanations at the most interesting point, and I said loudly, wanting to clarify the misunderstanding as quickly as possible:
“Lady Sophie, please accept my apologies for a careless gesture. I did not know of its meaning, and I was not in any way planning, nor do I plan in the future, to cast any aspersions on your honor. I simply wanted to protect you from the fall. May the Game be my witness!”
Snow-white light washed over me, head to toe, and while the herald’s reaction was to be expected, Sophie’s response was rather off the wall, as far as I could tell. Her hysterics reached a crescendo. I was not the only one bewildered by that reaction. Sleevan brought Sophie to a chair, sat her down and carefully presented a glass of water, trying to find out in a whisper what the problem was. In response I heard disjointed fragments like “I had hoped so much”, “It could have worked”, “You know what grandfather is like.” At last the herald seemed to have worked it out for himself and exclaimed reproachfully:
“Sophie, are you really capable of such a thing?!” The lady only wept harder.
At this point my self-restraint snapped with a bang, and I barked:
“Quiet, both of you!” Sophie was so startled she jumped in her chair and, thank the Game, stopped wailing. But my joy was premature. I must have scared the lady so much, she started hiccupping. I let her be, and addressed Sleevan, calmly this time:
“Now please explain what happened! Of course, I am flattered by Lady Sophie’s reaction, but really, I am not so handsome that she should cry her eyes out over this!”
The herald paused, but Sophie, who was still hiccupping, pulled on his sleeve to attract his attention, and nodded.
“Sophie applied to Mr. Bernard for a divorce without the knowledge of the Head of the family. Now her petition is being reviewed, but if Iven were to find out about it, he would rescind it as the Head of the family. He has forbidden Sophie from divorcing. She was hoping for your help. And… was glad when you showed an interest in her.”
The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 21
