My comm did not work, so I was not able to call Dolgunata and share the information. Most likely the teleports were blocked as well; besides, I had run out of scrolls. In one of the passages I saw Mizardine floating in midair. The hunter had completed his task of installing the scrolls and returned to the estate to report the good news. The guy ran into bad luck, but I still could do something. There was no honor in letting this player become “food” for the truly Dark one. Mizardine would not be able to withstand that. I took out my draftsman’s kit and with habitual movements created three Templar’s Blow scrolls, attached them to a broken cornice nearby and popped the force shield that surrounded the player. My idea was simple: it would not be a good idea to kill him by hand. Archibald, for example, did not do it. So I decided not to run the risk either. However, inanimate means worked quite well to accomplish the task; here everything depended on draftsmanship and the power of the explosion. Three scrolls did the job: The hunter’s head turned into a bloody mess held in place only by the force field; in a mere ten seconds Mizardine disappeared from the estate. First one gone.
Killing the hunter defined my subsequent path towards the exit. I did not touch NPCs. They were the sacrifice that had to be offered to the Game. However, I did not pass a single player, exploding one head after another. My way towards the exit became a lot slower, but no one had imposed any time restrictions on me. I was only told to go outside. And I was working on that.
Half an hour later I actually did reach the exit. The gate stood wide open, revealing the line of bewildered players and a group of guards unable to return to the estate because of the force shield. I came right to the edge without crossing it. Those outside did not react in any way to my approach. The dome protected everything that was going on inside from the curious eyes. What amazed me more, however, was that no one could feel my dark aura that was no longer concealed by anything. My complete invisibility provided certain advantages. If I were a believer I could have thought that I had earned that advantage by showing mercy recently to Mizardine and other players whom I had saved.
They were waiting for me: a crowd of necromancers led by Don Fabio was occupying their favorite hill, and methodically infused the space around them with negative emotions. The players were gathering resistance troops from those who wanted to gain additional experience, but in this case it was clearly an uneven confrontation. Don Fabio was creating zombies himself, which made them practically invulnerable to new players. The battlefield looked depressingly like the massacre of the innocents.
Sighing sadly I turned the useless comm in my hands. It was useless not because the dome blocked the connection, but because there was no one I could connect to. My contact list was so short that that the only contact available was now trying to dispel boredom by running in the battlefield among the players trying to defend themselves against the necromancers, and did not have time to talk. Besides, anything I could tell Dolgunata could wait till a better time.
“What shall we do?” I look at my subconscious questioningly. Steve clearly had not expected such a question from me. He scratched first the back of his head and then his chin; the assistant suggested:
“We go to Don Fabio, call Gerhard, convey the information and wait till he frees us.
“Are you sure that someone will set us free? I am not. I can always convey the information later. That can wait; however, surrendering to Don Fabio of our own accord is not prudent.”
“So then we come out, take a look around, and set out to help those fighting against Don Fabio. Or are we in no hurry to go out?”
Outside of the protective dome three necromancers appeared in addition to the players and NPCs. They were just standing calmly and staring at the battle. Apparently Don Fabio had decided to send an escort for my humble self.
“ Steve, we will come out, or, rather, we will run out as fast as we can, but under cover. On the count of five. But first find me the number for the Paladin Head’s office; I will put it in my comm.”
I prepared the number and expected that the cover would last long enough to make the call and say a couple of phrases. My backup detonator settled in my hand. I stroked the button carefully. I was counting down moments till time X while making sure to fix in my mind the action positions of all the important parties in the battle.
One: Don Fabio was completing his ritual. There should not be enough time for him to finish; that was good. Two: A fresh wave of zombies swept the camp defenders and slowed down at the camps, turning colored tents into messy rags. Three: A beautiful panther, roaring gleefully, rushed into the nearest crowd of skeletons. As a true predator she did not give those bones any chance. Four: Ahean, Devir’s student, was showing that the effort expended on his training had not been wasted‒ he cut down enhanced zombies in droves around the druid. That was it. There was no one else worth looking at. Five!
Mizardine had completed his task perfectly. The explosion on top of the hill was so powerful that remnants of zombies and the skeletons were scattered as far as the gate of the estate. The three necromancers instinctively covered their heads with their hands, forgetting that they actually had their shields activated. At that moment I rushed out from under the dome, elated by the success of my trick and the six additional levels I gained from it. My enemies were disoriented and partially disabled. Who suffered more, zombies or necromancers, did not really matter. The thrill of battle and action made my blood rush in my veins.
I pushed the call button and whapped the nearest necromancer so hard I sent him flying. I easily knocked him over together with some players standing behind him. Perhaps they were expecting me, but not at this speed. Without slowing down I rushed towards the hill as fast as my legs could carry me. I did not have much lead, or else the necromancers were too quick. I heard my defense squeak as it dropped a few points from a blow on my back. I realized that each second might be my last one, and listened to the line ring, silently hurrying the answering machine or whatever being on the other end, even though it was pointless There!
“Citadel of the Pala…” I heard the start of the sentence and interrupted it harshly:
“This is Yaropolk! Lumpen is reborn!” Each phrase was an effort. I had to run, breathe and talk. Which is kind of impossible to do well. “He got Iven and Archibald! Gerhard, do something!”
I almost whispered the last words, knowing that I had fulfilled my duty. I was not sure I heard any response; blood was ringing in my ears. The line disconnected.
I was aiming for the bottom of the hill, dodging between the heedless players. Those who were not quick enough ended up paying for it with their lives, as they were directly in the trajectory of the necromancers’ attack. My pursuers just blew up everyone in their way. This was fine with me, but only to a point. There were soon no more players, and the hill had not even begun. I had to strive harder if I wanted to get away from them and reach my goal first. Once the necromancers understood in which direction I was running, they stopped shooting at me. If a rabbit is hurrying towards the python to be eaten, why interfere? And I was making a beeline towards Don Fabio. I did not know how many students he had brought with him, but now, after the explosion, he was standing proudly alone on top of the burnt hill, his arms crossed on his chest. There were no students, no zombies, nor skeletons. I could not see Dolgunata or Ahean either. I supposed that they might have been caught in the explosion as well and thought that perhaps that actually was for the better.
“I am just about tired of waiting, Dark one! The master said to take care of you.” The necromancer screeched once I approached him. The three that had been chasing me stopped a dozen yards away. Don Fabio’s hands started turning dark. Before that “care” took on any concrete form, I caught my breath and used the only trump I had.
“All the way!” The sky settled on my shoulders, bringing ravenous hunger. Leguria was coming towards me.
Each time the transformation was easier. It was the result of experience and me becoming at peace with the essence of
that spell. Internally I forced myself to look at Leguria as an inalienable part of myself. Now my shout meant hunger, anticipation and – no point concealing it – enjoyment of my power.
Three vessels who had been incautious enough to stay nearby were filled to the brim with fear – sweet, but quite ordinary. I wound my tentacles around the vessels and realized that I was trembling with the knowledge of how much pleasure eating would bring. Previously I had just satisfied the unbearable hunger; all I wanted was for it to stop torturing me. I ate quickly, neglecting the last bits of the emotions on the bottoms of the vessels, hurrying from each to the next one. Now I knew with certainty that I would enjoy them to the last drop. Today my human side lost its right to interfere with my hunting. A little intuition, and three bland remnants bloomed with piquant notes of terror, agony and madness. Like a true gourmet, I analyzed the components of the food, noting which flavor I liked best. As I was finishing with the last one I noticed another smell. But as I tasted the air, a hope for new pleasure faded: I encountered the disgusting smell and taste of “indifference”. It was as If I had been enjoying exquisite truffles and suddenly came across a stinky old sock. So the reaction was not unexpected: I drew back from the source of the stench to make sure that the air around me would have no trace of that nasty stuff.
Exploring the rest of the territory accessible to me brought further disappointment: there was no more food. I could feel a few potential sources outside of that area, but they were reacting to my call far too slowly or resisted, fanning my anger. Just wait, I will show you the price of resistance! Closer! Faster! Or else my hunger will kill me first. Despair washed over me: they were approaching too slowly. I did not want to die. I decided to return to the “indifference” and try that. I had to fight myself to approach that stinky emotion. Disgust was fighting bitterly against the growing hunger, which was gnawing at me from the inside. Another step, and a wave of contentment washed over me. I even plopped down onto the ground and pulled all the tentacles underneath myself. Hunger and thirst were not tormenting me any more, the smell of indifference disappeared as well, and I calmed down. Calmness. Joy. Sleep. Apparently sleep was a pleasure as well. A palm touched my head and I was immersed in a sea of happiness, as if, after wandering for a long time, I had returned home to loving parents. I craned my neck and raised my head to look in the eye of the person whom I could surely call “father”. The one who created me.
“Sleep, my boy,” I heard the endearing voice and Leguria disappeared, yielding its place in the game world to Paladin Yaropolk. The memory of the necromancers’ death brought nothing other than moral satisfaction with a job well done. I felt myself once again and jumped to my feet. A powerful whirlwind of True Darkness was raging all around. Horrible shadows approached trying to scare me with maws of sharp teeth, then flew off again without doing me any harm. The reason for that was a protective sphere of unknown origin. It easily reflected all of it: the dark lightnings, the superheated lava which lapped at my little island of tranquility. I touched the dome from the inside and felt nothing other than cool glass and the slight tingling of magic.
Darkness and raging elements obscured the view, but I was able to see the culprit of this mayhem: a huge skeleton with xenon lights in his empty eyeholes directed the chaos like an orchestra. In his spread hands he was holding a twisted staff from which dark lightning bolts were flying in the direction of the other warrior. The monster’s opponent ignored both this madness and the head-on attack, inexorably shortening the distance between them. There was no mystery. I recognized this player even from the back. His flaming sword blazing, Gerhard van Brast, head of the Paladins of Earth, was advancing confidently towards the skeleton. He was the one that had granted me protection. He was the one who had created Leguria.
“I gave you a chance to leave.” The Paladin’s calm voice came though the howl of the whirlwind.
“Leave? I am not a rat to run away.” The skeleton croaked in Fabio’s voice, and attempted to attack Gerhard once again, but the latter just waved him off. The strength of the Head was formidable. He easily blocked the necromancer at a distance. “Our time has come! The Teacher is reborn!”
“You are not a rat, Fabio. You are stupid. Lumpen is only reborn to die again‒ forever this time. His time is up, and you have wasted yours.”
Realizing that he had nothing to counter Gerhard, Fabio tried to kill himself, but Gerhard prevented him from doing that as well. Something that resembled a bird flew off the Paladin’s hands, and the necromancer froze in place like a wax doll. The chaos around us stopped immediately, and my protective dome disappeared.
“Yaropolk, deal with the necromancers.” Gerhard assessed the situation and issued an order. A portal opened next to the hill, then another, then a third, and necromancers appeared out of them. “Dolgunata will help you. Don’t count on the mage, Devir and his student are playing for themselves.
“Devir plays for Bernard.” I corrected Gerhard, but he just shrugged in response. This could equally easily signify surprise, skepticism or simply indifference. But I decided not to risk guessing and just share my information. After all, the Head was not obligated to tell me anything, whether he knew or not. “Bernard is within the estate.”
Again a brief nod, which I considered to be acknowledgement. A portal opened next to the Head and a gray-haired priest glided out of it, too slowly for the war situation. With a gesture he blessed the space around him. Apparently his own grandeur was what concerned him first and foremost. As if punished for irreverent thoughts, I fell on the ground writhing in terrible pain. The last hours must have killed part of my brain: instead of rapidly running away from a priest of Light I was thinking about his grandness. Idiot. I heard Gerhard’s voice through the humming in my ears:
“I look forward to seeing you in the Citadel tomorrow. You will be learning to block impacts from a Light source and hide your Dark aura,” Gerhard explained, restoring the same dome around me. Steve analyzed it and stated without hesitation that it would be the next ability I must study. The dome of absolute protection is a great thing. Having made sure that I revived, Gerhard returned to the priest. There was nothing I could do other than stare at them consulting, and bite my lips in astonishment. I recognized the regal white-haired man to be none other than the Pope. What a development! My surprise was exacerbated by the fact that the old man was an elf. Several more portals opened and we were joined by a monk-elf Dalai Lama, a human cleric – the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church‒ and someone from a class I did not know, but also representing some church. Gerhard greeted the players who came at his call, and pointed at the castle:
“Lumpen is reborn. The entire estate is under his control; he has already captured Iven and Archibald. There are about a hundred living beings in the castle, so he has enough Energy.”
“Have you informed the Coordinator?” The monk asked. “When is he expected? I consider it unfeasible to move forward without his support.”
“Bernard is already within. The reason for which he had not informed us of the rebirth is unknown. But let’s consider the worst: he is on Lumpen’s side. There are grounds to suspect that.”
“Then let’s hurry. My troop will be here in a minute.” The priest pointed at the necromancers, who kept arriving. “I consider it’s the right time to announce the total Game mobilization. The invasion must be stopped.”
“This is excessive." Gerhard disagreed. “I sent out notifications to all the Heads, they promised to immediately send backup from their operative special forces teams. The rest are at the ready, unofficially. Let’s not arouse panic so far. If there are no more questions, let’s get going. Every second counts. Dolgunata, you coordinate activities outside the estate walls.”
The four Heads teleported to the entrance of the estate, destroying one of the necromancers’ portals along the way. Gerhard opened a passage in the protective dome, and I felt proud for my class. It’s nice when your Head is super tough! All four quickly disappeared within
, not bothering any more about how grand they looked, picking up the hems of their robes to climb over the barrier.
Bored from enforced idleness, I could do nothing other than longingly look at another attempt of the minor necromancers to liberate the statue of Don Fabio, standing lonely on the top of the hill. One could praise them for determination and loyalty to their teacher. Good qualities in a not so good class.
“Oh: my congratulations! You have tickets in the front row? Or is this the VIP box?" I heard the druid’s mocking voice. The busybody bitch needed no answer. She quickly ran up to Don Fabio – several warriors from the new arrivals covered her – hugged the statue with one hand, and with the second one quickly activated a teleporting scroll. An instant, and the scream of necromancers left with nothing carried across the clearing. Eager to vent their frustration, they switched to me, madly attacking the dome from all sides. The shield wobbled and neutralized all attempts to inflict any damage to me. This only egged the necromancers on, and they, unable to curb their blind rage, rushed at my dome with their bare hands. I was fed up to no end just having to observe all of that, so I hit the nearest one straight in the jaw through the dome. The shield stayed in place and the necromancer sprawled on it and jerked his head from the unexpected hit. There was not enough damage to break through his protection, but I had time: there was nowhere for him to go. His own guys pressed him to my dome hard. A blow. And another, and another. With a disgusting squelch the necromancer turned into black slime. It spread on the surface of my dome and prevented other necromancers from touching it. They cursed and looked for clean areas, apparently worried about the damage, since the substance easily penetrated their protective shields. Another thing I need to add to my “must have” list: a nasty surprise for my enemies after I am killed. Given my current level, the main problem for the training would be time, because with the constraint of one ability per week it would take me forever to learn.
The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 36
