The Curse of Rion Castle (The Neuro Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Andrei Livadny

  Yorm nodded. "The treasure!" he suddenly perked up, remembering. "We must go and look!"

  It appeared like our unintended but deadly foray was nearing a happy end.

  Three more messages appeared in my interface,

  Quest alert: Survival. Quest completed!

  You've received a new level!

  Quest alert: Old Friend. Quest completed!

  * * *

  WE TOOK a short rocky tunnel to the cave where we had discovered Archibald to begin with.

  The slab of stone he'd been hacking at lay shifted to one side. A weak light escaped from within.

  Enea and I walked down the stairs first, stopping in the doorway of what appeared to be a rather small room.

  A library.

  There were hundreds of ancient books here. That's what the treasure was.

  Before leaving, the Founders had used the Temple of Oblivion as a secret stash for their knowledge.

  I was probably the only person here who realized the true value of the yellowed manuscripts. The others looked pretty disappointed, even Sciatant.

  I took one of the books in my hands, brushed off the centuries-old dust and began leafing through it.

  All the entries in it were made in the Founders' language. I couldn't read them.

  But if Scorp could do it, so could I.

  I closed the book and took a look around the room. Aha. On one of the desks I saw several sheets of parchment, a quill and an inkwell. These must have belonged to Scorp. He must have tried to decipher the ancient writings, in which case...

  Enea walked over to me and peered over my shoulder. "What's this you've found now? You're all shaky again. Are you cold?"

  "This is the Founders' alphabet," I whispered, struggling to conceal my agitation so as not to attract Sciatant's attention.

  "And what are those marks next to the letters?"

  "I think it's their phonetic transcription."

  "You're right," she admitted. "Did the wizard do that?"

  "I don't think so. Look, the ink is the same color. The notes are just as ancient!"

  "Wait up. Look, there're more parchments here. A whole stack of them! Look at these words — some of them are already translated! Oh, Alex. This is a dictionary. It's not complete but still..."

  Quest update alert: The Mystery of The Ancient Manuscripts!

  Using the words you already know, enter them into the dictionary, then try to translate several books, filling in the blanks by guessing the meaning of the missing words.

  Chapter Nine

  The Crystal Sphere

  Rion Castle

  WE GOT BACK to Rion late the following night.

  Lethmiel had been at his wits' ends, desperate to hear from us. I gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder, then told him about the Temple of Oblivion, explaining the different time flow phenomenon.

  "Thank you so much for the Forest Nymph buff," Enea gave the old Elf a peck on the cheek. "There was a moment when it actually saved us all!"

  "You're worthy of it, my lady," he replied, impassively courteous.

  "I'd like you to meet Archibald," I motioned the warrior to approach. "I just hope he decides to join us."

  Iskandar and Rodrigo walked over to us. "We most certainly will," both said unhesitantly. "It would have been stupid to have said 'no' after everything we'd just seen. When and where do we swear in?"

  "We're not in a hurry," I said. "Tomorrow we have a trading expedition to see some dwarves. When we have enough new members, then we'll hold the ceremony. I'd like you to join in in the screening of some of the applicants: all the monks, wizards, clerics and sorcerers. Once Sciatant makes his footage public, we can expect a new wave of interest in us. You think you can do that?"

  Both looked happy with the task. "Absolutely!"

  "Then you should begin interviewing new applicants starting tomorrow morning."

  We had so many things that demanded immediate attention!

  "Archibald, I'd like you to stay," I said. "Enea and I would like to ask you to head up the clan's combat section. You could start screening all the warrior applicants."

  "What, just like that?"

  "We don't have much time. You understand, don't you, that we need to capitalize on all the hype. But we can't just accept all and sundry."

  He nodded. "Very well. I could stay for a bit, I suppose. I've done this kind of thing before. I can start tomorrow morning. You don't have a room, by any chance, where I could leave my avatar? I have to log out now. I didn't sleep at all last night."

  "Lethmiel will show you your room."

  The Elf promptly found him some lodgings but wasn't in a hurry to take him there. He lingered expectantly nearby.

  "Any news?" I asked him.

  "The crystal we built is fully charged. The portal's activated. I didn't dare test it on my own. But you're tired now. Should we leave it till morning?"

  "No, let's do it now."

  Enea whispered something to her pet. Reluctantly Alpha climbed inside her hood to sulk. Our brave mantis was grounded: his fearless attack on a wizard ninety levels higher than his own could have very easily gotten him killed.

  I told the two Guards of Gloom to accompany us. One never knew where the portal might take us.

  We ported to the Hall of the Elements, crossed the magic veil and entered the library. It wasn't so empty anymore: whatever books and scrolls we'd already discovered in the castle lay open on the desks.

  The portal emitted a steady glow. No idea where it led.

  Hadn't we had enough adventures for one day?

  With that thought, I stepped onto the stone platform.

  Reality rippled around me, submerging me into a soundless darkness. The air was stale here. The strand of a cobweb touched my face.

  A dull flash revealed the outlines of a smith's forge, stacks of cargonite bars, several vise benches, a few weapon racks and wooden dummies.

  "Light it up," I said.

  Lethmiel cast a cold fireball and sent it hovering under the ceiling.

  "A smithy?" Enea looked around herself in surprise. "How strange. Why would anyone want to connect a library to a smithy?"

  "Probably because the smithy was used by wizards," Lethmiel said, pointing at an ancient manuscript.

  I read the title aloud, "Weapon Enchantment Manual".

  "This is priceless! And here, look," Enea bent down and picked up some loose pages scattered all over the floor, "someone has tried to burn them! Alex, take a look! This is also a manual!"

  I peered at the pages. The fragile yellowed scraps of parchment were covered in faded drawings and inscriptions in the Founders' language.

  I could understand a few simple words. Cargonite, metal, fire... the rest was unintelligible. I saw a few more familiar symbols and tried to read the word... water!

  "Lethmiel, we need to collect all the pages. Can you do that?"

  "Of course. I think they're part of the same book. The pages are numbered."

  I bent down and picked up a leather book spine embossed with a single word:

  Cargonite

  Quest update: The Secret Alloy!

  Collect the manuscript pages and show the resulting book to Master Jung.

  "I'm afraid we'll have to collect the pages now," I said. "Can you help me?"

  Soon we came across the book cover, too. I took pictures of every page we found, just in case.

  "This looks like a guide to cargonite alloys," Lethmiel said, studying the drawings. "Ah, here's Spectral Dust!" he pointed at the picture of a blacksmith pouring some powder into water. "I wonder if they used it to change a hardened metal's properties?"

  "I think I know of a blacksmith who might look into it," I said. "But first we need to copy all the pages."

  "I'll take care of that," Lethmiel said. "Should we leave the manuscript in the library?"

  "Definitely," I said.

  Kray came over to us. "Our naginatas are broken, sir. Can we have new ones?"

  I
looked at the weapon stands. They held five one-handed swords, three halberds and seven naginatas: the exact copies of the ones we'd found in the dungeon.

  I saw no reason to say no. Both warriors had proven their worth in battle; both were damn good with polearms. "Sure. Help yourselves."

  "Thirty-two pages, according to the page count," Enea set the book cover over the stack of fire-licked sheets. Her voice betrayed the exhaustion of a challenging day. "I think we've found them all."

  "That's it, then. Dinner time," I said, drawing a line under the day's adventures. "Lethmiel, I'd like you to hire a few calligraphers to copy the book. Oh, and will you please cast some spell on the pages to make sure they stay together. I need a copy of the book by tomorrow morning."

  * * *

  SHAFTS OF MORNING light filled the room.

  Enea was still asleep. Gingerly I freed my arm from under her head and got up. I splashed some water on my face, picked up a coffee cup from a tray and walked out onto the balcony. The chef hired by Lethmiel knew what he was doing. Once I'd explained to him what I needed, he'd spent some quality time experimenting with various ingredients until he got the coffee to taste and smell just right.

  I looked forward to the new day.

  The warm morning breeze felt fresh on my face. A fishermen's boat approached the pier. An Elf squad was guarding three sturdy carts while some workers loaded them with cratefuls of Spectral Dust.

  I pulled yesterday's book out of the inventory and began leafing through it. Nice surprise for Master Jurg. Even though we hadn't translated it yet, the drawings themselves were pretty clear: this indeed was a manual on making cargonite alloys.

  The air in front of me thickened, forming a thin haze that served as a backdrop for a fiery message,

  Dimian the shop owner has arrived.

  Lethmiel was true to himself. The guy used every opportunity to practice magic. In this respect, he was very similar to Platinus who'd already made the necessary quantity of Spectral Dust and left for the Toxic Moors, having cadged a squad of orc guards for himself. He'd be gone all day now, farming rare ingredients.

  Time to wake Enea up. It was going to be a busy day. I also had an idea about the castle restoration. It was actually Lethmiel's unusual behavior and his passion for ancient magic practices that had given me the thought.

  "Hi," I heard.

  She was already awake and enjoying this world, taking in her own freedom and our happiness. Like a mischievous little girl, she ignored the doors and microported everywhere in fast, decisive bursts.

  Her lips touched mine. "Where's my coffee?"

  "On the table. No, please don’t port! You'll splash it all over yourself. I'll fetch it."

  As if! Before I could blink, she was already back with her coffee, a cheerful glint in her eye. Alpha clung to her shoulder, casting wary glances around. He didn't look happy with all this porting about.

  "I want a hug and a story! How's everything going?" he demanded, beaming with joy.

  "Dimian's just arrived. He's waiting in the Resurrection Hall. Platinus took the orcs and left for the Moors."

  "Did you hear the racket last night?"

  "No. What happened?"

  "Yorm decided to come and fetch his wood," she laughed. "I had to get up and close the window. The hydras were screaming like you can't imagine."

  The clan control tab in my interface blinked. It was Iskandar and Rodrigo logging in. Archibald arrived next.

  I opened the voice chat. "Lethmiel, are you ready to receive new applicants?"

  "Yes, my lord. There's plenty of food to go around. We've set up camp not far from the ruins of the barbican. Sir Archibald suggested using it as a training ground. He'd like to hold a tournament among the applicants. It can start as early as lunchtime."

  "Good," I opened the information tab. Oh wow. We had over three hundred applicants already, impatient to join the fabled Black Mantises. Not bad for a start. "No news about the Moor Goblins' totem?"

  "Not yet," Lethmiel replied. "Then again, we've only inspected less than half of the donjon. But we did discover another floor with perfectly intact rooms we can use as dormitories. They're not as big as those of the Disciples but still they're better than tents or inn rooms. Our workers are busy cleaning them up now."

  "How many people do you think you can put up there?"

  "At least two hundred."

  "Excellent! Get on with it. We'll be off to the Azure Mountains in a minute."

  Enea sipped her coffee, listening to our conversation. I contacted Archibald,

  "Hi, Arch. How do you plan to select new members? What are your rejection criteria?"

  "Hi, man. I'm not going to reject anyone."

  "So what's this tournament for, then?"

  "I want to see what they can do. It'll be an elimination game. Based on the results, I'll form the officer cadre and groups of other ranks. If everything works out as I think it will, you can expect the first Toxic Moor raid within a few days."

  "But why do you want to accept everyone?"

  "Because those who won't like it will quit anyway. You'll see. We need to set up a thirty-day trial period. That way we'll have well-knit combat groups in time for the swearing-in ceremony. By the way, we will need perks, the more the better. Not that I'm going to spoil them but we absolutely need to reward those who deserve it. Oh, and one more thing. You need to hire some merchants and change their settings so that they get a better selection and prices than the city shops. Think you can do that?"

  "Absolutely," I said. "Today it'll be done."

  "Perfect. Keep me posted. Come and see the tournament when you can, both of you. It's a very empowering sight, I tell you."

  "I will, but don't expect us before lunchtime."

  "Okey dokey."

  While I discussed a few last-moment details with Iskandar and Rodrigo, Enea finished her coffee and got dressed. "I'm ready."

  "How about breakfast?"

  "We can have it downstairs. I'd like to see Dimian. We never discussed the final terms of the deal."

  "Okay. That'll give us the chance to take a squint at the applicants. Iskandar and Rodrigo will cast a guest portal in a moment."

  "Yes, but how are we going to keep it running?"

  "I'll switch it over to the castle's power source."

  "In that case, put your arms around me and hold on tight!"

  * * *

  THE NEXT MOMENT, we found ourselves in the Resurrection Hall.

  The brief teleport had taken my breath away. Enea was full of surprises. This was neither a mischievous prank nor her joyful abuse of a brave new world's capabilities: Enea was using every opportunity to level up, purposefully and cool-headedly.

  Our arrival remained unnoticed. The hall was now brightly lit and decorated with the clan's logos. The precious stones that studded the ancient wall carvings glinted in the lamplight. The guest portal worked nonstop, disgorging new players. Their reactions were identical: that of shocked amazement. The majestic castle was a far cry from Agrion. The Cargonite Golem

  rendered them speechless: he stood frozen at the entrance to the inner court, following every visitor with his fiery glare.

  As we walked toward Dimian sitting at one of the tables, I noticed a considerable amount of female warriors among the applicants.

  "Good morning, Dimian!" Enea gave him a hug.

  "It may be good to some but not to me," he replied.

  I took a seat opposite him. "Why, what happened?"

  "The guild wants a piece of me. They threatened to expel me. Even the gold I paid them didn't help. Too many ill-wishers."

  "And if they do expel you, what's gonna happen then?"

  "I won't be able to do any trade, will I? I'll have to become a traveling peddler!"

  He looked really distraught. He even ignored his food. Enea and I, however, attacked our breakfast with gusto. We were both hungry.

  "Does that mean that you can't keep your shop if you're not a guild member?" I a
sked.

  "I'll have no right to," he corrected me.

  "What is it they want from you?" Enea asked.

  "They want the portal coordinates and a monopoly to the Spectral Dust trade."

  "A what?"

  "You heard," Dimian helped himself to some wine and took a sip. "They told me to bring all the Spectral Dust to the Guild."

  "What kind of price are they offering? Any good?"

  "As if!" he made a helpless gesture. "No idea what I'm going to do now."

  "Close up shop, pack your goods and move over here," Enea suggested.

  "What, just like that?" Dimian hiccupped with anxiety. "Who do I pay the taxes then? And where do I apply for the trade permit?"

  "The castle is mine. We're a clan. I decide who can trade here."

  "That's all good but... you won't want to have problems with the guild. They might jack up their prices, and then what are you gonna do? You've got one hell of a place here. They'll charge you a fortune for every rusty nail you might need."

  "Nails are not a problem," I said. "We can make them here. But you're right: I'm not looking forward to having problems with the guild. Enea? What do you think?"

  "I think that Dimian doesn't have any Spectral Dust. You do. You're the one trading with the dwarves."

  "I knew it!" Dimian groaned. "You've ruined me!"

  "Not if you move over here," she repeated. "I'll sort it out with the guild. You'll still be a member. You'll still pay your taxes to them. And as for your loss, we'll have to pay you a compensation, won't we?"

  "How much?"

  "It's up to you. How much do you need to build a shop here and stock it?"

  "You want me to tell you now?"

  "Why not? You have the time until we finish our breakfast," Enea gave me an inconspicuous wink. "Would you like to become the clan's official trade representative?"