“We’ll have a house!” I told the girl as she leveled up to thirty right before my eyes. “It’ll be the coziest and safest house ever. Where we can wait for the winter to end and protect ourselves from all the dangers of the world. But right now we have to go, before the other sherkhs miss this group of scouts. Oh, perfect!”
My last phrase referred to the rain, which had finally started. Rare droplets quickly turned into a true downpour. Just what we needed to cover our tracks from pursuers.
* * *
The rain poured unceasingly, not stopping until nightfall. We had to change direction several times through the veil of water when streams turned into furious floods. We strayed off course and wandered long with no idea where we were. We might have walked right past our target if it weren’t for our Scout’s sharp eye. She noticed a strange greenish light to our left, along with some dark sharp shadows on the horizon — either cliffs or the contours of towers in an old fortress. The strange diffuse light was coming from them. Could this be the Southern Ruins, rumored to be home to the minotaur?
The group moved in that direction, but soon we had to stop. All the other group members were suddenly losing Health Points, and they complained of a strange dizziness and sudden weakness. Nothing of the kind happened to my Sergeant. Probably thanks to his high Physique. That was the highest of all Sergeant’s stats, and I’d put both the free points I got at level twenty-five into Physique, raising the stat off all the way to twenty-four, which increased both my Health Points and Stamina Points, along with my regeneration and resistance to environmental forces. I suspected that my regeneration overcame the drop in hit points, so I didn’t experience any ill effects. But a message popped up before my eyes and put me on guard:
Tenacity skill increased to level ten!
There was definitely some aggressive external influence here. Some poisonous gas? Radiation? The intensity of whatever it was quickly grew as we got closer to the ruins. We couldn’t even think of going any further without preparing first, especially now, when night was about to bring its beasts and other dangers. I ordered a retreat and decided to set up camp at a safe distance from the old ruins.
We found a convenient and even relatively dry spot beneath the crown of a huge tree. I would have called it an oak, with its knotty roots and its trunk five arm spans thick. It even had oak-like leaves. But could juicy bright orange fruit like elongated plums grow on an oak? The thunderstorm hadn’t ended yet, and we all knew the danger a lightning strike could pose to trees standing alone like this one, but we decided that, since the tree had survived for so many decades already, it would probably make it through the night. And as far as we all saw, the lightning seemed to strike the tall spires of the ancient fortress nearby with enviable precision, preferring them to the trees and other heights nearby. Our Engineer even advanced the theory that the area around the fortress would be totally safe thanks to its convenient lightning rods.
Despite the danger of discovery, we lit a campfire. We were all soaked through and freezing, and it would be a harsh night with no fire. We were also waiting for the night beasts. We hadn’t even unsaddled the Marsh Mistress and Irosaurus Regina yet, and it was better to fight in the light, when you could see the enemy. Although by all our calculations, the maximum level of the Feelers shouldn’t be more than eight, and we should see no fearsome Alphas among them.
But night fell, and the Feelers didn’t come. That was somewhat strange, although it confirmed my earlier observation that the night beasts didn’t seem to appear near ancient ruins for some reason. I didn’t see them at Hundred Skull City either, nor at the ruins in the hills. Even in the swamp ruins where I’d once tamed the Marsh Mistress, no Feelers had appeared to disturb me and Shelly. Was it a coincidence? Or a hint from the creators of the new world about where to build settlements?
We ate meat, some edible roots and the fruits of the ‘oak,’ so sour they made us make faces. I was the first to try the ‘plums’ and I found them perfectly edible. We didn’t throw away the stones — fruit trees were a great rarity, and the Engineer suggested we should plant the stones wherever we decided to set up after we left for the wider world.
To warm us up faster, I even uncorked the bottle of wine Bald Skull had given me. Of course, we discussed recent events and built our plans. Max expressed the view that, now that the war had begun, our mission to catch the minotaur was no longer relevant — the rulers of the New Pharaohs wanted to use the horned monster in the arena to train gladiators and amuse the populace, but they’d hardly be throwing any large events in wartime. Varya’s father suggested we abandon the whole idea, return to the Philosopher and then just float downstream through the barrier. Just two members of the league of losers, he said, — Margarita Ovchinnikov and Edward Samarsky — hadn’t yet reached the required level to go through the barrier, but at the rate we were leveling up, they’d get there in a day or two. By the time the Pharaoh and his terrible wife missed us, we’d already be beyond their reach. So why should we risk entangling ourselves with a dangerous monster?
I insisted that we continue to carry out the task we were given. While we were completing a mission from Lady Victoria, the New Pharaohs wouldn’t touch us. Who knew what the humans of the strongest guild would do if we just dropped everything and went back empty-handed? Anyway, we hadn’t even seen the minotaur yet, we’d only just reached his lair. Maybe things weren’t as hopeless as we feared? Despite the gradual draining of our Health Points, we could still approach the ancient ruins and look around. We could set some traps and snares, lure out the horned creature and tie it up. Then we’d hand the monster over to the first squad we found from the New Pharaohs and head out to the world beyond the forcefield with a clean conscience.
Our sherkh prisoner sat nearby and listened to our conversations carefully, his ears twitching to catch every word. I offered him food several times, even promised to retie his hands in front or just untie them, leaving only his feet tied. I even suggested leaving the plate somewhere away from the group, to honor sherkh laws and ensure that none of the humans saw him eating. The prisoner just snarled and ground his teeth, hurling short, simplistic abuse at me. Like “you think you know our customs, but you’re just a fool!” and so on. The tied-up Tracker also refused to answer my questions. His loss. He could go hungry if he wanted.
Margarita watched my attempts to talk to the sherkh for a long time, then finally broke.
“Why are we even wasting our time with him?! He’s an enemy, and that’s that! We should finish off our enemy and be done with it! And we sure could use the experience for killing a level forty-one.”
What was I hearing? I tried to keep my face neutral, but it was tough — the humble and helpless Margarita that I’d first met on the train, then watched later in the League of Losers, was the last person I would have expected to be a cold-blooded killer. Yes, she’d killed twice in the last day, but that was all in defense of her own life, not a calculated execution. I turned to Margarita, looked her in the eye and handed her a knife.
“Think you can kill a defenseless prisoner? Alright then, go ahead! You’ll get a new level, maybe even two.”
Margarita hesitated. She glanced at the tied up sherkh, then back at the knife in her hands. Then she turned to Edward in search of support, even offered the knife to the Mechanic. He shook his head. “Sorry. I’m not a saint, but I’m no torturer either.” Margarita dropped her head and handed the knife back to me.
The sherkh had been watching the whole scene closely. His lips twisted in a grin and he laughed.
“Humans are weak! You fear to get your hands dirty. We sherkhs are far harsher and more pragmatic. But since you don’t plan to kill me, will you consider letting me go?”
“So you can go back to the others and tell them where to find us? No, thanks. We aren’t that stupid.” Now it was my turn to laugh and grin back at the bound man. “You got one thing right, sherkh. We don’t plan to kill you. There’s no point. You’ll revive and brin
g your guildmates back. Who needs that? No. We’re going to take you out to the world beyond the barrier and then release you to the four winds. We’ll even give you back your clothes and weapons. Then you can go join Eastern Garrison or live on your own, it’s up to you. But you won’t be going back to Southern Garrison. They’ll mark you a deserter and traitor.”
Choose the learnable skill Intimidation for your character?
Choose the learnable skill Diplomacy for your character?
What was diplomatic about that..? I’d just spent enough time talking to Avelia to know what I was saying. For a sherkh, shame was a hundred times worse than death. Anyway, it seemed to be working, and then some! The satisfied smile on the prisoner’s face fled before a look of despair. The bound Tracker started to panic — he roared, railed against his bonds, tried to pull himself free. The Engineer stood up in alarm, but I told him to sit back down. Let the sherkh rage and realize there was no way to escape. Maybe then he’d get a little more compliant.
Sure enough, a minute later the Tracker abandoned his fruitless attempts to break through the thick wire, turned his head toward me and spoke like a man doomed:
“I’ll answer your questions, human. But you must promise to kill me. Later, once you reach the barrier to the world outside.”
He seemed ready to agree to anything now — to give up any information, swear any oath, as long as he was allowed to die and return to his guild.
“I won’t kill you, I’ll just let you go.”
The sherkh looked up in surprise, his eyes widening. I cocked my head.
“Maybe this is hard for you to believe,” I said, “but I and the members of my group are no enemies to the sherkhs. I’ve had the opportunity to speak to some of your people before. Even the leader of Eastern Garrison, Avelia Un Ponar. I could talk to most of them easily, without anger or aggression. We even helped each other from time to time. I’ve never encountered Southern Garrison before, so the attack from your troops was completely unexpected. It should come as no surprise that I want to understand the reason for it.”
Choose the learnable skill Diplomacy for your character?
The same suggestion from the game system again… What was this skill anyway? It seemed unnecessary for a Beast Catcher, but then, I wasn’t just a solo player, I was the leader of a small group. Maybe it would be useful for all of us? I opened the game manual. Hmm… Lowers aggression in members of other factions and guilds, including NPCs, game bosses and living players alike. Unlocks unique dialog choices and increases the chances of reaching agreements. Affects the conditions of trade deals, although not as much as the specialized Trading skill.
Could definitely come in handy… But before I could make a decision, the sherkh distracted me.
“Untie my arms!” he asked. “I give you my word that I will not flee, human. And I will not attack your humans or the veyer.”
I nodded to Edward and the Mechanic took the wire off the prisoner’s wrists and elbows. The Tracker rubbed his sore wrists and then, without a single prompt from me, started to tell me about how his fellow sherkhs had been driven into a fury from the human attack. After all, the humans’ long-range howitzers destroyed more than just the fortresses on the border. Several villages full of civilians had been wiped from the face of the earth, and most of the people sent to the respawn point were nursing mothers and infant children. Some died twice, even three times in the same day.
At the order of the Great Leader, all the guilds assembled units of avengers whose task was to attack the humans in their own territory. Destroy bridges, burn down the manors of the nobles and valuable players in the New Pharaohs, slay the tamed beasts. The prisoner told us that a group of fifty stealth attackers from Southern Garrison crossed the border high in the mountains, where there were no human watchers. Then the group split into three squads. One group went to destroy the human Beast Catcher’s manor. The second attacked the barracks of the trade town’s defenders. The Tracker didn’t know the target of the third group, but they went somewhere north, to the cliffs. The Tracker himself ended up in the second group and didn’t participate in the attack on the human Beast Catcher.
But right after all three squads reunited, he was tasked with tracking the escaped human Beast Catcher along with three other experienced trackers. The task was not easy. The group lost the trail several times. It took a long time for them to untangle the loops and false tracks we left behind. But all the same, they completed their task and found our group on the lakeshore the next day. They sent one runner off to report our location while the others continued to track us. Yes, they carelessly gave themselves up somehow. But the fact that this wasn’t even the same Beast Catcher that the first sherkh squad had been sent to hunt only became known to Tamir Vai Ugashi from the talk in the camp after his imprisonment. All the same, I had no doubt whatsoever that the leader of Southern Garrison had decided to kill the other Beast Catcher too, and right now a group of sherkhs were out in search of the squad that had disappeared in the storm. And sooner or later, they’d find us.
Suddenly, the storyteller’s face twisted in horror. The sherkh fell silent, watching something behind my back open-mouthed. I turned sharply and my own jaw dropped in surprises.
By the trunk of a big tree, leaning on a huge poleaxe and digging around in his teeth with a piece of straw, stood the Minotaur himself! Definitely Minotaur with a capital M. He was huge, at least twelve feet tall. He walked upright, with two mighty musclebound arms, his hairy tree-trunk legs ending in hooves. He wore a padded vest and leather shorts, with a necklace of many human skulls around his powerful neck. Horns stretched out from his head and a his body glowed a sinister green.
“I see you have to come visit me,” the terrible beast growled like thunder, spitting out his piece of straw and taking up his poleaxe in both hands. “So I thought I’d come join this campfire sit-down myself!”
Chapter 30 [Kitten]
Refuge with a Monster
☠ Minotaur. Legendary Monster.
THE SKULL SYMBOL indicating a dangerous man-eating monster raised no eyebrows at all. On the contrary, I would have been shocked by its absence. But ‘legendary monster’? Even the Fiery Manticore had no such title. We were in for a tough fight! I held on to hope that the huge Minotaur would pay no attention to a creature as small as me, that he’d stick to the big oafs. But I had no plans to let him kill my companions unpunished either. So I arched my back, stretching and flexing my muscles. What could I do against a Minotaur? I didn’t even know where to start. Slow would be pitifully weak against such a massive monster, and there was no way Paralyze would work at all. No point in sapping mana from the Minotaur — it wasn’t a spellcaster. And any fire or ice spells would just draw the horned monster’s attention to me.
The big oafs were confused too. They took out their guns, but didn’t shoot, just exchanged tense glances, nobody wanting to be the first to fire. I understood them perfectly. Our chances of surviving a fight against the massive monster seemed extremely slim. Maybe we’d have some chance of success if we used our battle pets , but the Marsh Mistress and Irosaurus Regina were far away. We wouldn’t make it to them in time — the Minotaur would kill the whole group first. All in all, matters looked dire, and the humans saw it too.
Only Sergeant kept sitting by the fire as if nothing was amiss, stoking the coals beneath the skewers of meat. My master was the one to break the drawn-out silence:
“Hey, bull man, you should hire our group to guard your castle!”
What!? Was he mad!? Judging by the other group members, who slowly turned toward him with wide eyes, they were asking themselves the same question. The huge horned beast seemed taken aback by this unprecedented insolence.
“What did you call me, mortal?!” the Minotaur boomed out, his fearsome roar promising retribution, but Sergeant just shrugged calmly.
“What do you want me to call you?” the Beast Catcher asked evenly, still focusing on cooking the meat. “You speak in my lan
guage and I think you used to be human. I don’t know your real name. Minotaur is too general. Horny would be rude.”
“I’ll say! I’d tear off your arms and legs for such insolence,” the mighty beast agreed, taking a step toward Sergeant and raising his heavy serrated poleaxe high above his horned head. “As it is, you will simply die.”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” Sergeant said with a calm that the most enlightened Buddhists would envy. “What about my offer first? You must get all kinds of uninvited guests every day. Some of them want to take your horned head as a trophy, others just want to dig around in the ruins in search of loot.”
“As if you are not like them…” the giant beast, although breathing noisily and flaring out his broad nostrils, still stopped and lowered his weapon.
Sergeant looked the Minotaur right in the eyes and spoke with reproach:
“You see my Beast Catcher class? That means I don’t kill wild beasts, I catch them. And your head holds no interest to me as a trophy. More than that, if we did somehow manage to kill you, then the Pharaoh and his Lady Victoria would publicly dismember me. Me and my group were sent to catch the ‘the dumb and dangerous beast’ that lives in the Southern Ruins. The rulers of the New Pharaohs wanted to throw a bloody show at their arena, with a minotaur as the star. But since you aren’t a dumb wild animal at all, the mission is obviously off. And that means we need a new job and would be grateful to any new employer. Especially the legendary Minotaur himself.”
The horned monster didn’t react, so the Beast Catcher continued:
“You must have some jobs to do that an experienced Engineer and Mechanic could handle. Fixing things in the castle, setting up traps against those uninvited guests, sharpening your poleaxe. Our team also includes a healer and an experienced serving girl who can clean your rooms and wash your dirty clothes. We even have a cat to chase mice away.”
In Service of the Pharaoh (League of Losers Book #2) Page 28
