Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1)
Page 16
“I don’t charge for looking, but don’t be putting your paws on anything without permission. So, you’re scheming to do some fishing?”
I nodded while examining the man’s wares.
“Yes, we’d like to try.”
“It’s pointless. There hasn’t been good fishing around the island for a good long while. Nothing but kote. They swarm from all over Blackriver—you can’t go near the water without wetting yourself. Their meat is tasty, no doubt, and their liver is a real delicacy, but they avoid the hook. You just can’t catch the bastards. Not with a hook, not with a net. The beasts are too bloody clever.”
I nodded again. “I know. You can’t even harpoon them from boats. A hunter shot one dead about a week ago. Sighted it from a cliff and hit it with an arrow. But the kote sank, so all he got was a small symbol of chi.”
“You’re new here, aren’t you? How are you so well-informed?” Guppy looked surprised.
“Oh, I suppose I know when to keep my ears open.”
“And where are you from?” the merchant pressed on. “An Imperial, I presume?”
“No. Born in the North, never set foot on Imperial land.”
“You look more like a ratwolf than a Northerner,” Guppy said suspiciously.
“And yet, I am a Northerner. I’d like to buy these two hooks.”
“What do you need such huge hooks for? I told you, there’s no normal fish left in these waters.”
“Those are the ones I need. And do you have spoons? Metal ones?”
“Metal, eh? Keen on playing the aristocrat?” Guppy chortled. “I’ve got a couple of copper ones.”
“I’ll take them.” I was glad to see the number of spoons matched that of the hooks I fancied. “But mind sawing the handles off?”
“How are you going to eat with them then?” the trader looked curious.
“I’ve got my ways. And can you make a hole here and here?”
“Then they won’t be spoons anymore. What exactly are you scheming?”
“You’re right, they won’t be spoons anymore. This would make them special amulets of my people, honoring the memory of our ancestors who were tortured to death in dank dungeons,” I lied without batting an eye.
“And what exactly did those ancestors do to get tortured to death? Were they murderers?”
“They were loyal to their lord until the bitter end. But, alas, his clan lost the war.”
“That’s sacred. Loyalty like that is to be revered, so good on you. Though we don’t require amulets for that, I suppose everyone’s got their customs.”
“I also need some thin wire. And that should be it. Can you find some among your wares?”
“Sure. It’ll cost you four small symbols for everything.”
The wonders of numerology continued—four symbols was exactly what I had to trade.
But I shook my head with a smile.
“You’ve got yourself a deal, but only if you add some food.”
“Food? You’ve got some nerve to haggle with me, boy. Fine, I’ll throw in a few crackers, but that’s it!”
Not much of a negotiator, Guppy was. And his prices were backbreaking.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t a case where I could simply stroll down to the next stall and compare prices. This was the only shopkeeper in the whole damn fort with the materials I needed. Negotiating with craftsmen would cost even more.
It was too bad Guppy was so unaccommodating to his customers.
* * *
I was in no hurry to return to the barn. Upon delivering the collected wild leeks, we were rewarded with a generous portion of porridge from Megaera. She was a kind woman, indeed. But she was also impressed with not only the quantity of the fragrant herb, but also the quality, as the ghoul was now able to bypass the tough base of the plant by cutting off only the upper section, which was juicier.
Then Beko and I climbed on top of the wall, which afforded a nice view of the river and the woods sprawling over the left bank. There we put away Megaera’s porridge and Guppy’s crackers, as well as most of the leftover lard, leaving only a bit for tomorrow so as to not start a new workday on an empty belly.
I had to do something about the food situation. And pronto. My organism was experiencing an unprecedented surge. My muscles had suddenly remembered that they wanted to grow. Similarly, all my other organs and subsystems demanded their fair share. Harmonious development necessitated a full set of “bricks” with which to build new layers and stories: proteins, fats, carbs, vitamins and various other nutrients. Last but not least, I needed Rock’s special spices, without which my inner parameters would remain far below their maximum values.
Although, considering the capacity of my chi reservoir, the Order seemed to have made an exception in this respect. And while that presented another hurdle for me, perhaps my abnormality also meant that my attributes might grow to their max values on their own.
Unlike talents, the concept of attributes got fairly complex. The number of attributes was just that—a number. A well-developed Agility attribute might require, say, forty units of minor essence of Agility, but only ten units at the early stages. Accordingly, one person may save on spices and pump Agility quickly, investing the bare minimum. While another may blow it up to the size of a blimp by spending four times the minimum amount. The first would have invested one hundred small essences, and the second four hundred. And if the two of them were to compete for something where pure Agility was the determining factor, with all else being equal, the first would end up the loser, every time.
That made nobles who didn’t want for anything more than just alphas. They were alphas with inflated attributes.
I didn’t know what I would become—if I became anything at all. But assuming I succeeded in raising my parameters, it would behoove me to do it right from the start, in a way befitting a noble.
My amulet was nothing but a stopgap. A temporary solution to the problem. It was entirely possible that its embedded attributes were working in overdrive, filled to the max or at least close to it. If I managed to quickly bring my body to a decent condition, I would look like a decent omega at a second degree of enlightenment.
And I would remain such for a bit under two months, at which point my life would be over.
Unless I found a way out to escape this jam between a rock and a hard place. Between the inexorable flow of time and the unrelenting leakage of chi.
* * *
The primary building material of nearly all of the fort’s structures was wood. Decorticated logs fitted together using just one tool: the axe. Decorticated trunks typically required lengthy drying, which wasn’t always possible. Moreover, fresh material was far easier to work with. As a result, most of the houses and other structures were raised with green wood.
The climate up north was just as raw as the material used, which soon presented the fort’s inhabitants with the problem of rot. The battle against such an enemy relied on traditional methods: waiting for a drought, then coating the logs with sourpiss.
I didn’t know the exact recipe of the stuff. Only that when you saw buckets with the oily mixture, you had better keep far away from them. The buckets were usually stored around some remote corner where nobody should go. And they would remain there for a period of one to two months—until the mixture ripened.
In the process, the mixture separated into several layers. The initial oily element rose to the top while a heavy fraction condensed in the center—tar-black with a slightly viscous, jelly-like consistency. It was this very substance—after disposing of the upper fraction—that was then used to coat the lower sections of wooden structures, extending their lifespan by a significant margin.
The workers tasked with performing the job would rush through it as fast as they could with minimum amount of breathing and maximum amount of cussing. That made the spectacle hard to ignore, and the inquisitive mind locked away in the enfeebled body quickly figured out the reasons for the shudras’ distaste for the job.
“Gods Almighty!” Beko groaned, choking on his words. “It reeks so bad!”
“I warned you to pick up the bucket carefully. If you shake it, everything will get all mixed up.
“Why do we need this thing, Ged?!”
“We’re making soup,” I replied imperturbably.
“Soup?! Oh no, no, no! I’m not eating sourpiss soup!” the ghoul shouted, mortified.
“That’s too bad, cause it’s hearty. Relax, I’m just kidding. There’s nothing about it that’s hearty. Let me just grab one more bucket, and we will go.”
“One more bucket?!”
“There’s two of them here for a reason. They can’t bear to be apart. And besides, two buckets are better than one.”
“Can we just go home? Please, Ged? It’s really late, the Carps won’t be waiting for us at this hour.”
“Sun Tzu disagrees.”
“Who is that? I don’t know him. That means he doesn’t live in Blackriver.”
“They say he was a sage and a strategist. He said lots of smart things, and wrote down even more. Do you know what he said about the rules of waging war?”
“I don’t.”
“According to him, rule number one is to never rely on your enemy not showing up for battle. Instead, rely on what you have in your hands when he does.”
“So what do we have in our hands?”
“You can see clearly that we have buckets of sourpiss. Now let’s go before the Carps really do give up waiting for us. By the way, were you lying when you said you could see well in the darkness?”
“I’m a ghoul, aren’t I? I can see better than you, but not everything. Cats can see better than me. But I can also smell. Some things. For instance, I can smell that we’re going to get thrashed. And badly.”
“Have no fear, Beko. I am a general, and you are my one-man army. I must keep you safe, for what kind of general would I be without an army? We’re one step away from victory, I assure you. Help me secure this rope, and we shall soon be bathing in the tears of our enemies.”
* * *
The carefully transported bucket didn’t reek quite as badly as a gaping chasm filled with excrement, but being in its proximity was hardly pleasant. Alas, we had no choice but to carry on. Nature hadn’t endowed me with twilight vision, and to distance from my main weapon was to run the risk of not being able to utilize it at the right moment.
Instead, my one hand was ready to grab the bucket, and the other was gripping the corner of a ragged sack thrown over a huge cage of fireflies. It was supposed to hang on the corner of the fortress, but I thought that shifting it thirty feet or so to the side wouldn’t be so terrible. Besides, this was the time for the changing of the guard in the main tower, so any sharp-eyed sentries ought to be focused on that, and not on my tactical scheming. Finally, this section of the fort was situated in a partially dead zone. That was the biggest reason why I had decided to stage the battle with the Carps precisely here.
I couldn’t see our adversaries from our current position, but I had an inkling what they were up to. The four of them were probably hanging around the barn, squirming with impatience as they waited for us to muster up the courage and show ourselves. Their minds weren’t capable of devising anything beyond such a primitive ambush. And now that night had fallen, they were feeling cold and restless. The nagging thought to abandon the plan and hit the hay was growing louder and louder. And then, come morning, they would return and have their way with us scoundrels.
Sitting quietly in the dark wasn’t something they would be doing. They were killing time shooting the breeze, their attention on the conversation and not on the cunning enemy stalking up to them, unaffected by the darkness that handicapped them.
And carrying a terrible weapon.
The saboteur’s eyes easily identified the general of the hostile army. His steps became even lighter and more furtive. Within moments he was so close to his goal that the enemy troops began wrinkling their noses, not quite understanding that they were smelling their imminent defeat.
And then, out of the darkness came the staggering cloak-and-dagger blow.
Well, not quite a blow. Perhaps there was some actual physical impact, but that wouldn’t be intentional. The plan had been to avoid any serious physical trauma.
The injuries were meant to be of the moral variety.
I perked up at the sounds of a commotion ahead, further down the passage running along the wall. The battle had begun.
Then, an indescribable scream pierced the darkness. The mighty sound was a blend of mindless rage, shock, fear and unbearable disgust mixed with umbrage at the great injustices of life, the universe and everything. It was a wonder how much one had to express to the world after pulling off of his head a bucket of ripened sourpiss that had been placed there moments earlier by a sinister foe.
However, a neutralized general didn’t necessarily spell victory—not when his army was still intact. Untouched by the perfidious attack, the troops rushed after the operative, who was already darting through a passageway that just happened to be illuminated by the glow of some biological lanterns hanging on the wall directly above.
It was time to send in the cavalry. In other words—me.
I waited for Beko to dash past at middling speed. Then, trusting my ears more than my eyes, I waited for all three pursuers to crash to the ground. Unlike the ghoul, they hadn’t seen the trip-wire—nor been aware of its existence.
I pulled the rag off the cage of fireflies to spotlight the villainy that was about to take place here. A kick in the ribs reacquainted Jakos with my foot (lest he forget it!) and sent him flying into his two accomplices. Then I pulled on the rope and watched the trio become ensnared in the fishing net they had so graciously dried for us earlier.
The next step involved whipping the enemy troops with a tree branch, causing them to panic, fumble about and act erratically, which only aggravated their situation.
Finally, I returned to the lantern unhurriedly. After wrapping my hands with burdocks to keep them clean, I picked up the bucket.
I paused to aim, then splashed the contents over the three prisoners, making sure each got his fair share.
Little Tatai turned out to have quite the singing voice. It almost drowned out Satat’s unintelligible shouting and wolf-like howling—in between spitting in humiliated disgust. Torchlight flickered from the direction of the towers just as human shapes stirred from amid the houses. Fearful as these people were, no way such a commotion would be left unexamined.
Leaving the Carps to deal with their predicament on their own, I hurried down a previously marked escape route. Only once did I need to hide and let pass a guard carrying a torch overhead. Aside from that, there were no incidents. Even at the finish line, where I had expected to run into some difficulties, there was no one. Either Satat had himself moved down the passage or he had been led there, to the main scene. His familiar sonorous voice reverberated from that direction for all the fort residents to hear.
I found Beko in his usual spot, cowering in the dark corner of the barn, teeth chattering. The ghoul was likely overwhelmed with positive emotions.
Listening to the hubbub outside, I spoke in a contentedly weary voice.
“We have rebuffed the enemy away from our home. So, how did you like the battle?”
“They will see us dead for this! They will! If not today, then tomorrow!”
“You get put on a stake for murder.”
“And that’s exactly what Ash will do!” Beko persisted.
“Why would they kill us, anyway? We were simply doing our job. And doing
it well. The Carps were getting in the way. So we had to explain to them that such behavior was unacceptable.”
“The Carps will kill us. Sure as the sun will rise, they will kill us. And they’ll bring Romris with them,” Beko added in a whisper. “They’ll catch us all together and kill us.”
“Don’t worry. They will spend all day tomorrow washing and scrubbing. Maybe more than a day. Sourpiss is no joke.”
I couldn’t hold back a fit of laughter.
Beko resisted for a few more seconds, then relented and joined in the mirth.
His laughter sounded more hysterical than joyous. It’s all right; a little more time with me will teach him to rejoice like a normal person.