by Pavel Kornev
A new system message reporting the wolf’s death from loss of blood came as a cherry on the cake,
Achievement received: Dog Slayer Grade 2!
There!
The next moment I found myself standing inside the inn’s loft. Not just standing there — but surrounded by all the vampires who were staring at me in a most unfriendly way, weapons in hand.
I pointedly sheathed the flamberge, removed the mask and smiled. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s going on?” the Baron demanded. “What kind of dirty trick is this?”
“Please explain,” I said without losing my cool. “Can’t be that difficult for a deadman.”
The vampires exchanged glances.
“Someone’s walked off with our artifact!” the Marquis joined the conversation. “We were the only ones who knew about it!”
“Whoever that was, they didn’t just walk off with it! They murdered my boy as well!” I reminded them, gnashing my teeth with anger. “They killed him for real! For good! And yes, we were the only ones who knew about the item!”
It looked like they hadn’t expected this turn of events.
“Seeing as we haven’t gotten the artifact,” the Count joined in the conversation, “we’re gonna keep all the loot.”
If he’d expected me to voice my protest or even lift a hand against him, he’d been mistaken. “Go ahead, then,” I shrugged. “The agreement was with Isabella, not me.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass who it was with!” the Baron exploded. “The money is ours!”
“Whatever you say,” I threw my hands in the air. “But I really should think twice before breaking the word you gave to the Mistress of the Crimson Moon!”
The vampires exchanged grim stares.
“We’ll think about it,” the Count said through clenched teeth.
“You’d better,” I nodded and left the attic.
Just as I began to go down the stairs, the attic door swung open.
“We’ll find those scumbags!” the Baron shouted after me. “Then we’ll talk!”
I gave him the finger as I turned the corner, knowing that he couldn’t see it.
I returned to our room. Isabella wasn’t there. I wanted to call Neo, then realized that the boy wouldn’t be coming.
This was for real. I’d never get him back.
I heard a screeching from behind the window and hurried to swing it open. Scarecrow — who’d grown considerably — sprang into the room and began rotating his head, looking around. With an uncertain crow, he turned and flitted back out.
Was he missing Neo? Probably. I might be missing him too.
This thought must have become some sort of trigger. A blinding light filled the air, singeing me with a wave of incredible holiness and forcing me to step back. Dammit!
Since our last meeting, the ghost of the Grand Master of the Order of the Silver Phoenix had become considerably stronger. A deadman like myself felt very uncomfortable standing next to him.
“You’re guilty of a Light Disciple’s death!” the ghost pronounced in a ghoulish voice. “But not everything is lost! You can still bring him back to life!”
I shielded my eyes with my hand. “Can’t you just resurrect him?”
The Grand Master didn't play hard to get. “My only temple doesn’t provide me with enough energy. You need to cleanse yet another deserted sanctuary! And you need to do it before Neo’s soul vacates this world! Once he crosses over to the other side, you can’t bring him back!”
Bang! The numbers of a countdown began flashing at the very edge of my vision even though I hadn’t yet clicked Accept. The ghost had given me nine days to Restore the Mountain Temple.
“What the hell?” I demanded. “Where am I supposed to get you another temple? I’m dead, don’t forget! I can’t consecrate it!”
With a metallic clatter, a silver chalice rolled at my feet.
“The place you seek is located in the lands recently reclaimed from the powers of the Dark!” the ghost announced. “Go and fetch some living water from the Temple of the Sun. That’s all you need for the ritual!”
Reclaimed lands? The Temple of the Sun? Where was it, anyway?
The knowledge entered my head like the blow of an icepick. An agonizing pain passed right through me. The world around me shuddered.
When I came round, the ghost was already gone, leaving behind the chalice, the countdown and new markers on the maps.
And a headache. Dammit! Not surprisingly: both the Temple of the Sun and the deserted sanctuary I was supposed to restore were situated on the other side of the border, in the vicinity of the Marble Fortress. And if the ruins of the Silver Phoenix sanctuary were located far from any inhabited areas, the source of the living water would be right at the center of the city, in the direct vicinity of the local residence of the Order of the Fiery Hand.
Paladins could sniff out the dead from anywhere, couldn’t they? And in the Temple of the Sun, a Lich’s illusion would be dispelled in a flash.
Nine days to do it all? Nine days! That’s a bastard!
Should I just forget it? The thought brought me a momentary relief even though there was no way I was going to decline the quest. It was just that... just what, exactly?
Why was I moaning about it? I’d just received a unique quest. What was there not to like? It wasn’t as if I had too many things to do. Had there been a portal to the Kingdom of the Dead already open, I might have thought about it, but it wasn’t as if anything was coming from that department. And I could use some extra XP and new allies.
Also, Neo needed rescuing. There’s such a thing as responsibility in case you didn’t know.
But nine days?
I cussed under my breath, left the room and went downstairs. The dining hall was busy for a change. A tall samurai armed with a katana and a wakizashi was drinking whiskey with Mark at the bar. At the far-corner table, two Drow swordsmen were lazily sipping their wine in the company of a spooky gladiator covered in scars and hung with weapons like a Christmas tree. Yet another Dark Elf was sitting by the window, this one a Shaman. By capital city standards, all of them were higher than average players: some of them level 60 and above, others just bubbling under.
“Has Isabella shown up today?” I asked Mark.
“She’ll be here soon,” the innkeeper replied, then returned to his conversation with his new guest.
I took a clean glass, poured myself a shot from the whiskey bottle next to Mark and took it to a free table. I was dying to get sloshed. Still, even the alcohol couldn’t help my headache nor my bad mood. My deadman’s body just didn’t accept it.
I pushed the glass aside and stared darkly out the window. The sound of rolling dice came from the far corner; the shaman was lighting up a pipe of God knows what; Mark was telling whoppers to the samurai.
For all of them, this was just a game. But not for me. It just drove me nuts.
And now this wretched countdown! Where the hell was Isabella now?
The moment I thought about her, she peered into the dining hall. Noticing me, she slid in, perched herself on a chair opposite and demonstratively rearranged her translucent cloak.
As if on cue, the Drow swordsmen stared at their kinswoman — or rather, at her revealing breastplate — but very quickly returned to their own business.
Isabella chose not to provoke them any further by striking any seductive poses.
“The vampires tried to screw around with me but I’ve sorted them out,” she said before I could open my mouth. “They’re gonna sell the loot and transfer us our cut tomorrow at the latest.”
I shrugged. “Neo’s dead.”
She stared at me incredulously. “I know,” she said softly. “I’m very sorry it turned out like that. But it’s only a game...”
Her words cut me to the quick. I winced, motioning her to stop. “I’ve received a quest to resurrect him. Neo, I mean.”
“That’s great!” she sounded sincerely happy. “That
’ll sort it out, no?”
I shook my head. “It will, but it means I might have to go to the Marble Fortress.”
“What?” her eyes widened. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest. “Without me, then!”
“I could use your help.”
“Are you nuts, Kitten?” she asked out loud, making heads turn. “The Marble Fortress is the Lighties’ territory! You couldn’t drag me there even at gunpoint!”
“Why not?” I asked. “It’s not as if we’re starting a war!”
“The war is already on, Kitten! In case you don’t know, the Darks are trying to regain those lands. And we’re on the Fiery Hand Order’s black list! It’s all right for you, but they’re going to burn me at the stake! Oh no, for me a raid on the Marble Fortress is a non-starter!”
I frowned but said nothing. While Incognito might have camouflaged my earlier escapades, Isabella could have her head ripped off for killing the Order’s Paladin.
“Just put it out of your head,” she said. “Don’t stick your neck out. Just forget it!”
“Cool it, will ya?” I said but there was no stopping her.
“Forget it! You’re staying here! Understood?”
“Oh really? Did you decide that?”
“Yes! I decided!” she glared at me.
I replied in kind. For the first time she was the first to avert her gaze.
“Stupid risk,” she shuddered. “And don’t you even think of taking Goar with you. He’s a Paladin of the Autumnal Equinox, a Darkie. And an orc. He certainly won’t be welcome there.”
I nodded. “How about the vampires? You think I could ask them to help? What would you say to such a backup group?”
“They’re going to find those who scorched us last night. And I’d like to help them. Did you see what it was that Neo took from the dungeon?”
I sighed. “A shard of the Sphere of Souls. It was a little bit smaller them ours, I thought.”
“If we get a second fragment, the Spawn of Darkness will have to accept us.”
“But the vampires? It’s their item, isn’t it?”
Isabella shrugged and said with a nasty smile, “It was. Not anymore. They lost it. Whatever happens next is very ambiguous from the moral point of view. Also, do you really think the vampires would decline an invitation to be among the first to get to the Kingdom of the Dead?”
What she’d just said made sense. “Very well. Help them. In the meantime, I’ll nip over to the Marble Fortress. You think you could port me there?”
“You’re nuts, that’s what you are!”
“You can or you can’t?”
She fell silent, apparently performing some complex calculations. “Thirty-five hundred,” she finally said.
“Thirty five hundred what?”
“The portal will cost you thirty-fine hundred,” she glared at me. “Not a penny less!”
“But-”
“No, everything upfront.”
“Oh, choke on it!” I spat, then began counting out the required sum.
I could only hope that I might lay my hands on something salable in the Marble Fortress. Having said that, it wasn’t as if I was giving her my last cents.
The front door slammed. The samurai guffawed at Mark’s last joke, then pulled him close. “You’re a funny guy!” he said.
In an almost imperceptible motion, the samurai pierced Mark’s neck with a long tantō.
The innkeeper collapsed to the floor. The samurai turned away from the bar and drew his swords. “Everybody ready?” he asked.
“Exactly,” a familiar voice replied from the doorway.
Garth Deathblade! The bastard!
The gladiators sprang to their feet, overturning their chairs. The smoke from the shaman’s pipe filled the hall with some sort of gray mist, blocking my Stealth.
Isabella hurled a combat spell at the Drow but it didn’t reach its target, its glittering strip stopping in mid-air.
The next moment the two swordsmen attacked her. The gladiator cast a net impregnated with magic, aiming at me. I used the Leap just in time to avoid its gaping mouth. The burly gladiator who hadn’t expected such a turn of events opened up to my sword blow but managed to dodge it at the very last moment. The tip of my flamberge just skimmed him, leaving a long bleeding wound in his side which unfortunately wasn’t lethal.
I took another swing with my sword but failed to deal him another blow as the samurai had joined in the action. He showered me with a series of swift blows which I could only escape thanks to my lightning-fast reflexes. By a sheer miracle, my Flamberge parried his first three blows, then his wakizashi hit me in the chest but failed to pierce my ghostly cuirass, rebounding off it with a clang.
Immediately his katana flashed toward me. I parried the blow with my left bracer which too had proven too tough for the enemy’s weapon.
Take that, you bastard!
A blinding flash exploded in the room as Isabella’s magic dispersed the smoke. Even while cornered by the Drow swordsmen, she'd given me the chance to stealth up and escape my pursuers.
“Run!” she screamed.
Before I could activate stealth, the samurai crouched in a low lunge, his short sword ripping through my right leg while he slashed out at the left one.
Thigh injury! Agility Penalty: 40%.
Ouch! My wounded leg buckled under me; I collapsed onto my back. I tried to fend off his attack with the flamberge but to no avail: both the wakizashi and the katana struck me, aiming at my knees this time.
“Don’t just stand there like an idiot!” Garth hollered from the doorway. “Throw the net!”
With a seriously cunning move, the samurai knocked the flamberge from my hand and stepped onto my chest. I slithered out and rolled under the table to escape the gladiator’s net.
They hurried to upturn the table.
“The net, quick!” Garth shouted, keeping a safe distance. He chose not to join in the skirmish, just stood there playing with some sort of fabric pouch. “Make sure you don’t kill him! Hey, Johnny! My new master loves having his way with dead bodies!”
A new line added to his Necromancer status:
Worshipper of the Bone Lord
That promised nothing good.
The samurai took well-calculated aim — then disintegrated in a cascade of blood as if hit by a turbo prop. It was the Count — who’d just unstealthed, raining a torrent of blows down on the samurai’s back. His shadow scimitars pierced the fighter’s lacquered armor with ease. The samurai began to turn round but the vampire had already slid toward the gladiator, replaced by both the Baron and the Marquis who’d got the samurai in their grip and made mincemeat out of him.
Garth stepped toward me, feverishly ripping at the pouch’s strings. I tackled him with my flamberge, turning the blade in the already-bleeding wound. Garth staggered, stumbling over the gladiator’s dead body and exposing himself to the Marquis who’d approached and attacked him from behind. Still, Garth managed to stay on his feet and threw a handful of gray dust in the Baron’s face.
The Baron ’s flesh was instantaneously scorched to the bone. He dropped to the floor, convulsing. Scared by the sight, the Marquis recoiled from the dust still hanging in the air and froze in hesitation, holding his rapier and daga in front of him.
Garth didn’t attack him; instead, he pressed his hand to his gashed belly and hurried to the front door.
I dashed after him but lost my footing and collapsed face down onto the table. Even though my steel poleynes had protected my knees from the samurai’s swords, my wounds had proven too serious. I couldn’t even stand up properly, let alone chase after Garth.
Dammit!
The Baron rolled on the floor, howling. The Marquis joined the Count against the Drow swordsmen. Isabella couldn’t join in my chase, either, her path blocked by the shaman as if on purpose. Gritting his teeth from the strain, he was casting a powerful circle of spirits around himself as he backed up toward the door.
>
I had no choice. I activated the Veil of Death and stepped toward him but the shaman’s ghostly protection easily threw me back, stripping me of a large chunk of my health.
“You’re dead!” I shouted, furious. Using the sorcerous Lasso, I picked up a massive chair from the opposite wall and pulled it toward myself, tripping the shaman.
He collapsed onto his back, momentarily losing control of his spirits. Isabella jumped at the chance and threw herself at him, pummeling him with her staff.
Bummer! What about Garth?
I limped toward the front door and tumbled out onto the porch, catching a glimpse of Garth's dark cloak at the end of the street. There was no way I could catch up with him nor could I hope that the bleeding would kill him. He was getting away, I just knew it!
Or not?
I mentally reached out to Scarecrow, my dead Phoenix. He dove after Garth like a well-aimed spear. I was so weak I was struggling to control him, but even without my guidance he knew very well whom to attack.
Scarecrow invested all his might into a powerful peck at the necromancer’s back, knocking him off his feet. Garth went head first rolling over the pavement.
But Scarecrow... he exploded. Not just exploded but he took Garth with him too, tearing his body from inside.
Garth’s mangled frame froze on the cobblestones amid a flurry of blotches of darkness which flowed toward each other and began joining up, forming a black bird. The resurrected phoenix emitted a triumphant crow and soared back up in the sky to the amazement of all.
I cracked a crooked grin and barged back into the inn. By then, the vampires had already finished off the swordsmen and were tending to the Baron’s bone dust burns, giving him vialfuls of blood to drink.
The shaman had long been dead. Not that it had stopped Isabella who was still cudgeling his lifeless body with her staff. Blood and bits of brain flew everywhere. Talk about running amuck...
I mustered the last of my strength to scramble to the nearest table and collapsed onto a bench.
“John, you hear me?” the Count shouted defiantly. “All the loot is ours! Got it?”
