by Mars Dorian
Moola nodded. “Potions make the world spin around.”
That girl lived in a dimension of her own. I was almost done with the deal when a box-shaped, mechanized tool came into view. It looked like a chain-carrying grapple hook, but my intuition knew better. “Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”
Moola grinned and exposed her milky teeth. “It’s a Harpoon gun glove.”
The Aeons had heard my prayers. I didn’t have enough cash, so I sold all the stuff that I collected from my enemies—except for the armor and the gunblade of course. Together with the money I earned from my previous quests, I could barely afford the item that flooded my mouth with saliva.
Weapon: Harpoon gun glove
Type: Mid-range chaining device
Quality: Good
Cooldown: 15 seconds
Ability: ‘Bind’ enemy slowdown up to 35%, depending on player and enemy level
> Pull effect if enemy’s weight is at least 20% below that of the player’s
Yes, yes, yes. I couldn’t wait to use this baby during a quest.
“Please stay alive,” Moola said. “The world needs you.”
“Me or my wallet?”
Her smile doubled. “Dead customers are bad for biz.”
“So I’ve heard.”
Packed to the gills, I waved goodbye to her and crossed the plaza again, setting my eyes on the stable. Balzac had given me permission to choose a red-feathered fowl with incredible speed stats. My bestiary flapped open and showcased the data points of the running bird. Unlike the more aggressive raptor fowls, this running bird couldn’t fight, but since this region of Fourlando featured mostly plains, hills, and the Hope Road, speed and agility ranked higher than fighting skills. With the flaming fowl’s attributes, I could outrun my enemies like a roadrunner.
Meep meep.
I mounted the fowl, adjusted myself in the saddle, and pulled the reins. I galloped out of the stable and left the hidden mountain village behind. I hurried down the steep path until I reached the lower valley. Another look at the map made me think; the temple site was embedded into the mountain range and existed about a dozen kilometers away from my current position. The Hope Road counted as the most reliable path toward the holy sanctuary, but with the recent bandit and scavenger attacks, I feared an ambush. No problem when part of a highly-equipped squad, but a single WarTech like me with little fowl fighting and riding experience could face virtual death. An unnecessary risk with little reward.
No, I ditched the main road and chose to sprint across the Great Plains. And boy, was Balzac right; the speed fowl blasted across the grassy hills like a feathered rocket. Meep meep indeed. I could feel the turbulence shaking up my helmet and gloves. If this was the real world, I would have fallen off my saddle as the animal’s strong legs propelled the sprinting bird forward like a meaty rocket. Needless to say, I reached the destination in no time.
The sight took my breath away.
47
A rocky, holy place carved into a canyon-like valley. Dusty winds blew over the crowds. Hundreds of pilgrims, dressed in colorful attire that hung down their chest, gathered around groups. They wore stuffy crowns, beautiful scarves, and even gloves. Some carried banners or staffs, probably not for attack purposes. The crowded place reminded me of a bazaar with the cheering and noises of haggling. Most followers had joined their group leaders or bought fresh veggies and grilled meat from the snack stands. I spotted a few players in the crowd, either looking for unique items to buy or partaking in a similar quest. Since Balzac ordered me to go alone, I couldn’t join or invite other players, so I ignored them and focused on the sight. The rugged road led into an impressive temple entrance supported by massive round-shaped pillars. It looked as if the installation was built into the canyon and led deep inside. The earthy, orange tone of the surface material contrasted with the perfect, blue sky high above.
I pushed myself through the crowds and looked for the NPC who would trigger my quest. A few meters next to the temple entrance stood two pilgrims, waiting like undelivered packages. A young woman with a braid carried a staff and shifted her eyes around nervously. A green exclamation mark floated next to her head. Bingo.
“Hey, you two.”
Both of the pilgrims shivered upon hearing my voice.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m from—”
I halted midway. I was not supposed to openly admit my connection to the Blue Flame since Sunbleeder spies lurked everywhere around the mainland. And since the resistance group was considered a terrorist cell, I risked exposing them, and myself. Thankfully, the pilgrims played their part of the deal. The young woman’s voice grew serious. “What do you think about the weather?”
I looked up at the endless blue sky when Balzac’s cryptic answer shot up in my mind. Thank tech the log of my e-scroll recorded every tip and event.
“Cloudy, with a chance of blue rain,” I said.
She nodded slightly and exposed a faint smile. “Sorry about the reaction, but you looked like a paramilitary warrior.”
I’ve heard that these pilgrims avoided violence at any cost, believing that any harm done to other people and animals would reflect back on them in the afterlife. It reminded me of real religions from the offline world.
“How can I help you?”
She looked nervously around as if to spot eavesdropper. “As you can see, the cloister has been temporarily closed due to a minor inconvenience.”
“If it was a minor inconvenience, you wouldn’t shut down the whole cloister, right?”
“Your mind is sharp, warrior.”
“I like to notice things.”
She nodded. “One of our high priests had entered the cloister this morning and failed to return. Rumor has it that he closed himself in the holy chamber, but we don’t know why.”
It sounded harmless. I was beginning to believe this quest was below my skill level. The mission should have been renamed ‘old geezer gone missing’.
“So why haven’t you checked?”
“We did,” the young man next to the girl said. “A few followers entered the cloister and never returned.”
The woman, well, it was really an older girl, shared the young man’s grave voice. “We heard their screams permeating the walls. A lot of pilgrims now believe the cloister has been cursed and refuse to enter. That’s why we shut down the entrance until further notice.”
Hmm. The situation sounded more interesting by the second. A mysterious case involving lost pilgrims and screams of terror? My kind of questing.
“Sign me up.”
“For what?”
“I mean I’m ready to enter if you are.”
The two young followers exchanged befuddled glances with each other. “But aren’t you afraid?”
“There’s nothing to fear but fear itself.” Besides, I was starving for some experience. Time to clean the cloister of whatever evil was lurking inside.
“You’re a brave one.”
“How do I get around?”
“We’ll have to follow you. The architecture is confusing, to say the least. You will need a guide to explain the chambers.”
The two young followers asked their elder priest for permission and joined my walk toward the closed entrance. Two guards wearing light armor carried some sort of pikes, which they crossed to prevent anyone from passing through. The young female follower stepped forward with defiance. “He’s the help we’ve been looking for. Please let us through.”
The two parted sideways like statues and remained silent. My eyes lost themselves in the darkness of the opening gate as the void greeted me with ice cold silence. Some faint noise rang out but I couldn’t pinpoint the direction.
The young followers, kids really, hid behind my back and gibbered. “Are you sure you want to do this, sir?”
I had never seen NPC kids that afraid before. Not even the girl from the ranch defense quest had shivered as much as my temporary companions.
&n
bsp; “You’ll be safe,” I said.
“Hopefully with you we will be.”
Whatever they feared must have been a serious threat. I rechecked my charges, unsheathed my gunblade and stepped into the opening.
48
My boots stepped on a stony ground leading along walls graced with beautiful paintings of pilgrims and creatures I had never seen before. Torches burned on either side of the majestic walls and basked the hallway in warm light. In the far distance, I noticed a pedestal with some kind shrine on top. I stepped forward and made sure I walked the center line of the hallway. My eyes rotated left and right where canvases crafted from shards told an ancient story about the history of Fourlando, if not the universe. “Amazing artwork, that’s for sure.”
The girl nodded behind me. “Wall drawings like these used to grace temples and cloisters all over Fourlando, but with the rise of the Syndicate the art died.”
“Why are Sunbleeders against your religion? You’re pacifists, right?”
“The Syndicate doesn’t believe in higher powers. They claim our religion corrupts the mind and leads people astray from real life issues.”
That line made me chuckle. “Sunbleeders accusing others of corruption? That’s rich.”
The boy chimed in. “Our people have always been detached from Fourlando’s political parties. We simply want to be left alone and promise not to interfere with anyone’s business.”
The girl spoke up now. It sounded like they were finishing off each other’s sentences. “Although I’m not in favor of imperial rule, I have to admit that our religion fared better under the Beltar Empire. At least they tolerated our temples and rituals.”
“Well, those times aren’t ever coming back.”
The two frowned and dipped their heads like children being denied their Christmas presents.
“Let’s focus on the moment. It’s all we have.”
I finally stopped in front of the altar on the pedestal; an artistic sculpture covered with engravings, similar to ancient pottery. I could have spent an hour just drooling at the amazing murals and hand drawings from the ancient times. The more I learned about the Crystal Crusade’s rich game lore, the more it fascinated me. But I needed experience and level-ups, not to mention that mechanized mid-rare item. “What do I have to do now?”
“This is a well where you have to offer a sacrifice.” Her finger pointed toward a gate in front of us. “This door will open after you’re done giving.”
I ran my finger along the dull back of my gunblade. “So which one of you I have to behead for the sacrifice?”
The two stepped back with eyes bigger than the moon. O-shaped mouths all the way.
“Jeez, I’m just kidding.”
It took them five seconds to calm down. I knew they were NPCs, but they reacted like uptight East Coast kids spoiled by private schools. “You both are too serious for your age. It’s time to crack open that serious shell and let the fun in.”
The girl’s face contorted into a grimace that sported more wrinkles than an overripe orange.
“Excuse me, sir. We’re a marginalized religious group being persecuted by an oppressive regime.” She lifted her tiny fingers and air quoted. “There’s nothing fun about that.”
“Ask my father’s grandparents before they were gassed. They thought they were taking a group shower when the poison cloud dropped from the ceiling.”
The kids’ eyes grew twice in size. “That’s horrifying. Who did that—the Sunbleeder Syndicate?”
“Not really, although the initials are the same.”
Maybe now wasn’t the time to teach the dark history of the real world. I looked at my inventory and glanced over the items. I would never sacrifice an important armor piece or unique weapon. But I could ditch one charge or exploda. Ugh. I really loved that item, but I wanted to finish this quest. I wanted to win Balzac’s trust.
“Goodbye, exploda.”
The charge disappeared into the hole of the well with a clonk. Seconds passed before the gate wall lifted and teased us in. The girl grasped my arm. “We must warn you. The cloister is filled with trickery chambers that test the trespasser. It’s all part of the trial.”
Great. Why couldn’t they just build a holy place like in the real world where people only had to take off their shoes and donate some coins? Everything in Fourlando had to be spiked with traps.
“Hurry up.”
With the gunblade raised and my traps ready, I marched into the first room. A decorated chamber with even more intricate carvings on the wall awaited me. I wondered what those pilgrims would normally do in these rooms. The boy pointed his shivering finger below me where blood smeared the ground. A man-sized hole fractured the opposite wall, leading into a room with even more holes. My eyes scanned the area and tried to find the culprit, but whoever did this wasn’t here. If only the corpses could talk…
I knelt next to a body and inspected the skin and attire. Young pilgrims, judging by their clothes and sizes.
The boy behind me looked away. He bent his body over, ready to puke. The girl remained calm and focused her stare. She tiptoed toward the nearest corpse when I held her back. “Maybe you shouldn’t see this.”
“Those are our brothers and sisters.”
“Not literally, right?”
The girl knelt in front of two young dead pilgrims, mumbled something inaudible and gestured with her fingers; maybe some prayer to transition the ghosts into the afterworld. Meanwhile, the boy hunkered behind me, shaking his head.
“Are you okay?”
He nodded with bloated cheeks and groaned. I swore he turned green. “It’s okay if you let it all out, just make sure you don’t aim at me, alright?”
He covered his mouth and faced the ground away from me. The girl followed the destructive path of the chambers and inspected every corpse along the way.
“Hey, I told you to stay close.”
I hurried after her. I knew she was just an NPC, but damn, these characters felt so real. Like their lives really depended on my protection. When the girl prayed in front of the last corpse, I tried to cheer her up. “At least we don’t have to solve any stupid puzzles, right?”
She threw me a disturbed glance and marched on.
“Okay, bad comment. But the intention was pure, I swear.”
She held still in the middle of the fourth or fifth room and pointed toward an adjacent space. “This is the books and reproductions chamber and is connected to the main chapel.”
I whistled the boy over and treaded into the space. The stored scriptures and books remained free of damage. Hundreds of tomes rested in their decorative shelves, waiting to be read and snoozed upon. Whoever broke in here wasn’t keen on robbing the library. The girl was about to traverse the doorframe to the adjacent chapel when I motioned her to stay back. Her curiosity levels roared off the charts and reminded me of a certain someone.
“Move behind me.”
“But we need to hurry up.”
“For once, listen to me. You asked for my help, now let me do my job.”
“Fine.”
She joined her friend and shadowed my steps into the main chapel. I prepared for major trouble.
49
I took the lead and stepped into the chapel first. Some kind of altar towered in the middle of the chamber. Crusted blood smeared its engraved surface. The sight looked atrocious, even to me. I stepped closer with my gunblade pointed toward the mess and inspected every corner of the room. The girl ran up to the bloody mess.
“What happened here?”
“Stay close.”
A vibration jostled through my VR set. Felt like a defect, except the young pilgrims shivered as well. With their smaller build and lack of armor, they struggled to stand.
“Ugh, what’s that?” the boy said.
“Are there any earthquakes around here?”
“None,” the girl said.
A screech echoed through the chamber. It sounded feral and painful, like a m
echanized klaxon mangled by a bitten animal. A four-legged creature fell off the ceiling and landed on its claws. It looked like an odd mix between an oversized crap and a reptile. A crystalline armor protected its weak spots. The creature screeched and raised its elongated claws.
Enemy: Four-legged Thornbasher
Type: Reepotile
HP: 1075 base + 320 armor crust: Armor
Medium carapace, blocks 25% of light-to-medium melee damage, +4 protection
>weight: 225 kg
Special: Hard crust shell, thorn scale darts
Weakness: ???
Drops: ???
Crap. So much for the analyzer function; finding the weakness mattered more than anything else. Regardless of whatever caused it, I had to act now.
The boy snapped a torch from the wall and threw it against the monster’s cretin armor. Zero damage, of course.
“Don’t do that,” I yelled. “The beast is probably immune to fire damage.”
“How do you know?”
Thanks to my analyzing targeting icon, of course, but an NPC wouldn’t understand. “Experience.”
The creature crawled straight toward the kids which I had to avoid at all costs. I aimed at the creature’s head, usually the weak spot of any fiend, and fired off a pellet blast with my gunblade. Minimal damage chipped away the Thornbasher’s health; its natural carapace functioned as a bulletproof armor and diminished most it. I chose my close-combat melee stance instead and swung my blade at the creature. Its shelled front legs swung toward me and shielded the Thornbasher’s head from my swing. My blade bounced off the claw with a dull sound and pushed me back a couple of meters.
Useless.
The creature stormed after me, producing hissing sounds. I unleashed a volley of slashes and tried to attack the creature’s front from every position. All my attacks were in vain; the creature’s reflexes matched mine. Its crustaceous front legs countered my every swing with ease.
Meanwhile, the pilgrim girl and boy had crawled into a corner and supported my fight with ‘useful’ shouts.
