The Long Road to Karn (Realm of Arkon, Book 5)

by Akella, G.

  You have 9 talent points to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

  You have 27 stat points to allocate.

  Several dozen healing spells fell on me at once, dispersing the milky-red fog from in front of my eyes, and I felt as if a tsunami of deafening sounds and pungent smells crashed into me. The pain receded slowly. The barrier had faded with the monster's death, leaving a dark furrow in its stead. Across the line I glimpsed Reece rush over and catch Vaessa collapsing to the pavement in apparent exhaustion. My troops surrounded me in an instant. In a darkly ironic twist, the blade still clutched by my hand was sticking out of Erisjat's eye-socket—only this time the monster was truly, irreversibly dead. Wincing with pain that still hadn't fully abated, I struggled up to my feet, and put a boot on the gray monster's mug, distorted in a deathly grimace.

  "That's for symmetry's sake, you jackass," I wheezed, pulling the sword out of the popped eye-socket. The body of the former Lord of Craedia jerked, then crumbled to the stones like grains of sand. No loot then, huh? I sighed. Oh, the hell with loot! At least this is finally over.

  "Are you all right, dar?" Salta's voice was quivering, her eyes glistening suspiciously.

  "Quite all right," I winked to my sworn sister, then looked around at the exuberant faces of the demons surrounding me, stopping eventually on Elnar.

  "Casualties?"

  "Twenty six," the tifling gave a heavy sigh. "Arrows from the walls were fired at near point-blank range. If only we knew..."

  "I didn't let him finish, giving a nod to Gorm and starting slowly to the mangled body of the arachnid.

  The numbers weren't tragic by any standard; in fact, capturing the princedom's main citadel with such minuscule losses should net medals for every senior officer. Besides, I still held out hope on account of my Pact with the Great Darkness. Speaking of Celphata, I didn't know what it was exactly she'd done, but if it weren't for her... And then there was the Cheney bombshell—why would he ally himself with a god who'd made himself an enemy of virtually everybody else? Adam was the worst kind of scumbag, no doubt, but an idiot he was not, to my chagrin. And that made me nervous, because clearly he was getting something out of it...

  I leaned over the carcass and touched the chitinous cephalothorax, peeking inside. Two epic healer chestguards, a dozen and a half rares, and a score of alchemical reagents for Schen to sort out. The only item I cared about was the small coal-black egg. Raising the symbol of Craedia over my head, I crushed it in my hand. The triumphant music that sounded, reminiscent of my former world, made me grimace. I scoffed and began reading the system messages flashing before my eyes.

  Congratulations! Your party has successfully managed to capture the settlement of Craedia! [Demon Grounds, Craedia Princedom] [Citadel. Category 8].

  Your party has received a bonus of 50,000 gold for capturing the settlement.

  Your party has received a bonus of 300 victory points for capturing the settlement.

  Attention! The Craedia Princedom's control menu will become available after you defend the main stronghold of the princedom, the Craedia Citadel, from enemy troops remaining on the princedom's territory.

  Attention! The victory points earned at the completion of the continental event will be credited after you defend the main stronghold of the princedom, the Craedia Citadel, from enemy troops remaining on the princedom's territory.

  Your clan has gained a level!

  The Steel Wolves clan is now level 7.

  Now available: clan treasury upgrade to level 7. Clan membership limit increased to 2000 sentient beings.

  The morale of your party has risen by +20 points. Your party's current morale is +64 (a 64% increase to your party members' physical and magic damage).

  Attention! In 24:00:00 the captured settlement will be attacked by the undead that remain on the territory of the Craedia Princedom.

  Your clan has gained a level!

  ……………………………………….

  Your clan has gained a level!

  The Steel Wolves clan is now level 10.

  Now available: clan treasury upgrade to level 10. Clan membership limit increased to unlimited number of sentient beings. Accepting non-player characters into the clan is now possible without changing their skills and stats; all the available options are available in the control menu of any territory held by the clan.

  You have gained a level! Current level: 220.

  You have 10 talent points to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

  You have 30 stat points to allocate.

  You have gained a level!

  …

  You have gained a level!

  …

  You have gained a level! Current level: 230.

  You have 20 talent points to allocate.

  Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

  You have 60 stat points to allocate.

  Your Demonic Rage Form I has been transformed to Demonic Rage Form II.

  Demonic Rage Form II. Unique skill. Duration: unlimited. When in Demonic Rage Form II, maximum protection against all types of damage is increased by 5%, up to 95% maximum value. Infernal Rage is transformed to Infernal Rage I. Aura of Horror is transformed to Aura of Horror I. Furthermore, your armor class, physical and mental damage are increased by 30%.

  Note that this combat form is not final, and may undergo additional transformations in the future.

  Aura of Horror I.

  Instant cast.

  Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  Requires Demonic Rage Form II.

  The blood of a true Lord starts to boil in you, and a Fright effect is applied to all hostile sentient creatures without mental protection within a 50 yard radius, causing them to flee in terror. The duration of the effect is determined by the mental resistance of creatures affected by Aura of Horror. With a resistance of zero, the effect lasts 60 seconds.

  Infernal Rage I.

  Instant cast.

  Cooldown: 5 minutes.

  Requires Demonic Rage Form II.

  The elder demon falls into a frenzy for 30 seconds, with every physical and mental attack inflicting critical damage.

  Upon activating Infernal Rage I, the elder demon is rid of all stun, fear and immobilization effects, and becomes invulnerable to them for the duration of the spell.

  You have earned a new title, Prince of the Free Princedom of Craedia. You can now command any groups of sentient NPCs who are your subjects. Moreover, you can command other NPC squads of up to 5000 creatures. You and the fighters under your command are further granted a 20% increase to maximum HP, mana and vigor.

  The screeching of iron distracted me from contemplating the running lines of text. Putting the menu away, I turned around... and my jaw began to slowly fall to the floor despite myself. Standing perfectly still not thirty feet away, Gorm went down to one knee, his head bowed reverentially. Elias quickly followed, and then James, Salta and Vaessa, fully recovered by now, and then Reece... Hart, what the hell was going on?! This was only a game!!! At least it... used to be a game. Looking down on what was happening below from the top of the donjon, Kan Shyom bared his blade in a welcoming gesture. As for me... I just stood there, without a clue as to what to say or do. But I had to at least say something! It seemed so important to everyone present...

  "I accept your oath, warriors!" I spoke slowly, accentuating every syllable. "And I swear to you in return to defend this land with my life! To keep the laws and honor the gods that favor us. And I further swear to pay back the bastard whose cronies have ravaged this princedom and flooded it with hordes of undead. And my vengeance shall make the white-haired bastard envious of his own victims' lots! You have my word!"

  One mustn't throw words to the wind in this realm of magic and math. Oaths, once spoken, must be fulfilled. And if my words sounded a tad sanguine, that didn't bother me none, as I was armed with plenty of time and an insatiable desire to punish the scum whose
very existence defied logic innate to any intelligent being, who drew power from the suffering inflicted on others... You said it yourself, Vill, this world isn't so big... And here, not even gods are immortal.

  "My prince," Elnar's voice brought back to reality. "What would you—"

  "Stop!" I didn't let him finish, then spoke up so that everybody could hear, amplifying my voice with magic. "James, absolutely nothing has changed since I became a prince. I didn't even grow a second tail, so leave 'my prince,' 'my lord' and the like for fancy balls with fancy folk who give a damn what you call them. Address me the same way as before! The same goes for all of you. Dar, Krian, Dark One... I've grown rather partial to those monikers, so let's stick to them."

  In point of fact, my plea wasn't entirely logical since "dar" was a common form of address to any noble, similar to "sir" back on Earth, and would suffice perfectly for any lord. Having no grand delusions or an inflated sense of worth, I was just fine making do without all the ceremonial song-and-dance.

  "We await your orders, then. Dark One," the tifling's face spread into a smile.

  "Collect the loot and hand it in to Schen for allocation. And make sure to comb through everything," I grinned at him. "Dismissed!"

  The knights and mages had in the meantime descended from the pyramid. After Craedia's capture, all the Xantarrians that had accompanied Gorm here were automatically accepted into the raid, and since reputation in a raid party was measured by the raid leader, I needn't fear any infighting between the demon and human races.

  "I was wrong, demon," Raena spoke loudly as she approached. "Our teacher, Monsieur Altus, could not have taken on an unworthy apprentice. I humbly ask that you not begrudge me this blunder."

  "We're all good," I smiled at her. "Monsieur did warn me of your temperamental personality. Frankly, I'd have been shocked if you reacted any differently."

  "Dark One! Could we talk for a minute?" Having fully recovered from the battle, Vaessa was looking at me rather strangely. If I didn't know the head priestess, I might have thought she were no older than ten-twelve years old. The magus' eyes were shining with the exuberance of a young girl who had just gotten a doll for her birthday—and not just any doll, but the kind she'd been dreaming about since toddlerhood.

  "Is it urgent?"

  "Yes! Very! I'll wait for you up there!" Gesturing up at the fortress wall, the young woman spun on her heels and started toward the stairs.

  "We must talk as well, knight-commander. I'll be free in five minutes, and..." I shifted my gaze to Kan Shyom, and stopped short right there. The way the warrior was watching Vaessa ascend those stairs left no doubt that the warrior had lost this battle before it had even begun.

  "Err... I... Of course," exhaled the knight-commander. "My prince, I had no idea you had Celphata's head priestess in your squad. Would it be too brazen of me to ask me to introduce you... I mean..." Stumbling over his own words, the warrior looked helplessly at the smirking foxes and mages around him, gave a heavy sigh and shifted his eyes back at me.

  "Knight-commander, I will be sure to introduce you to Vaessa dar Luan, magus of dark magic and necromancy. Later." I nodded to him with an impassive face, then turned and followed after the necromancer's daughter, struggling to hold back a smile.

  "Remember that night, you asked me to tell you when it happened?" the priestess asked at the sound of bones being crushed by my boots, without turning around. "Well, look..."

  Straightening her back and gazing up at the sky, she spread her arms, palms facing out, and began to raise them—gradually, with visible effort. Darkness enshrouded her wrists, and the bones of slain skeletons strewn all over the ground began to swirl, as if pulled in by an invisible vortex.

  "Holy..." I exhaled when the vortex of bones began to take the shape of a macabre creature. Standing on four legs, ten feet at the shoulder, with an elongated skull and eyes glowing a sorcerous blue color, a pair of stunted wings and twenty million HP—the necromancer's daughter had summoned her first bone dragon. Hart, how had I missed this? The magus had dinged 351! Celphata's manifestation into her high priestess had apparently left a mark. The strange thing was that the last time around Vaessa's level hadn't grown. Perhaps because she hadn't yet become the priestess of the Goddess of Death at the time?

  The dragon "hatchling," in the meantime, waddled over to its mommy like a baby chic. Embracing the monster around the neck, the magus turned to me, her face beaming pure, unadulterated joy.

  "Isn't he adorable?" she smiled, looking up at the dragon's massive bone muzzle. "I'll call this one George. And his brother will be Michael... You don't mind, do you?"

  Great! This was to be my penance for sharing with her that story from my past life. Back when I was managing the sales department, I was in charge of four women and two guys—one named George, and the other Michael. And nobody gave the matter a second thought until one day a particular buyer came into the office and, upon being introduced to the sales team, started giggling like a madwoman before breaking into a surprisingly pleasant enough rendition of Careless Whisper. Our department was never the same afterward... But the hell with that—twenty million HP was badass! Alongside her Hanteryon's Claw and four pieces of set armor, my good friend was gradually turning into a formidable raid boss.

  "He's a real doll," I hastened to reassure the magus.

  "Dar! Look!" Looking away from her darling dragon, Vaessa gestured down below.

  There, rounding the corner of the donjon, holding his girlfriend's hand and glancing around warily, was my chief scout, alongside a dozen other resurrected soldiers. Catching Ivar's eyes, I smiled and threw up my hand in a greeting. No longer was I daunted by the prospect of rebuffing hundreds of thousands of walking dead before our claim to the province was confirmed. We would rebuff them! Now that the Great Darkness had honored our pact, bringing my troops back from the dead as promised, it was only a matter of time!

  Chapter 4

  As the evening fell and the sun drew closer to the horizon, the clouds overhanging the distant forest were painted every shade of red. I was sitting on a broken rock atop of the donjon, letting the eastern breeze caress my face while watching the sunset in rumination. This was my third time here, and I liked this visit much better than the previous two. This time the sky was the normal color blue, the roof wasn't flooded with blood and hundreds of disfigured human corpses. Even the bodies of death knights from the castle garrison had been unceremoniously dumped over the top by my men after being looted.

  The getare were working to fortify the castle gates, cussing and telling jokes so bawdy they would make every construction worker from New York to Moscow blush. Supervised by Saverus, the earth mages were closing the breaches in the walls. Gorm, Elias, Elnar and Kan Shyom were overseeing the construction of a field camp, since nobody wanted to sleep in the ruined barracks. As usual, everybody had a job but me. Having given my consent to all of my officers' suggestions with thoughtful-looking nods, I awarded Kan Shyom and Saverus their rightful share of the bounty, issued important orders that weren't particularly needed, then proceeded up to the donjon roof. Let them think that I was supervising everyone from here...

  I wasn't at all worried by the impending attack of the undead army—we would have little trouble rebuffing any attack from behind the citadel walls. How many undead remained in Craedia, anyway? A hundred thousand? Two hundred? Saverus had promised to close up the breaches within a day, and these undead weren't anything like the Overlord's army. Skeletons in the 150-200 level range, led by a few dozen regular bosses and three-four raid ones? Hell, Altus' mages and foxes could probably wipe them out even without my help. No, I was troubled by something else—the fact that from here on I would be on my own again. First stop would be Sarykas, the capital of Rualt Dominion, to hand in the jewelry case to master whatshisname, then off to Ahriman's private library in Iskhart. I couldn't take my troops out of the princedom, unfortunately, and taking along Saverus' or Kan Shyom's people would be foolish. In fact, desp
ite my reputation gains, dragging into Alcmehn an army that hardly bore any warm feelings for the Overlord responsible for their three-century slumber would be the height of foolishness. And, strangely enough, both Kan Shyom and Saverus had agreed with me on this. The only two of the command brass I'd had to dissuade were Vaessa and Reece, both of whom were just dying to follow me to Rualt. In the end, I had to yell at them both and solemnly swear to take them with me to Karn when the time came. And then my head mage had managed to surprise me yet again—noticing the way the foxes' commander was looking at his sworn sister, he'd put his usual tomfoolery aside and kept on his best behavior at the council meeting. Well, at least that's over with, I sighed and produced my pipe from inventory. After the undead attack is fought off, I'll use all the victory points on restoring the princedom, then build a portal to Ballan. From there it's a stone's throw to Rualt.

  I hadn't bothered much with talents this time around. Lousy mage that I was, I simply raised my main attacks to the twelfth tier, consuming twenty available points. Then, after a brief deliberation, I threw the rest into Power of Earth, increasing the duration of Earth Shackles by five seconds and the damage on Stone Disc by ten percent. But it wasn't talent distribution that had brought me up on the roof.

  I unsheathed my new weapon, laid it across my knees, and began to examine it. How amazing is this... I thought with a smile, caressing the blade tenderly with my fingers. What man wouldn't be ecstatic to score such a weapon? Holding it in my hand was almost like holding a woman you loved... A straight, double-edged blade nearly three and a half feet long, and a cross guard ornamented with a fanciful pattern. The sandpapery hilt ended in a pommel that had an empty slot, ostensibly for some kind of stone. How could anyone—even a divine being—be responsible for crafting such beauty?! "Ruination..." I whispered the menacing name of my new sword. "Hart, but I like that! Anyway, you're mine now so we'll have plenty of time for me to whisper sweet nothings to you—in the meantime, let's see about boosting you..." Taking out the vial with Shaartakh's saliva, I broke it against the blade... and swore with exasperation several seconds later when the weapon's stats hadn't changed. Which was odd, since the customary sound of the vial breaking meant the potion had been used correctly. Maybe one vial just isn't enough for a sword this badass? I thought with a grunt, and reached for the next vial. It wasn't until the fifth, second-to-last vial that my gamble paid off, as sharp orange runes began to manifest on the blade, culminating in a brilliant emerald-green flash that illuminated the entire roof of the donjon. "Goddamn! Warn me next time so I'll have a welder's mask ready!" I exhaled, blinking rapidly to recover my vision before giving a reassuring wave to the getare craning their necks below. Then I focused my eyes on the sword.