The Way of the Outcast (Mirror World Book #3) LitRPG series

by Alexey Osadchuk

  "I've come to ask for my quest," I said bluntly.

  He smirked and shook his head. "You're a funny bunny, aren't you? I already asked you to help. But no, you had more important things to do."

  I shrugged. "Sorry. But you need to understand too. I'm a warrior and you're sending me to cut down some stakes as if I'm some kind of peasant. And not only that. Every toolmaker wants a piece of me. It's as if I'm doing it for myself. There're four of you here but you have more red tape than Mellenville Treasury."

  I added this last bit about the toolmakers and red tape as an afterthought. If forum posts were to be believed, posing as an offended warrior was often enough to open a parallel quest. I even knew which one...

  He cast me a long look, then chuckled, surrendering to my logic.

  Quest alert: East Gate fortifications. Quest failed!

  I heaved a sigh of relief. It had worked.

  Not that that was a reason to celebrate. I'd just deactivated a major quest chain. Still, I couldn't do much about it. I wouldn't have been able to complete it anyway, not with all the local PKs hovering around. I wasn't in a hurry to part with my hard-earned gear.

  "Well, Sarge, do you think you have something else for me to do? Something worthy of a warrior?"

  He glared at me, then dissolved in a malicious grin. Judging by the curve of his toothless mouth, I was in for nothing good. He was fed up with me. Really fed up. Just like the forums had said he would be.

  "The valiant knight is in the mood for heroic deeds?"

  I nodded. "Why not?"

  This seemed to have really pissed him off. "Very well. Here's something you can do. Kill the lich that's hiding in the Fort. That's a nice heroic deed for you."

  He guffawed, almost hysterical, his furious glare drilling a hole in me.

  I accepted the quest and turned to leave. I certainly had no desire to say goodbye.

  "Get out of my sight!" he growled to my back. "You'd better stay away until you're done!"

  Your relationship with Sergeant Crux has plummeted!

  From now on, you have no right of entry to the village. The local NPCs don't want to know you anymore.

  Oh. This looked like a far cry from my original plan.

  Which had been so nice and simple: to perform a quest chain issued by the Sarge and other NPCs, earning XP and Reputation in the process. Then the Sarge would have issued me one last quest: to mop up the Fort which was the location's only instance. Every villager would have given me a bonus item to use while their leader would have wished me luck in my endeavor — the wish which was in fact a Life-restoring buff.

  Now I could forget all of that. All thanks to some greedy PKs.

  If the truth were known, I'd have long abandoned my old plans and sweet-talking the local NPCs. I'd have found myself an island as far from here as possible and done my farming bit there, leveling up slowly but surely. Unfortunately, there was a problem. In order to leave the Isles, I had to complete the instance — and the Sarge was the one who issued this quest. One of the rewards for smoking the lich was a single-use portal scroll allowing you to port to any location on the continent, with the exception of its capital city.

  And the lich in question was none other than the wizard from the Sarge's scary tale. The one who'd lured part of the garrison out only to return as a walking dead — or rather, a lich.

  Some people had really sick imaginations. Liches, zombies... It made me feel hopelessly dated.

  While I'd been reading up on two ways of getting the quest, I'd also researched the various ways of completing the instance. Compared to Spider Grotto it was nothing special. This was a newb location, after all.

  The instance's main (and most unpleasant) feature was that the mobs' levels, including the lich himself, could change depending on the player's own. This was the developers' way of evening up the odds.

  The instance consisted of four rooms: the gym, the kitchen, the dorm and the main hall now inhabited by the Fort's new owner. In order to simplify the task for the newbs, the lich was made vulnerable to physical damage. In other words, in order to release his soul, you only had to destroy his body. Easier said than done.

  Predictably, all the rooms and corridors were packed with all sorts of undead critters. There were some pleasant surprises there, too, like treasure stashes.

  As for the strategy and tactics... they weren't as straightforward. Ideally, you would do it in a group of five. But seeing as I was alone, I'd have to go there on my own. Never mind. I had a few surprises for the undead army.

  I walked out of the village without looking back. I wasn't ever going to return. I didn't feel too sorry about my failure to complete the "proper" quest chain. The more time I spent in the game, the better I was beginning to realize that not all was going hunky-dory in Mirror World. Not for me, anyway.

  * * *

  The Fort was situated on the central island, the largest of them all. I'd done a bit of research on it even though I'd never actually seen any images. Which I should have done.

  As Boris approached the island, I expected to see some semblance of a village: a rotting stockade, listing watchtowers, that sort of thing.

  Nothing of the kind.

  When the gray rain clouds parted, revealing the looming outline of stone towers and narrow arrowslits, I nearly jumped. For a moment I thought that my satnav had taken me back to the Citadel. The resemblance was striking.

  Actually, it was logical. Both fortresses had been built by one and the same architect. I'd forgotten all about it.

  I stroked Boris' neck. "Don't land yet," I whispered in his ear. "Make a few more circles over the fortress first. We need to take a good look at it."

  And the place was an eyeful, I tell you. Four giant bastions encircled by tall stone walls and a deep moat.

  Everywhere you looked, you saw signs of desolation. Oh. This wasn't the Citadel with its host of players performing cleaning and maintenance jobs as part of their social quests.

  "Now, kiddo, let's land somewhere nice and quiet. Next to those trees over there, okay?"

  Boris spread his wings wide and glided down. Slingshot at the ready, I turned my head like an owl, ready to tell Boris to climb back up at any moment.

  We landed without a problem. Big sigh of relief. We were no more than thirty paces away from the drawbridge.

  I gave myself five minutes to take in the surroundings. Silence. Not a living soul in sight. I found it rather symbolical.

  The rain grew stronger. Black clouds blotted out the sky. Large raindrops pelted the wooden parapet covers which had once been used to protect the Fort's still-living defenders.

  Spooky.

  This was a dead fortress.

  A dead place.

  I'd better walk to the gate alone. I deactivated the summoning charms. Before disappearing, both my pets cast me disappointed looks.

  They were worse than children, really.

  The road toward the Fort was paved with large rough cobblestones. Either Zeddekey had been stingy with building materials or the road had been built after him. Patches of grass peeked through the stones. The track was dirty and abandoned.

  What a strange feeling. As I walked toward the Fort, I got the impression that the walls themselves were moving toward me, trying to devour a humble traveler. The gloomy creation of the famous architect was both amazing and scary in its boundless strength. I could only imagine what soldiers must have felt, about to storm these impervious walls. Had they been scared? Disheartened? Had they realized they couldn't possibly defeat it? A little bit of all three, I suppose. That was another thing that made Zeddekey so good. The Fort's sheer sight was enough to discourage any advancing army.

  I froze, admiring the ancient master's work. How many places like this one would I visit in Mirror World? And this was only a newb location!

  Here is was, Zeddekey's magic, in all its glory.

  Cheer up, Olgerd, old man. Not the first time.

  "Awesome, eh?"

  A c
alm voice behind my back was tinged with emotion. I swung round.

  Instinctively my left hand closed around the slingshot while my right one pulled the pouch taut. Was it a new knee-jerk reflex that I'd begun to develop? Was the bespectacled nerd finally changing? Or was it a side effect of my 72-hour non-stop farming session?

  Very possible.

  "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to frighten you."

  A player stood on the road just a few paces away from me.

  Name: Vitar

  Level 11

  Race: Human

  He raised his hands in the air in a conciliatory gesture. His arms shook with the cold rain. He only had starting pants on.

  His blue eyes betrayed a mixture of compassion and curiosity. I bet. A slingshot wasn't something they saw here often. Still, he kept his hands raised, apparently knowing that there was no such thing in Mirror World as a harmless weapon.

  I gave him a quick once-over, then switched my attention to the area around him.

  He must have understood because he hurried to add, "It's all right, don't worry. I'm here on my own. There's no danger. And as for me..."

  He spread his arms wide and turned about, splashing his bare feet through the mud, to show me he had no weapons on him. "You see, Sir Olgerd? I'm not your enemy. I hate violence, anyway."

  "You'll have to excuse me too," I said, putting the slingshot away. "This place is spooky. You need to understand..."

  "Absolutely," he said, lowering his shaking hands. "It was my fault. I should have made my presence known before addressing you."

  He walked over to me and offered his hand. "Vitar."

  "Olgerd," I answered his handshake. Our eyes met.

  Wait! This was... oh no. I was too late, wasn't I? The wizzy! They'd ripped him off, after all. Bastards!

  He must have read something in my stare because he shrank back. "Everything all right?" he asked warily.

  "Yeah, sure," I hurried to reassure him. "Did I frighten you too? Makes two of us, I suppose!"

  He smiled cautiously. "You had this face..."

  "Probably. For a moment, I thought I'd met you before. Only..." I made a show of looking him over.

  "Of course! Only I was dressed then, is that what you mean?"

  "Dressed as a fisherman."

  "Exactly! And," he raised a meaningful finger, "I was wearing that stupid wizard's hat!"

  I chuckled. "You said it. Who am I to argue?"

  He burst into a cheerful loud laughter. It looked like I'd finally met someone normal. We might make a good team, you never know.

  He must have misunderstood my stare as he hurried to explain, "Yes, yes, I'm dead broke. This is what happens when you become too full of yourself."

  I frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "Well," he said, even more humiliated, "I'm talking about my gear."

  "I understand that," I hurried to add. "But you also said something about being too full of yourself."

  "That's right," he nodded. "And might I add, I was also stupid and impatient. How can I tell you... Today I finally made level 10. And once I distributed all the new stat points, I really felt like I was some kind of Superman. The old location wasn't good enough for me anymore. So I came here and started smoking stronger mobs in my eternal wisdom. I even made another level but... I didn't even have time to celebrate the fact."

  "Your quarry struck back," I concluded.

  He sighed and scratched his rain-soaked head. I struggled not to laugh.

  What a relief. I'd really thought that those village PKs had fleeced him. I'd even suffered a guilt trip for not having warned him when I could.

  "I'll t-t-tell you m-m-more," he said, his teeth chattering, "I've b-b-been eaten th-three t-t-times... by the same m-m-monster..."

  "What do you mean, by the same monster?"

  "Th-thing was, the f-f-first time I di-died I was within the mob's aggro z-z-zone... and every time I re-resurrected, I tried to get to the chest with my stuff... But un-fortunately, he always g-g-gets to it first..."

  "I see."

  I made a mental note. This was a good lesson. At least I had Boris and Prankster who could distract any monster. Now Vitar, he hadn't been so lucky. It was pretty stupid of him to have ventured into the wilderness all on his own. At least he seemed to realize that now.

  "D-d-dear Olgerd," the guy sounded embarrassed. "I wonder if you might have a bit of time for me? The monster I'm talking about, he was only level 12. We can do him easily between the two of us. You're a Godsend. I will reimburse you in full, I assure you. My stuff is very expensive. I'd hate to lose it. It cost me really a lot... I took out a loan to get it..."

  I fingered my beard, thinking. All these extra adventures were the last thing I needed. On the other hand, how could I leave him without help? Okay, he'd been a bit greedy and paid for it — but he'd learned from his mistakes. I couldn't just turn round and leave him to his misery, could I?

  I made up my mind. "What kind of mob is it?"

  "It's an Armor-Faced Copperhead!" Vitar exclaimed, relieved. "Level 12! Between the two of us, we won't even feel it! He's nothing against us two!"

  He cheered up, apparently reading my determination, very nearly pulling me into the forest by the sleeve.

  "Wait a bit," I chilled him down. "I haven't agreed to it yet."

  He kept grinning, knowing I wasn't going to let him down.

  I ran a quick check of the bestiary. That's right. An Armor-Faced Copperhead, level 12. A fifteen-foot snake. Its abilities included a Venomous Bite: a nasty debuff aiming to gradually reduce the player's Life. I could actually try and smoke it. If push came to shove, I could always summon Boris.

  I nodded. "All right. I'm gonna help you. Only let's make it quick. I've got lots of things to do. Where is it?"

  Vitar very nearly jumped with joy. "Excellent! I'll owe you! It's over there..." he darted into the forest, showing me the way.

  Darted was an overstatement, what with his starting clothes and all. Still, he moved much faster than I ever would in that kind of "gear". Apparently, being a Fisherman, he'd been leveling up Speed.

  "Follow me!" he shouted, parting the undergrowth with his hands. "Follow me! It's right over there!"

  What's with all the shouting? Didn't he realize he'd attract all the snakes in the area? He must have gone slightly off his trolley with joy.

  His bare back zigzagged in front of me. I had no problem keeping up with him but he barged on so recklessly that I began to lag behind. Soon he disappeared amid the greenery.

  Following the sound of his voice, I leapt across a dirty puddle of water, ducked a bramble's greedy branches and promptly avoided the sharp bone-like limbs of a rain-drenched tree that resembled a fish skeleton.

  Finally I reached a gap in the undergrowth where he'd disappeared only moments ago. I ducked in.

  "I'm here!" he hollered at the top of his voice.

  What was wrong with him? No, my first impression of him might have been totally wrong. I'd help him now quickly, then I'd be on my way. He was way too loud.

  The first thing I noticed when I ran out into the clearing was the sheer number of chests lying in the grass. I saw at least five of them.

  Vitar's behavior was strange, too. He stood at the other end of the clearing with his back to me — still hollering, telling all the forest that he was here.

  And where was his mob?

  I was about to ask when my body rose into the air, as if I was a fly stuck in some invisible jelly.

  The system message descended on me like a ton of bricks:

  Warning! Player Spitfire has cast a spell on you: Air Web!

  Effect: You're immobilized

  Duration: 15 sec

  My attempt to open the inventory failed miserably. The summoning charms were also unavailable. How on earth had I managed to get into this?!

  In the meantime, two more figures materialized at the center of the clearing.

  Their name tags were red. Class: Robbers. Both wer
e Alves. Both levels 20+. Nicknames: Sting and Gray.

  My desperate attempt to struggle free proved pointless. That was it, then. As that guy in the Bible had said, "What I feared has come upon me".

  I wanted to warn the wizzy and tell him to run when Gray's angry shout made me choke on my words.

  "Vitar, you idiot! Shut up!"

  Vitar swung round and dropped to his knees, whining, "Guys, please! You promised! You said you'd give me everything back! I did bring him to you, didn't I? Please!"

  "Shut your filthy mouth," a third voice barked from behind my back. "What a pain in the ass."

  "Spitfire, I want you to refresh the spell," the same voice ordered. "I don't feel like chasing him around the woods."

  "It's all right, Boss," an invisible female voice replied from my right. "It's all under control. We still have a few seconds."

  "Refresh it, I said! I need a word with him."

  Warning! Player Spitfire has cast a spell on you: Air Web!

  Effect: You're immobilized

  Duration: 15 sec

  Dammit! Just when I was readying myself to make a dart for the undergrowth.

  Heavy squelching footsteps approached me from my right. The huge fanged head of a Rhoggh loomed up before me. His deeply set bestial eyes studied me as if I was his property. His wide jaws stretched in a grin, exposing two rows of sharp teeth.

  Oh wow. Level 32! For a moment I'd forgotten my desperate situation. How long had he spent in this location? What kind of mobs had he used to level up?

  His nickname — Gloom — glowed a fiery red.

  "Just look at this nice juicy dude!" he barked.

  "What do you want?" I asked. How very smart of me. I'm a master of the stupid question.

  "What do I want?" he asked with theatrical surprise. "Same as everybody else, I suppose. To love and be loved!"