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

by Alexey Osadchuk

  I cast a look around. No one. Aggravation from another clan was the last thing I needed now. Rightie had a point. What an idiot I was! Then again, how had I been supposed to know that the brief mention of my name in the chat would have created so many waves?

  I was about to summon Boris when a voice came from above,

  "Sir Olgerd? Mind talking to me for a moment?"

  I looked up. A level-90 Warrior stood on a small fancy balcony. Nickname: Leosant. His clan logo sported the head of a panther baring its teeth. A Predator.

  I cast a quick look around.

  "You don't need to worry. We're alone. My men are waiting for you by the front door."

  "What do you want from me?" I asked, my mind rushing. It looked like I might need to summon my entire menagerie.

  Leosant leaned against the balcony, looking relaxed. "That's funny. That's exactly what my leaders wanted to ask you."

  "You can tell your leaders I'm just visiting. I came here to sell some loot and do a bit of shopping."

  "I see," he said, sounding bored. "Is that it?"

  "It certainly is."

  "Good," the Predator stood up.

  I felt like a coiled spring, ready to jump into action.

  "In that case," he continued, "my leaders have a message for you, just in case: 'No, you can't. Know what I mean?"

  I actually did. The Predators probably thought I'd come to seek their protection.

  How funny. They must have known that the Steel Shirts were looking for me. They could probably guess why, too. They weren't going to help their old enemies, but neither did they intend to attack me. Staying neutral was their best option. Which made sense: the Predators had just invested a lot of time and effort into their town's infrastructure. They had better things to do than challenge Mirror World's strongest clan; besides, they had their dignity too.

  I nodded. "Sure."

  "In which case, we're done here," Leosant said grimly. "Don't let me keep you any longer. Oh, and one more tip. The sooner you happen to leave this town the better."

  "This I can promise," I said, reaching for the summoning charm.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I remembered an episode of my childhood — when all of my family had still been young, happy and alive, full of energy and plans for the future. I was eight then: a boy who'd just managed to grasp the meaning of a major event called "moving house".

  Prior to that, I'd already known the Russian expression, "Moving house is worse than losing it to a fire." At the time, I couldn't quite grasp it: how could it be? All we'd be doing is moving our stuff to another place. What's that got to do with completely losing all your possessions in a fire?

  But judging by my grandfather's constant grumbling, he'd much rather "all this junk had burned to hell", as he'd put it.

  I still remembered taking pictures off the wall in my room. And finding some loose change behind the bedside table I'd moved. I'd scratched my name in tiny little letters just under the window sill, by way of saying goodbye. I still remember how sad I was to part with my old den.

  It was our next-door neighbor, Aunt Zoe, who bought our apartment allowing us to move to a bigger one closer to the center. Despite the change of address, my Mom stayed in touch with our old neighbors. When many years later Aunt Zoe's husband had died, we went to their place for the funeral. That's when I saw my old room again.

  It felt weird to know this was the same place. It was crowded with very dark bulky furniture. A ceiling lamp hung low, casting a dim light on the center of the room and leaving the rest in the dark. The ugly new wallpaper was covered in huge tasteless purple flowers. Strange faces stared at me from the pictures on the walls. Potted cacti were lined up on the window sill, bristling their needles as if informing me this wasn't my place anymore.

  I decided to try an experiment. I walked over to the window, closed my eyes and reached below the window sill, my fingers searching for the tiny inscription.

  I felt it. Oleg, it still read.

  A lump formed in my throat. Tears welled in my eyes. At the time of my making this inscription, both my grandparents had still been alive. My dad had still been living with us. My mom had been full of life and energy...

  Now as I sat in my room in Tronus' tower, I was saying my goodbyes too. It didn't feel as strong as when I'd been a child but you wouldn't call me cheerful, either. This place and I, we went back a while. Boris had been born here; he'd taken his first flight from this tower roof — accidentally giving me one hell of a fright.

  Was I going to miss it? I looked around me. A wardrobe, a table, a chair, a bed, a window that opened to the constant drizzle outside... no, I didn't think so.

  "You look as if you're saying goodbye to this old wardrobe!" Tronus stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden lintel.

  "Maybe," I mumbled. "You never know."

  "I can't agree more with you, my friend," he said. "Too many things have happened just lately. You just can't keep track of it all."

  "Why, has it been busy here?"

  "Oh," he waved his hand at me. "Busy is an understatement. Fancy a glass of wine in my lab?"

  "With pleasure," I rose from my seat.

  As I walked out, I cast an inconspicuous glance back. How weird. Just by stepping out of the room, I didn't belong here anymore. I wasn't coming back. And considering what I was about to do in the near future, I doubted I'd ever be welcome again in Tronus' abode.

  "Now," Tronus lowered himself into an easy chair. "You're apparently a new legend!"

  I chuckled. "Just happened to be in the right place at the right time."

  "That's funny. But still, how did you manage to defeat the Lich on your own? From what I hear, he's one strong sonovabitch. Always has been."

  Now it was my turn to be surprised. "Why, do you know him?"

  "We used to study together. But that's irrelevant, anyway. Come on, tell me!"

  "Yeah, sure. I'm going to tell you everything in a moment. Even better, I'll show you."

  I opened the bag, pulled out the Pocket Book of Blueprints and offered it to him. "I inherited it, sort of. I even managed to work out a couple of designs."

  He took the book and began leafing through it with an occasional chuckle or shake of the head, continuously raising his eyebrows. I even stood up in my seat, trying to see what he found so fascinating. Don't forget that I only had access to the first few pages while he, as far as I could see, was already halfway through it, apparently having no problems reading it.

  Could he help me with opening more pages, maybe? This would be too much to hope for but-

  He slammed the book shut and proffered it back to me.

  "So what do you think?" I asked.

  He cringed. "Mechanics. I was never into the Highlanders' craft or their inventions. But there're quite a few rather elegant solutions there, I have to admit... especially in the final pages..."

  My heart missed a beat.

  "All I can say is — congratulations!" he continued. "Now I understand how you managed to survive in the Fort."

  "In actual fact, I've only just started looking through them. Now if someone could explain-"

  "Sorry, my friend," he interrupted me. "As I've just said, mechanics just aren't my thing. I've gleaned very little from what I've just read. And in any case, there's no way I'm going to explain any of it to you. That would be doing you a big disservice. I'm afraid, you'll have to learn it all yourself, slowly and gradually."

  Oh well. Apparently, you couldn't outsmart the system. Never mind. It had been worth a try. Now, next thing on my agenda.

  "Thank you, Master. Mind if I in turn ask you a question?"

  "Absolutely. Fire away," he agreed magnanimously, taking a sip from his silver goblet.

  "It's about Crast stones."

  His nonchalance was gone in a flash. He tensed up. "Do I understand correctly you've finally decided on a swap?"

  I nodded. "You do indeed."

  "Excellent!" he happily jumped off h
is seat. "Follow me!"

  AN HOUR LATER, I was already flying astride Boris to meet Rrhorgus.

  The only things I'd accepted from Tronus were magic Teleport Crystals even though he'd offered me lots of useful goodies. I'd been dying to get my fill of freebies but they weren't really an option. I was bound to outgrow whatever items he could offer me quite soon. Elixirs weren't the answer, either. So the twenty crystals had to suffice: my strategic stocks for when the going got really tough.

  The beauty of the crystals was in the fact that they offered a teleport to any point in Mirror World provided I'd been there before. And considering the fact that the process of Boris' flight training had already taken me pretty much everywhere in the Lands of Light not to mention some far-off Dark locations, the choice of potential exit points was truly impressive. These crystals had been a very good acquisition indeed.

  As I'd paid, I'd received a New Achievement message. Apparently, I'd been the first player to ever receive the crystals. You bet! It would take other players a while to lay their hands on Crast stones.

  Tronus, my dear friend... what a shame we were about to become enemies. I couldn't do anything about it: this was gameplay. But I sure was going to miss this intelligent NPC and our long unhurried conversations.

  * * *

  "Trust you to get into trouble," Rrhorgus slapped my armored shoulder. "Our chicken shed hasn't seen such a stir in quite a while. Even the colonization of No-Man's Lands pales into insignificance in comparison. The forum is absolutely flooded with Olgerd this, Olgerd that."

  "I can imagine," I chuckled, admiring the sun setting over the ocean. "According to Dmitry, newb locations are trending like hell. I had to shell out for an email client. My inbox in absolutely blocked."

  "I can imagine the kinds of letters you receive."

  "Oh," I grinned back. "At first I opened a few. I thought my brain would explode."

  He laughed.

  "Well, what did you want me to do?" I shrugged. "The things they offered me... how could anyone even think of something like that! All right, all those invitations to join a raid or a clan are only logical. As are questions about the Fort and the kind of loot you can expect there. A few loan requests are a bit of a stretch, but still understandable. But asking to marry me! That's a bit over the top, isn't it?"

  "You'd be surprised," Rrhorgus replied, serious. "They are in fact the most sensible ones."

  I stared at him in surprise. "In what respect?"

  "In terms of marriage. It comes with so many perks you can't imagine. If your Sveta ever joined the game, I'd have told you to get married in Mirror World straight away. It costs, but it's definitely worth it."

  "Now you've got me curious. How is it worth it?"

  "Even the wedding rings, if you think of it. Firstly, they boost a lot of stats. Secondly, you can wear them on the same finger with any other ring. And thirdly, they can port you to your spouse, provided he or she is not inside an instance. There's a daily limit though: three or four teleports, I think."

  I scratched my head. "Sounds good. Like a mini-portal that you can carry around with you."

  "And that's only a fraction of all the advantages offered by Mirror World to its married couples. So whoever proposed to you knew what they were doing. Only I suspect they're probably all low-level players."

  "Not necessarily. Some of them were higher levels than me."

  He grinned. "They sense your potential! Or most likely, they simply don't know much about you."

  "You're dead right there. You're the only person I went to see. I'd hate to create problems for my friends."

  "I know, I know. Tanor is beginning to apply pressure. To me, as well. What did Uncle Vanya say about your escapades?"

  "He seemed all right. He warned me that he didn't want Liz to have problems though. Aren't you afraid?"

  "Who, me?" Rrhorgus bared his fangs in an ominous grin. "I'm a legless cripple already. What am I supposed to be afraid of?"

  "How about Max?"

  "They'll never get to him."

  Judging by his confident smile, he was probably right.

  "In any case, they don't need to find out about our little partnership," he rubbed his hands. "But if you don't make me a few millions, I won't invite you to my funeral, remember that!"

  "If I only knew how to do that..."

  "It's all right," he gave me an encouraging slap on the shoulder. "I'm sure you'll think of something. Just look at you! Level 30! A personal Blue set! Pocketfuls of useful beasties! You're a legend, man. Mirror World's very own hero. It's only been a few weeks since I sold you the Goner kit!"

  I chuckled. "Those were the days! Life seemed to be so much easier back then. Talking about selling, I've opened whatever loot I got from the Serpent instance. All of it apart from the Red chest, I mean."

  "You don't mean to say you've been to Mellenville, do you?"

  "Not yet, but I'm going to. I had my stuff delivered to the Balmy Bay bank. I had to pay extra but it was worth it."

  "I bet it was. Way too risky. Why the hell would you want to go back to Mellenville? Tanor has his eyes and ears everywhere there."

  "I need to get to the Armory," I said. "I have lots of Reputation saved, don't forget. I lost some of it doing the quest but still."

  "I see," he agreed reluctantly. "Lots of good stuff in the Armory. So if I understand correctly, you might need to leave a down payment."

  I made a helpless gesture.

  "Oh, well. If that's what you want... just don't say I didn't warn you. What have you got? Show me."

  "Just a sec," I nodded, hurrying to open the bag. "Now! I opened twenty-four boxes and ten pouches in total. They mainly contained transferable Reputation resources. Claws, eyes, feathers, crystals, bits of coal and whatnot. Quite useful stuff, if you know what I mean. Then I have nine Purple and sixteen Blue runes. Plus two more Blue items: a bow and a saber. All items fully transferable with no restrictions on them. I have high hopes for the Red Wrought-Iron Chest but to open it, I have to be level 50. Besides, I found this Potion of Fury in the Fort. Someone might offer a good price for it."

  I pulled the Red vial from the bag and offered it to my friend. Rrhorgus didn't react. What was wrong with him? He zoned out, open-mouthed, as if I'd shown him the Holy Grail itself.

  "Hey dude," I gave him a poke in the ribs. "What's with playing the salt pillar?"

  "All riiiiight," he finally managed. "That's getting interesting. If the Serpent dungeon is supposed to be easy, I dread to think what you might bring from a really difficult one."

  I puffed out my chest. "D'you like it?"

  "You bet," he gave me a happy slap on the shoulder. "Now they'll be lining up outside my shop. Transferable Reputation runes and resources with no level restriction? You bet! Or would you prefer to keep the runes?"

  I shook my head. "I'd love to but I can't. Having Purple runes installed at level 30 sounds almost too tempting, I agree. Still, most of them boost Damage and Speed while what I really need is Stamina. Besides, I don't think it would be wise to keep them. I need the money. Don't forget I have my monthly loan payments to keep up with."

  "I see," he nodded. "I've actually brought you some Green ones. Admittedly they're not Purple but they'll give your gear some boost. It's only to get you going, anyway. I'm sure you'll get yourself even better ones."

  "If only Lady Luck could hear you!"

  "It's all right. We'll do it," he reassured me, then switched his attention back to the loot. "These weapons are quite rare. You can make good money by selling them. But the Potion of Fury is rather common. It might fetch you fifty gold if you're lucky. Did you say Uncle Vanya owed you some loot?"

  I nodded. "Yeah. He sent me the money instead. He valued my tip at eight hundred."

  "It's probably easier this way," he agreed, then added with a chuckle, "A tip! If only he knew the truth! He'd have quickly changed his tune, I assure you. Okay, I'm sending you three grand as a down payment. The rest after sale."
>
  "Excellent. I also have all sorts of junk from the Fort. I didn't want to sell it at Balmy Bay. Too many prying eyes there."

  Rrhorgus gave it a quick once-over. "This is your typical nursery loot. I could give you fifty gold for the lot."

  "Really? I didn't think it was worth so much."

  "Considering the sheer bulk of it, yeah."

  "Just imagine how much of it I used to have," I added meaningfully.

  He rubbed his chin. "I'd love to have a look at your insects. Ah, good job I remembered. Here, take it. You won't find something like this in an auction."

  He offered me a weird-looking black oblong item about three fingers thick.

  I read the item's description. "The Charmed Scale of the Ylean Pangolin. So what am I supposed to do with it? I thought I asked you to bring me some top quality steel ingots?"

  "That's exactly what I did, didn't I?"

  "Wait a sec. You don't mean-"

  "Oh yes I do," he gave me a wink. "This scale is the strongest metal known in the game. And it's charmed, too! It can be used to make some very interesting items."

  My eyebrows shot up. "Really? In this case, it's a gift worthy of a king! Mind if I try to insert it into the Fix Box? Let's see what it can do..."

  Rrhorgus rubbed his hands, impatient, as I fiddled with the ingot. "And? How's it going?"

  I read the Fix Box's stats. "You'd be surprised."

  "Come on, don't drag it out!"

  "This one scale fills it up 50%. Quality of source materials: 87%-plus!"

  "I see..." he rubbed his green chin, suddenly pensive. "Does that mean that there's something better than this around? You're our walking metal detector, aren’t you?"

  "Don't forget its readings depend on the future item's quality. A scarab can't be made with soft metals. So yes, there must be something harder than this."

  "Your class is something else! Just wait till I tell Max. He's gonna love it. Promise me to make a video of your next scarab."

  "I will. How many scales do you have exactly?"

  "A dozen with the one you already have," he hurried to produce the rest. "I also have twenty ingots of shardelithic steel and ten vials of Venom of the Stonehead Adder. The quality is a dream!"