Zectas Volume VI: The Delusive Realm of Mictlan

by John Nest

  “Kill me if you wish,” said Comataz. “I would rather revert back to stone and wait for a more appropriate master than the one I have now.”

  “Do you want me to punish you again?” said Amahan, touching the tattoo of Comataz on his arm.

  “See what I mean, Master?” said a condescending Comataz. “You’re the one who likes to punish me? I was just simply stating the facts and there you go again, bullying me with that infernal seal!”

  “Forget about the Djinn, for now, Amahan,” said Atiman, the Decane’s Shadow Priest and strategist. “Anyway, it’s time for Hilot, Tabang, Bato, Puthaw, and Tirador to log off.” He then turned to the members he mentioned. “How long will you be away for?”

  “I have a seminar to attend to,” replied the Range Sieger named Tirador. “So, maybe eight hours for me?”

  “Don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” said the beautiful Archbishop named Tabang. “But I’ll just call you when I get back,” she added and logged out immediately.

  “Typical Tabang,” said the Death Knight called Puthaw. “Put me down for eight hours as well,” he said and gave everyone a salute. “Don’t want to tell you what I’m up to, but I’ll see you all later,” he added and logged out.

  “Twelve hours for us,” said Bato, indicating in behalf of Hilot. The Death Knight then turned to his sister. “What about you, Magikera? Are you sure you’re not coming with us to Aunt Maria’s birthday?”

  “Nah, I’d rather stay in the game,” replied Magikera.

  “Do we really have to go there?” said Hilot to Bato. The HighElf Priestess twirled her long blond hair before she spoke. “Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with your family—”

  “But?” asked Bato.

  “Um… but not when it’s all of them,” explained Hilot. “Especially not all in one place.”

  “Great! Hilot is staying,” Bato said to Atiman. “Wonder if Isa is free for the party.”

  “No, no, no, I’m going with you,” quickly said Hilot. “I’m logging out now,” she added. “Pick me up in about thirty minutes.”

  Without another word, Hilot logged out of the game.

  THWAK

  A sudden wind-cutter smacked the back of Bato’s neck and sent his head deep into the pile of snow.

  “Pwee, pwee, what was that for?” asked Bato, spitting out the snow.

  “Jerk! I know you’re only teasing her, but quit it,” said Magikera. “If you don’t, you might lose her.”

  “Fine, I’ll apologize to her when I pick her up,” replied Bato. He shook his head before his body faded out of the virtual reality realm.

  “Just can’t log out anymore without some kind of drama,” said Tirador. “Everyone has the right to be stupid, but Bato is abusing his privilege.”

  “Hey, you okay?” Atiman asked Tirador. “Is something wrong?”

  “I’m fine,” replied Tirador. “Although, pretending to be okay is never easy,” he mumbled to himself. “Anyway, I’ll be back on time,” he said and logged out.

  “What’s up with the guild lately?” asked Atiman aloud.

  “You really don’t see it?” asked Baskog, picking up his silver cross embossed shield. “Tirador likes Hilot.”

  “Huh? But he never talks to her,” said Atiman. “Besides, he knows that Bato and Hilot are going out.”

  “You may be a genius at warfare and strategies, but you certainly don’t see the obvious,” Baskog said to their Shadow Priest.

  “That’s enough,” ordered Amahan. “Let’s get back to the quest. Where do we head now, Atiman?”

  “Not sure,” replied Atiman. “The information said that it’s somewhere in this region.”

  “If anywhere is fine, let’s just head north then,” suggested Magikera. “I don’t know why, but it creeps me out when I go south.”

  “Alright, north it is,” said Amahan. “Prepare the carriage,” he said to his right-hand man.

  With fewer members, Amahan, and his party sat comfortably inside their war carriage. They were being pulled by four stag moose and were driven by two WoodElf Pathfinders whom they hired as drivers.

  “Hey, why don’t you ever want us to get some kind of riding ability?” Magikera asked Amahan. “I mean, Smoke and his core members have them.”

  “I’ve already told you before, we’re not planning on any large scale engagements,” answered Atiman in Amahan’s behalf. “Moreover, leveling up an ability we barely use would be pointless.”

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” retorted Magikera.

  “In all the time we’ve been together, what have we been doing?” Amahan asked Magikera with a smile.

  “Hunting Dungeon Bosses,” replied Magikera.

  “Now, have you gotten bored with that?” asked Amahan.

  Magikera shook her head. “No, but I just thought that we could save money if we don’t hire coaches like this one.”

  “Do you know how much it would cost to train a stag-moose?” began Atiman. “Plus there’s also the maintenance of this carriage, the feed of those animals, their lodging, not to mention any untoward incidents of their death. We would have to retrain them again and—”

  “Alright, alright, I get it,” said Magikera, raising her hands in surrender. “Sheesh, you’re such a drag.” She let out a deep sigh. “I just thought it would be cool to ride a mount, is all.”

  “If that’s what you really want, then we’ll schedule a time for you to learn a riding ability, okay?” said Amahan to Magikera.

  “But that would just be a waste of—” began Atiman, but was silenced with a wave of Amahan’s hand.

  “But let me remind you of who we are,” began Amahan. “We are strong, but only against Bosses and the Undead. We’re not aiming to be mediocre at everything here, remember that.”

  With that, their journey continued mostly in silence. Except for your occasional heated repartee between Baskog and Ligon, but that was already a common thing these past few weeks.

  After traveling for two hours through the frozen tundra, all they saw were a herd of bighorn goats and a snow lion chasing after them.

  “Maybe, we should head for another direction after all,” suggested Magikera, guilty about their unfruitful travel by far.

  Yet, before they could change directions, Amahan and his party spotted a young man outside their carriage window. He was lugging a wooden cart filled with Adventurers’ equipment through the thick snow.

  “Driver, stop!” instantly called out Amahan.

  Curious to find such high-level equipment being displayed in broad daylight, Amahan got off their ride and walked up to the Zectian youth.

  “Good day, My name is Amahan,” he began. “And I was just wondering what you were doing here by yourself?”

  The young man stopped walking and dropped the handles of his wooden cart. “Nothing much, just collecting my haul for the day.”

  “If you don’t mind, can I ask how you managed to get such a big haul?” further inquired Amahan.

  “Sure, no problem,” replied the young man. “There’s piles and piles of equipment just lying there, ready for anyone to take them.”

  Atiman, who quickly followed after Amahan, asked him. “And where is this place supposed to be?”

  “It’s in an abandoned castle just two kilometers from here,” replied the young man.

  “What are you planning to do?” Atiman asked Amahan.

  “You heard him, right? It’s a castle, why not investigate it?” replied Amahan.

  “Don’t know,” said Atiman, shaking his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

  “Relax, we got this,” said Amahan. “Besides, if we find trouble then we’ll just come back until we have our whole guild.” He paused. His eyes widened, giving his friend an intense stare.

  “Don’t give me that look!” said Atiman.

  “What look?” coyly said Amahan.

  “The one where you’re already imagining the loot that we’ll be getting,” replied Atiman
.

  Amahan nodded and gave him a smug smile. “So? What do you say?”

  “Fine, let’s do it,” replied a forced Atiman.

  “Hey, do you think you can lead us to this castle?” Amahan eagerly asked the young man. “By the way, my name is Amahan,” he said offering him his hand.

  “Filou,” replied the young man. “Sorry, but I can’t,” he added and shook his head. “Do you know how heavy this thing is?” he said, pointing at his wooden cart.

  “Come on, can’t you help us out?” pleaded Amahan.

  The young man crossed his arms and pondered. “Um… I can’t take you there, but I do have a map.”

  “Great!” replied Amahan.

  “For a million zecs, the map is all yours,” quickly added Filou.

  “What? No way!” exclaimed Atiman. “No way am I using the guild’s resources for something as expensive as that!”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll pay him out of my own pockets,” said Amahan. He opened his inventory window and dragged sack after sack of zecs into the young man’s cart icon.

  + You have transferred a million zecs to Filou

  “Thanks!” said Filou. He then reached into the pocket of his vest and pulled out a map.

  As soon as Amahan opened the map, a notification window popped up.

  MAP LOCATION: Castillo de la Muerte

  Coordinates: Latitude: 11°01′ N, Longitude: 16°73′ E

  Note: Two kilometers away from current location.

  “Alright, you got what you wanted,” said Filou. “So, if you gentlemen will excuse me. I have a prior engagement.”

  With that the young man left Amahan and Atiman on the side of the road, pulling his heavy wooden cart along.

  After Filou was some distance away, Atiman said to Amahan. “You know, we could have just searched for it. Two kilometers isn’t that big of a search area.”

  “Nah, it’s okay,” replied Amahan. “You’re just too wound up too tight sometimes. Besides, I’m sure I’ll get my money back after we loot that castle.” He then patted the nervous Atiman on the shoulders and said. “Alright, let’s tell everyone our next move.”

  Their stag moose drawn carriage traversed through an old road. Tree roots and branches scattered on the ground, forcing them to slow down.

  “Sir, I don’t think we can ride through here,” said one of the Pathfinders to Amahan.

  “No problem, we’ll go on foot,” replied Amahan. “Everyone, let’s go!”

  After he instructed the drivers to wait for them, Amahan and his party members headed deeper into the forgotten road.

  “This place looks promising,” said a sarcastic Comataz. His black feathers ruffled as a strong gust of wind came from the end of the road. “I can’t believe I’m forced to be here.”

  “Hey! It’s still an improvement compared to that stinky shrine where we summoned you from,” blurted out Magikera.

  “Quiet!” commanded Amahan. “We’re almost there.”

  After five more minutes, they finally reached their destination.

  Amahan and the rest of his party members stopped in front of a natural bridge. It crossed a deep gorge, and across it stood an ominous castle covered in snow. Four watchtowers stood on the corners of the decimated wall, while half of the main castle itself was at the center. The ruined structure showed signs of being a former citadel, protected solely by a rusted gate.

  “Now, doesn’t that just cheer you up,” said Comataz.

  “Definitely!” exclaimed a cheerful Amahan.

  “Has he gone bonkers?” Comataz asked Atiman.

  The Shadow Priest shook his head in response. “He’s just glad that his gamble paid off.”

  “Well? What are you all waiting for?” asked Amahan. “Let’s go!”

  With Amahan in the lead Atiman, Magikera, Baskog, Ligon, and Comataz followed suit and headed for the castle.

  CREAK

  Sounded the rusty iron gates as Baskog and Ligon forced them open.

  “It’s good to see you pulling your weight for once,” said Ligon to Baskog.

  The Night Templar only let out a deep sigh in response and held his tongue.

  Amahan and the rest of his party members then saw a notification message.

  – Entered Castillo de la Muerte

  – Once the capital of Maldito City. It is now but a ruined remnant of the mighty city. It is said that a new dark power has taken residence in this place.

  – Suggested level for entering this ruin is 300.

  After closing the window, Baskog and Ligon then went straight to the main castle. Yet, before they could open the massive doors, Atiman stopped them.

  “Just so we’re clear, we will divide all the loot equally,” began Atiman. “Like always, fifty-fifty.”

  “Of course,” said Magikera. “You know that’s one of the reasons I joined the Decane guild in the first place.”

  “Right, right, equality through and through,” said Atiman. “But before we do divide the loot, I’d like a million zecs worth of items set aside first,” quickly added the Shadow Priest.

  “Huh?” asked Ligon. “Now, why would you do that?”

  “Well, because Amahan paid for—” began Atiman, but was cut off by their Exorcist leader.

  “No,” interjected Amahan. “We’re splitting everything we find right in the middle.”

  “Really?” asked Atiman. “Fine! Never mind what I said,” he said distinctly, exasperated.

  Amahan then turned to their two Tanks and said. “Be ready for an ambush, we don’t know if this is a trap.”

  Baskog and Ligon nodded simultaneously and tightened their grips on their respective shields.

  With one coordinated burst, the Night Templar and Death Knight yelled with all their might as they rushed into the castle. Both of them expected attacks coming from all directions.

  However, there was nothing there but silence. The only thing that greeted them was a great hall decimated by a blizzard.

  “Is this it?” asked Ligon.

  “I know. What a letdown,” replied Baskog.

  “Wait,” blurted out Ligon. He then began sifting through the snow.

  There, he found piles and piles of high-level equipment covered under a thick layer of snowfall. The Decane Tanks rested their shields on the few pillars of the castle atrium, the only things which remained visible above the white snow. With fervor, they dug up the snowfall with their shields, their thoughts were on the bags of precious jewels and other treasures they might uncover.

  “Wooohooo!” screamed Ligon, digging his sword deeper into the snow. He quickly stuffed the items he found into his inventory window.

  “Shouldn’t you give that to Atiman?” Baskog reprimanded Ligon. “How is he supposed to divide the loot if it’s not in one place.”

  “Oh, I’ve placed a label on them,” reasoned out Ligon. “Besides, I’m sure Atiman won’t be able to carry all of this!”

  A few seconds later, Amahan, Magikera, Atiman, and Comataz walked in.

  “Wait a minute!” exclaimed Magikera. “Are you sure we have to split this equally?” she asked Atiman.

  “As always,” replied Atiman, as he began putting items into his inventory window.

  As her eyebrows met, Magikera’s face contorted. “Really? Even for the members who aren’t here?”

  “Yes, Magikera, even for the ones who aren’t here,” replied Atiman, exhausted.

  “Fine!” replied Magikera. “Should’ve logged out when I had the chance, I could’ve been eating Aunt Maria’s cassava cake right now,” she muttered to herself.

  Suddenly, Amahan caught a glimpse of movement from behind one of the pillars. It looked like the young man who gave him the map to this castle.

  “Oi, Filou, how did you get here so fast?” shouted Amahan from across the great hall.

  Without turning to face the Exorcist, Filou bowed down before the pile of snow and treasure then said. “Master, it has been a while but I have brought fresh meat for y
ou,” he said in the most unnerving manner.

  The ruined castle rumbled. More snow fell from the cracks in the rough. A black coffin close to two meters arose from the snow.

  “Damn it, is that a Vampire?” asked Magikera, peeved. “I hope he’s nothing like that Alucard guy,” she shuddered and said. “I hate how he always tried to take a bite at my neck.”

  The door of the coffin bolted off in a flash and flew straight across the great hall.

  “Filou, is that what I think it is?” asked the two-meter tall man who emerged from the coffin. He was covered in a black velvet cape.

  “Yes, Master, I’ve brought them for your dining pleasure,” replied the young man.

  “Mm… Fresh blood!” exclaimed Filou’s Master, licking his lips with his long forked tongue.

  “Everyone, get out your anti-Vampire gears,” commanded Amahan, taking out his holy war scepter.

  At once, they switched out their items. Baskog, the Night Templar, got out a double-headed ax which resembled a cross. Ligon, the Death Knight, equipped his blood-sucker sword. Atiman, the Shadow Priest, got out an ancient holy book. Meanwhile, Magikera swapped her revealing two-piece set for a black turtleneck jumpsuit that covered her entire body, especially her neck.

  “Crescere Vita!” began Atiman, as he started shouting out blessings on Amahan and the rest of their party members. “Vitam Reficio! Medeis Reficio! Ultima Pugna!”

  Amahan and everyone else was flooded with minimized notification windows.

  + You’re Blessed with Crescere Vita for the next ten minutes: Your Maximum Life has increased by 25%.

  + You’re Blessed with Vitam Reficio for the next five minutes: Your HP Recovery has increased by 50%.

  + You’re Blessed with Medeis Reficio for the next five minutes: Your MP Recovery has been increased by 50%.

  + You’re Blessed with Ultima Pugna for the next ten minutes: Your most powerful attack will be triggered in the moment of your death.

  “Remember, don’t look at his eyes,” shouted Amahan. “He’ll hypnotize you with his Charm ability. That goes for the men as well,” he added, looking directly at the Death Knight.