Aces High (Reality Benders Book #6) LitRPG Series
Page 32
I nodded, approving of such a crucial step for the defense of Earth. And a road to the spaceport would also be important for both of our factions’ development. I just asked my Chief Advisor whether we had enough players to execute the plan. After all, very recently we had been discussing a lack of construction workers, and now our faction was suddenly planning to build a high-speed thoroughfare, which would require a good few players.
“We do not have the players yet,” Gerd Mac-Peu Un-Roi confirmed my fears. “But I have ordered accelerated recruitment of construction workers and engineers, so new ones are entering the game all the time. Furthermore, we will need many people for the new factories and production facilities we are building — with our current capacity, Relict Faction production capabilities are already stretched to the limit making vehicles, weaponry and gear for soldiers both of our and other factions. One other problem is that we are just about to hit the maximum player ceiling. But we are waiting for the six new hexagons to be built around the Laboratory of the former H25 Faction on the big continent. That will bring the limit up by fifteen hundred. Furthermore, the two nodes of the disbanding H8 Faction will also come in very handy. They will mitigate the limit problem even more.”
Yes, that was true. Furthermore, a few older nodes were about to level up so, in three or four days, the Relict Faction’s player limit would jump up to fifty thousand, and that would give us enough players to complete all our projects and plans. Meanwhile, the Mage Diviner continued his report:
“A large shipment of weaponry and equipment purchased by the Human-3 Faction for eight million crystals has arrived. Leng Tarasov has already picked it up from the spaceport. And there is still friction with the leader of the NPC Antiquity Faction, Phylira the Centaur mare, over the cost to employ her Centaurs and Minotaurs. Work on the southern peninsula has basically come to a standstill. After the NPC Dryad Nefertiti boasted to her forest buddies about the huge chunk of gold she earned for making one little ring, I’m afraid Phylira has absolutely lost contact with reality and her demands have become entirely inappropriate.”
Is that so? Looks like I’ll have to have a personal talk with Phylira. I had always found a common tongue with the striped mare in the past. Maybe I should go over there right now. Though the doctor did prescribe bedrest, I already felt much better. I tried lowering my legs off the bed and sitting up, but a few seconds later I was already forced to lie back down — even such minimal exertion made me dizzy and lose the few Endurance Points my character had managed to accumulate. Damn... How unfamiliar and uncomfortable it was to feel this weak and helpless!
Maybe out of a desire to distract me from the sad thoughts, the Mage Diviner hurried to change the topic:
“Everybody in the First Directory right now is talking about the coming of the Second Legion. Commander Rupor’s troops have secured the palace of the ruler and all the most important sites in the capital city. Including the perinatal center in Pa-lin-thu where Princess Minn-O La-Fin is now being kept. I don’t know all her medical details but, based on the fragments of information I do have, your wife is having a rough pregnancy. Her and the child have different blood types and Rh factors. The risk of complication is high. I checked the lines of the probable future. Overall, they are favorable either for your wife or future child, but... not one hundred percent, and it would be best not to bother Minn-O too often so she can stay calm with the appropriate care in the perinatal center.”
Something in my advisor’s words put me on guard, and so I unabashedly read his thoughts to figure out what the Mage Diviner was not saying.
“The fetus was saved but just barely. And there’s still a risk of miscarriage. First pregnancy, extreme toxicosis. The probability of a favorable outcome is just 62%. She needs constant care and monitoring of her condition. Any disturbance would be extremely negative. Minn-O is a player and must periodically enter the game that bends reality. The game has a beneficial effect on health, so the sessions should be made as long and frequent as possible. But contact with strangers and all other situations that could present a risk to her life must be limited.”
Damn... Nobody ever told me it was all so complicated and dangerous. I’d have to be sure and find Minn-O when she entered the game. My wife is going through a very hard and scary time. I have to reassure her and tell her how much I need her.
“The rumor that Gerd Tamara, leader of the uprising, is in the retinue of the ruler of the First Directory is also spreading,” my Chief Advisor continued. “Many claim to have seen the girl paladin at your side with their own eyes. That alone has caused a serious schism in the ranks of the insurgents. And now that the Second Legion is in the First Directory, many have taken that as further confirmation to the theory that Gerd Tamara is working for Coruler Gnat La-Fin. Furthermore, some hearsay has leaked that there might be big changes coming to the political structure of the magocratic world. All the magic dynasties are paralyzed and waiting anxiously for you to make a statement, Coruler Gnat La-Fin.”
“They’ll get their statement, and it’ll be broadcast to the whole planet. Don’t you doubt it!” I assured the Mage Diviner. “I just need to get up into space and reach the Pyramid Contact Hall in the mobile Relict laboratory...”
“There is one more worrying thing I must tell you. The probability of the Miyelonians joining the war against the Geckho is steadily increasing. I have been tracking the lines of the future, and the trend is frankly scaring me. I expect you won’t have to be reminded, Coruler, but that would be the most negative possible scenario for Earth.”
Yes, I understood that perfectly. Kung Keetsie-Myau’s patience wasn’t unlimited, and the ruler of the Miyelonian race would probably be expecting me to give her something concrete about the mobile Relict laboratory soon. The note she wrote on the table in my room served as a reminder that the Great One was so seriously concerned with the topic that she took valuable time out of her extremely busy schedule to personally come to my place and discuss all the details.
Here I suddenly remembered that I had completely forgotten about a letter I received recently — the sealed envelope from the La-Varrez Faction. I was in a hurry to Uline Tar’s wedding, I was too preoccupied, and I left the envelope lying on the operator’s console. I ran a scan right away, which confirmed it was still there. I turned on the loudspeaker and asked Copilot San-Doon, currently on the bridge, to bring the envelope to me.
A minute later, I broke the fragile flexible seal depicting two fighting jaguars and extracted a double-folded sheet of paper from the envelope:
Kung Gnat La-Fin!
This is a letter from the true legal head of the La-Varrez dynasty of mage rulers and the future leader of the same faction in the game that bends reality, Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez. I hope my relatives will soon confirm my right to the throne and my election as faction head. But if not, I have faith in your discretion, Kung and Coruler Gnat La-Fin, the mightiest mage on all the planet! I have something you will be very interested in. I know where your girl paladin Tamara really is. Respond with a time and place, and we can meet to discuss the possibility of mutually beneficial cooperation.
P.S. Alone, unaccompanied and in private.
P.P.S. You are a significantly more powerful psionic than me, so you could just take what you want, but I am counting on your decency. You have the reputation of a man that keeps his word.
Gerd Soia-Tan La-Varrez, true head of the La-Varrez dynasty and future coruler of humanity.
Chapter Thirty-Four. To Kill Fox
WHAT A STRUGGLE... I set my alarm clock for four AM and went on foot from the space port to the neighboring Desert node, taking with me just one companion: my personal Bodyguard Gerd Imran the Gladiator. I trusted the Dagestani implicitly; he was a trustworthy and proven associate who would not go blabbing left and right if the Kung of Earth passed out or got nauseous. And beyond that, Imran was loaded down practically to the limit with medication and food prepared by our Chef-Assassin to accelerate my Endurance Point regeneration. I had
the feeling I would need it all, and very soon.
Why did I depart at such an early hour? First of all, so I could reach the training camp before the blistering heat set in. And second, so nobody would just happen to pass me by in such a pitiful condition. And my condition truly was pitiful... At first, I could barely make it fifty steps before I had to stop and catch my breath or even fall to the ground in exhaustion. Meanwhile, I was starting to feel seriously unwell. All the food I got down immediately started trying to come back up. It took more than half an hour before I got past the first row of defensive laser batteries next to the Geckho spaceport.
In another hour and a half, I made it across the node boundary and reached the Desert. By that time, after a break, my Endurance Point bar was up to a whole eight percent. Better than the one and a half or so it would get to before. The Miyelonian healer turned out to be right — physical exercise really was helping me get better. But the cure was just proving so difficult!
I just so happened to be resting and wolfing down some food, hurriedly restoring my strength before another burst, when a whole thirty cross-country army trucks came racing past filled with heavy infantry and going toward the training camp: Shocktroops, Space Commandos, Grenadiers, Machinegunners. They didn’t recognize me — I had the Null Ring on and a track suit instead of my Listener Energy Armor, which was just too distinctive. However, Imran and I got a good look at the speeding players and exchanged surprised glances.
“Human-5 Faction... I haven’t seen them before. Who even are they?” asked my bodyguard after coughing out the dust kicked up by the army column.
“The French. And that’s very strange, because H5 is part of the Terrestrial Coalition.”
I changed into the ancient Relict armor suit (and I had replaced the Tachyon Bender with the air tank — I didn’t want to demonstrate the new ace up my sleeve too soon) and activated my radio, sending a message to the training camp about the odd guests. It was almost certainly not an attack — there weren’t enough of them for that. But nevertheless I had to get to the bottom of this. In particular to figure out how these guys had gotten to the spaceport, even though I had issued a clear prohibition against members of the Terrestrial Coalition visiting. The training ground guards confirmed receipt of the message and promised not to let the column enter the camp until they’d worked out the details.
Ten minutes later, when I was forced to take another break and sit down, greedily sucking air into my hot lungs, the answer came in a highly unusual form:
ATTENTION!!! The leader of the Human-5 Faction Leng Whaler-Stormbird proposes to include his faction in the military and political alliance Army of Earth. Do you accept? (Yes/No)
There we go! That was a crucial political success and reduced my enemy count as Kung of Earth. I had to be happy about that. Maybe it made sense to first get a better handle on what happened and why the plans of the Human-5 Faction had changed so abruptly, but still I opted for “Yes.” What mattered most was that it was clear the H5 Faction wanted to be on the side of the majority.
By the time I got to camp, my Endurance Points bar was back up to fourteen percent. Not a lot of course. But in comparison with before, it was serious progress. Tamara the Paladin walked up (you don’t have to be a brainiac to figure out who it really was) and sent a group invitation, then one more requiring I reveal my detailed character statistics. I don’t think I’d have trusted anyone else quite enough to do that, but here I understood it was necessary — one of the best instructors in the galaxy had to know how to make my character stronger.
Once the impossibly stern girl familiarized herself with my statistics, she shook her head skeptically.
“I get the feeling I’ll have to spend at least a week running with rocks on my back...” I tried to joke. But the Morphian responded to with a serious look:
“There’d be no point. You don’t have any skills that level by severe physical exercise, hurdle running or overfatigue. In fact, you’ve got quite a strange set of skills overall. I could of course crank up your Targeting, Rifles and Sharpshooter, but it doesn’t look like you really use them much.”
“I use Targeting. It has saved my butt in more than one critical engagement. But as for Rifles... it’s pretty much only so I can shoot the Annihilator point blank as a last resort.”
Pseudo-Tamara considered it, then announced:
“I have composed a levelling plan for you. I will cure your ailment and make you stronger as a psionic and telekinetic. Bear in mind, Kung Gnat, the program is oriented around four days of very intense exercise, so you won’t always be able to leave the camp. Plan your schedule accordingly. Starting from day three, you’ll be working with your crew. But I’ll be taking Imran for now — there are group exercises going on, and your friend stands to benefit greatly from participating as part of Team Gnat.”
The Gladiator nodded obediently, unloaded the bag of medicine and supplies and followed the Morphian’s instruction. When he was a bit away, Tamara said with sympathy:
“Let me warn you, Gnat. This will be very hard — I only teach one way — on the brink of survival. By the end of these four days, you will hate me with all your heart and want to kill me. And I will give you the chance to do so — killing me will be the graduation exam for you and your Team Gnat. One of my copies will be with you the entire time. It must be that way because I have high-level Instructor and Pedagogue skills, and the experience and skill-up speed will be increased sixfold. And to make your next few days just a bit brighter, I’ll make an exception and let you dictate my appearance. Okay, no need to say it aloud. I got it.”
A second later, before me was standing an anthropomorphized space fox. Waving her red tail to and fro’, seemingly to get accustomed to the new body, Fox pointed a clawed paw at the beginning of an obstacle course:
“Okay then, let’s get started! We’ll make a real fighter out of you! But before we begin, I strongly suggest you use your unallocated skill points — death will be circling around you constantly today, and it would be a shame to have those points burn up and disappear.”
ATTENTION!!! LEADER of the Human-8 Faction Arthur McKinley proposes unification with the Relict Faction on the following terms: the Human-8 Faction shall join the Relict Faction in its entirety. Do you accept? (Yes/No)
The message jumped before my eyes at the worst possible moment — it broke my concentration and made me miss an attack, taking a thrown rock right to the forehead. Ow! My hitpoints fell to the scarily low figure of 156 out of 2527, and I also got a warning I had been dazed and was bleeding, reducing my Hitpoints even more. One more blow would kill me but, despite all the difficulties and growing panic, I was able to instantly get it together and, using Telekinesis, dodge all of the next three projectiles hurled my way.
Danger Sense skill increased to level one hundred seventeen!
Telekinesis skill increased to level twenty-six!
Mysticism skill increased to level eighty-four!
Perception raised to 34.
Perception raised to 35.
The third and final Perception boost my Gnat could get. And after it, the bonus point I was counting on getting when spending my statistic points. The gash the rock left on my forehead was gushing blood over my face. And although I had a blindfold on, meaning my vision was not impaired by the blood, I still raised my right hand to ask for a break to dress my wounds.
“No stopping! Finish him off!” the “fox,” basking in the rays of the sun on a chaise lounge with a glass of cold juice, commanded the six Grenadiers — the highest level and strongest ones to be found in the whole army of Earth. The goons were arranged in a circle around me and had already been throwing heavy rocks at me like this for an hour, trying their damnedest to kill me. To make matters worse, the Morphian had blindfolded me because, and I’m quoting the instructor: “Your sense of sight is only getting in the way. For some reason, you humans only have eyes on one side of your head, so you won’t see all the rocks no matter what.”
Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred three!
Nevertheless, I fell over — what did get through was still enough to hammer away the last remnants of my Endurance Points and a portion of my Hitpoints. With the last of my strength, very nearly losing consciousness in exhaustion and overexertion, I thrashed all the Grenadiers with disorientation and paralysis.
Medium Armor skill increased to level one hundred four!
Mental Fortitude skill increased to level one hundred twenty-four!
Disorientation skill increased to level seventeen!
“Okay, let’s leave off there and take a three-minute break,” Fox stood up from the chaise lounge and even helped me to my feet. “Bring your health and energy back up, take your armor back off and get those drones out of here — I don’t like you peeking through their cameras. And now that you’ve learned to take control of six players at once, what say we add a seventh Grenadier!”
BY THE END OF THE FIRST day of training, my Gnat had leveled-up to one hundred eight. I immediately invested the three skill points into Danger Sense, bringing it up to one hundred twenty-five — that skill had saved my hide several times today, so it certainly wouldn’t be going to waste. The fact that I hadn’t once died all day didn’t seem to be to the instructor’s credit, but rather a shortcoming. Seven times I found myself in critical situations, just a second from going to respawn or saved miraculously by a mere two or three hitpoints.