Black Flame in the Barren Steppe: Epic LitRPG (Realm of Arkon, Book 8)

by G. Akella

  ...It's too late! But the ritual cannot be conducted without the book. All of the people who had sworn fealty to Edgar will perish, but at least I will save my people and their families! The Beast that my Edgar has become shall never find this book. Tyreah gave me a special kind of poison so that not even Rakot himself would be able to question me after my death. The invasion of darkness shall not take place...

  ...declared the duke an usurper and burned her grandfather's oath in Kyev's main square...

  ...only the soldiers remain in Sharen. Their families have been sent to Erantia. The Dark God shall claim no one from my barony!...

  ...will not survive a third storm... Farewell, my love! I only wanted to save you! Your Sally...

  You've accessed the quest: Rakot's Invasion.

  Quest type: hidden, unique.

  Use the blood of Edgar of Arkaetania and the Grimoire of Ashy Souls to thwart the invasion of the Dark God Rakot's army into Erantia and save the souls of the Dead Duchy's residents.

  Attention! The time for completing this quest is limited. If the conditions aren't fulfilled in the alloted time, you will have failed the quest.

  262:07:45… 262:07:44… 262:07:43...

  Reward: experience, unknown.

  I closed the journal, rose slowly from the chair, puffed at my pipe, and walked over to the open window. Some journals are more useful than others. I sighed, watching the water pouring from the sky. So, Laetan was once a Sharen... I chuckled at the realization that were I to stay in some other castle, I'd likely be visited by some other phantom of a brave woman to lead me to some other crypt. Still, that didn't help answer any pressing questions, such as what kind of army was amassing in the Dead Duchy? Vill's? Or Rakot's? Or both of them at once? The only thing clear from the quest was that Rakot was scheming to invade Erantia. Seven hells! In moments like this, you could smoke and not even taste the tobacco... So, where did this leave us? The duke had gone into an old barrow and found a vile book—the same one presently lying in my bag—and somehow ended up falling under Rakot's dominion. According to Salphine's memories, the ritual they conducted involved all the people sworn to him, and the Dark God's invasion was supposed to ensue right after. But, as a result of the brave woman's meddling, it was foiled and thus postponed by several millennia.

  Why were all those douchebags so keen on getting to Karn, anyway? Was it a land of mead and honey or something? Were they too good for their own homes?

  The baroness must have given the book and the medallion to one of her servants fleeing to Erantia. Upon their return, the servant must have found the diary, then buried the objects together with their mistress in the sarcophagus. After all, who would give the writings of the transformed duke's dead lover a second thought? At any rate, the gist of it was that we had ten days to go till the undead horde's invasion. Whether you spent that time bitching and moaning, meditating or sunbathing, none of that would change the quest's terms or stop the timer from counting down. I fished out the medallion from my bag, gave it a thoughtful once-over, sighed and put it right back. How was I supposed to stop the undead army? Maybe Vaessa knew some super secret spell for just the occasion? By the way, why was I the only one racking my brain about this new problem? Didn't I have subordinates to pawn it off on? Especially those specializing in dead people? Time for the magus to rise and shine! At the very least, two heads were better than one.

  I came out of the room, walked to the next door, and knocked on it three times, loudly. No more than a minute passed when Vaessa opened it—in full gear but with slightly disheveled hair. Was my battle companion as lazy as me? Or simply too careful to sleep without armor in unfamiliar places? The latter was the likelier scenario—I wasn't about to yield my crown in the laziness Olympics to anyone.

  "Dar?" she said with surprise. "What's the matter?"

  "You're about to find out," I sighed. "Wake up Kan, and come to my room, both of you. The rest may keep sleeping."

  "Why should I wake up Kan? He's—"

  "He'll be happier if you do it," I cut her off. "It's either Kan or the baron. You decide."

  "Kan it is," she gave a sly smile.

  "Thought so," I returned her smile, then headed toward the baron's quarters.

  Rousing the baron from sleep proved to be a tougher task, and he took more time getting ready. Still no more than two minutes, though. And so, less than ten minutes later all three were sitting in my room with drowsy, perplexed looks on their faces. With no undead in the vicinity and thus no imminent threat to the castle, the prince must be losing his marbles if he couldn't wait till morning. At least that's what I would be thinking in their place.

  "I'll start from the top," I said, leaning against the windowsill. "Earlier tonight I spoke with Merdoc."

  "You were at the Bald Mountain?" Daenic looked surprised. "But how?"

  "I go on pleasure walks sometimes in my dreams," I shrugged. "That's beside the point. I burned his remains, along with the shed where he lived."

  If you keep going like this, dear, my wife said with a sniff, by morning the castle will be ruled by a certified idiot. And I wouldn't mind it normally, but that's just bad strategy with an undead army knocking on the door.

  She was right—Daenic was clearly struggling with the cognitive dissonance. On the one hand, he couldn't not believe me, but at the same time... Shoot, I should have told them about my visions over dinner.

  "Let me clarify," I tried a different route. "Merdoc was already dead when I spoke to him."

  Oh, Hart Almighty...

  Keep going, dear, Lita purred—as a cat might after finishing a fat scrumptious mouse for dinner. He's on the brink now, push him over!

  Ignoring her quips, I proceeded to recount my encounter with Merdoc, by the end of which the baron seemed to have fully recovered. Despite the trolling courtesy of my cynical spouse, a baron from the Borderlands would endure a thousand stories such as this one and keep his sanity. It was only my sense of humor that was lacking after tonight.

  "What did he mean by Vill not being your enemy, and that you should ignore him?" Vaessa asked after a short pause.

  "Beats me," I shook my head. "Probably that he's only a puppet for whoever sits in the Azure Valley."

  "Doesn't look much like a puppet to me," Kan said broodingly, studying the deep scratches on the desk. "On the other hand, if those who had sent you here are behind the Ancients' attack... No, it still doesn't add up." The knight-commander gave a frustrated shake of the head. "Our working theory is that it was Vill who had awakened those beasts, correct? He was the one who started a war in the Gray Frontier, and it's he who's presently threatening the orcs and the humans. Isn't that a bit too much responsibility to pin on a puppet? Don't you think that it's precisely Vill who's scheming up to become this New God?"

  "I wish I knew," I sighed. "Anyway, that's not all. A woman turned up in my room as well..."

  Seeing a light smile on Daenic's lips and Vaessa's arched brows, I hurried to clarify:

  "The phantom of Baroness Salphine an Sharen, the former mistress of this castle. She led me to her crypt, and this is what I discovered there."

  I took out the book with the severed head on the cover, then the medallion, and placed them both on the table.

  "Don't touch that!" Vaessa shrieked, her face as pale as a sheet. Everybody froze, and after several tense moments, the magus spoke in a hoarse voice.

  "I hope you didn't open it?"

  "Don't sweat it," I waved dismissively. "It's just smut. Dismembered corpses, entrails, foul-looking midgets, and the like."

  "Don't sweat it, sure," the demoness smiled weakly. "What's Rakot's Thread to you? Just smut, nothing to worry about."

  "Rakot's Thread?" the knight-commander looked up from contemplating the cover.

  "Fishermen use bait to fish," Vaessa said. "This book is just that—bait. Whoever opens it has a high chance of falling under the Dark God's will, unless duly protected. And once spellbound, it's virtually impossible to break
free."

  The witch the baroness had showed the book to must have been duly protected. But how did she know that the duke was going to sacrifice his people? And how did it actually happen? Did the book have any details? The hell with the book and all these riddles. I already knew all I needed to know, and I wasn't going to read that filth at any rate. I hadn't bothered much with that anatomy textbook back at school, and this one I wanted to delve into even less. I doubted that the baroness had opened it, either—sentients in this realm treated this kind of literature rather warily. It was only on Earth that folks wouldn't hesitate to stick their noses into everything within arm's reach, and then taste it for good measure. Next to medicine made from grounded Egyptian mummies that was actually sold in drug stores two centuries ago, this booklet paled in comparison.

  I briefly relayed the contents of Sally's journal to everyone, then described the quest, and lit up, waiting for Vaessa, Kan and Daenic to digest the new information.

  "Dar, I hope you know that a curse cast by a god can only be lifted by another god?" Vaessa asked quietly, looking down at her feet. "Mistress could have helped, but for as long as Vill is alive, adding Rakot to a list of enemies would be reckless, to say the least. Besides, I don't know where she is, or whether she even left her phylactery. The ring—"

  "Forget the ring," I cut her off. "I thought that you might be able to lift the curse, but if not, we'll look for other options. We've got plenty of time."

  I exhaled the smoke and looked at the knight-commander. He seemed no more impressed with the news than if I had just told him that the neighbor's cat was expecting. The man simply wasn't the worrying type. If the baddies come, we'll deal with them—and that's that.

  "What do you think of the undead in Arkaetania, Kan?"

  "It's Vill's army that's in the Dead Duchy," he replied without a moment's hesitation. "The more interesting question is, does the Twice Cursed One know about Rakot's looming invasion? If he does, then he will surely move to attack the orcs."

  "And if he doesn't?"

  "He'll still attack the orcs," said the knight-commander with a shrug. "But something is going to happen in the duchy. A false attack, perhaps, to act as provocation. That's one scenario that comes to mind." He nodded at Daenic before looking back at me. "Richard Daar is certain to back up the orcs, and the king's legions are sure to follow him into the steppe. Humans remember..."

  "Let's hope he doesn't know," the baron sighed, rising to his feet. It appeared that he was finally realizing the full gravity of the shit sandwich we were being served—and he most of all. "I will send a courier to the count in the morning. In the meantime... Will you show me to the crypt, brother? This woman deserves to be buried with every honor."

  I wasn't going to get any more sleep this night, but I wasn't alone anymore. Within half an hour, it seemed that the only ones in the castle still sleeping were the rest of my party. It was already dawn by the time the wall to the crypt was broken and the sarcophagus extracted. The funeral was scheduled for eleven in the morning, and I decided that my presence was mandatory given that I was the culprit behind this entire development. The other members of our modest party turned up closer to nine, for breakfast.

  "What's gotten everyone so worked up?" asked Reece, walking over to our table while eyeing all the locals engaged in animated discussions over theirs. "Is Vill already in Erantia or something?"

  "No, but Rakot will be in ten days' time," Kan explained calmly, pushing his plate away. "Vill will most likely be going to the orcs."

  "Is the knight-commander trying to be funny? My, that's just painful to watch," the mage gave a despondent sigh. "Please accept my condolences, auntie. Though he does look formidable on your arm, that I can't argue. And I bet he's quite adept at chopping up wood and throwing out the garbage."

  "It's true. Rakon will be attacking Erantia in ten days' time," the necromancer's daughter shrugged her elegant shoulders. "The former mistress of this castle paid a visit to our prince last night. This is how we know." Vaessa took a contemplative look around the hall, and concluded sadly. "We're going to be holding a funeral for her in a few hours."

  A silence fell upon the table as everyone took their seats and reached for their utensils. Vaessa held a dramatic pause, then continued in the same tone.

  "Oh, the prince also chatted with Merdoc last night. And then he burned the prophet in his own home."

  I chuckled to myself. Was it on me that this was how she presented news to others now? Or had she been rehearsing it all this time? Judging by the knight-commander's imperturbable face, he had been properly coached on how to play his role in this sideshow.

  "I don't know who this Merdoc character is," Bonbon remarked to the latest tidbit. "But why do I get the sense that we've slept through the most interesting part?"

  "You killed the Dreamer?" Raena exhaled in astonishment, just now recovering the gift of speech. "But... why?!"

  I sighed, pushed away my plate, and slowly turned to face the suddenly mournful Vaessa, doing my very best to keep a solemn and grave demeanor.

  "I'm going to let the daressa tell you the rest of that story, seeing as she was the one who started it." With that, I fell back into my chair and crossed my arms with a smug smirk on my face. "The rest of us will listen and decide which of the two is the funny one in their family."

  Chapter 5

  "What were your lives like? In your former world?" Reece pulled on his lizard's reins and gave Bonbon a stupefied look.

  "What do you mean?" distracted from his own thoughts, the warrior raised his brow.

  "Well, you said that back on Earth nobody had ever actually seen any of your gods. So how can you die without knowing what's going to happen after?"

  "Did we have a choice?" Bonbon gave a big smile. "We just lived our lives and didn't sweat it. Aside from that, life was pretty similar to what it is here. You lived your life, and left behind kids, grandkids. And if you lived your life right, they would remember you kindly."

  "Tell me this, Reece," Masyanya entered the conversation. "Have you actually seen this Rakot?"

  "I have not," the mage shook his head. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't exist. Others have seen him, and it seems to me that we will see him soon, too."

  "OK, bad example," the huntress scratched her cheek, gazing musingly at the windmill by the side of the road.

  "You should listen to my advice, young lady," Bonbon declaimed. "Shave that blond mop of yours, and you'll instantly think of good examples."

  "Buzz off," Masyanya snapped back without malice, then turned back to Reece. "Some people back home genuinely believed in god. See, if you have faith and you're sure that you will pay for your good and bad deeds after death, then chances are you're going to lead a good life."

  "She's right, at least in principle," Bonbon supported the huntress. "Except only about one person in a hundred was a true believer. The rest of them stuffed themselves silly, screwed whomever they wanted, and thought that fasting during Lent absolved them of all their sins."

  "Fasting?" Reece asked with surprise.

  "Our god was strictly against overeating," the bald man explained. "It's bad for your body and your soul, apparently."

  "Ah, so now we know why you escaped," the huntress chortled. "Considering that you don't stop munching even while you sleep, you wouldn't end well in the old world... Getting back to Reece's question, we also had temples and monasteries back home. Some people spent their whole lives in them, and I doubt that your average Tibetan monk was afraid of death."

  "Well, sure," Bonbon shrugged. "Why be afraid when your entire life is as gray and gloomy as a bowl of stale oatmeal? All that meditation, inner searching and navel-gazing. What practical benefit does that bring to others? Heck, your average bus driver's life is a thousand times more interesting!"

  "Are you saying you didn't believe in your god?" the mage looked at him in bewilderment. "But—"

  "That's a complicated question," Bonbon shrugged, gazing out on t
he road. "As a physicist, blindly believing everything that gets peddled to the masses would mean betraying my vocation, my whole life. And yet, the matter is not so simple... So, I never denied anything."

  I was listening to their discussion while watching the sun set behind the forest. After two days on the road, plain old boredom had set in, and so everyone was discussing every topic that came to mind. Thankfully, it wouldn't be long now. Another night on the road, and we should be in Vynnern by lunchtime. In theory, we could keep going without pitching camp for the night, but in practice that would mean killing the next day, anyway. Even assuming we'd be admitted into the city at night, by the time we would get accommodations and rested... No, better not. Even though sleep wasn't technically essential, such technicalities went out the window in the face of practical reason. When you didn't know what tomorrow might bring, you had better be rested and well-fed, and thus prepared for the worst.

  The baroness was buried in a small grove a quarter mile from the castle, at the foot of a majestic old oak. After I had flatly refused the treasures recovered from her tomb, Daenic decreed that they be buried together with their owner, and I had to persuade him to spend the proceeds on fortifying and renovating the castle instead. The baroness had no need of them anymore, but Laetan Castle still remained her home, even if its name had changed. It took some convincing, but he acquiesced in the end. We spent around three hours burying her, and then another three feasting and drinking to her legacy. Thus, it was already afternoon by the time we hit the road. Despite the practical efficiency of portals, they would only take us as far as the duchy's borders, and we had to proceed on our own from there. We passed a few towns along the way, villages with low log houses, farmer carts and birch trees, the sight of which tugged at the heartstrings, reminding me of the distant Russian countryside. When you see something every day of your life, you don't realize just how intricately it becomes a part of you. In my former life, a pair of beautiful white-trunked birch trees grew outside my window, and I felt grateful to the devs for putting these trees here. I'd make sure to plant them in my princedom upon my return.