Oblivion's Crown

by M. H. Johnson

  Now all Val needed to do was find the command hub, put in the final orb Arilius had given him, and claim Stridborg and all the treasures within.

  And he better do it quick. He doubted his panicked friends had more than seconds to live.

  Frantic seconds wasted.

  There!

  A surge of exultation as his eyes made out the softly glowing crystalline command center on the central pedestal just a short dash away.

  Wasting not a second to place the orb Arilius had given him with such hope in his gentle blue eyes, Val felt it suddenly snap into place on the central panel. The triumph and wonder Val felt as the city surged fully to life once more was a euphoria unlike anything he had ever experienced before.

  He savored a lingering glance at the beautiful ship resting so proudly before him, pulling up his Dominion Matrix to claim his prize.

  Lurching back with shock, unable to do so.

  Stridborg is contested! Another disputes your claim!

  Eyes bolting open as mocking laughter washed over him.

  Val recognizing it even as his entrails blazed with sudden agony, gasping with shock to see a silver blade plunging through his dwarven armor like butter.

  You have suffered 100 damage and a critical wound! 5 health lost per second due to bloodloss! Song of Battle in effect!

  Desperately lurching forward and somersaulting off the raised platform, slipping free of the awful blade before his foe could twist and tear, speechless with agony as his foe tsked mockingly at his expense.

  “What color is the hilt, Val. Remember that? For a guy who’s played Solar Crowns, it’s amazing how many times I manage to stab you in the back!”

  Val’s eyes widened with horrified disbelief.

  His earlier suspicions had been dead on.

  Their mysterious rogue who had all too conveniently disappeared, presumed dead, when the revenants had swarmed them, was very much alive.

  Ramos grinned in his coal-black leathers, the same color as his hair and eyes, the man looking both older and crueler than the driver’s license Val had tracked down online, what seemed a lifetime ago. “Shocked, Val? Don’t be. Earth was fun, but keeping tabs on Hanna’s little brats was damned dull. Far more fun to fuck with you when you were the only one left.”

  His grin widened at Val’s horrified gaze. “I was almost impressed by how well you took out my little disciple, Val. Truth is, I thought you’d be long dead. But here you are, a contender for the throne, with a ten million credit bounty on your head!” He raised his glowing saber, covered with blood. Val’s blood. Shivering with ecstasy as he licked it off, smiling hungrily at Val before gazing at the massive starship behind him with an impressed whistle.

  “Damn, but you do manage to uncover the grandest prizes! You know that, Val? That barony I bought on Elerium was sweet. But this? A prize of this caliber? Will see me owning the largest territory on all of Jordia!” He flashed a mocking smile as he sauntered up to Val who was struggling just to get to his feet. “Who knows? Maybe Kentric will give me your territory, after I disembowel all your bitches and give him your head!”

  Val took a wheezing gasp. “How? I never even saw you coming!”

  Ramos gave a mocking shake of his head. “Are you really that stupid? I’m Dauda, fool. Whereas you’re just a half-blood mongrel, I’m the real thing!”

  Dominion Rift successfully accessed!

  Val summoned his shield as fast as thought, and it was still almost too late, the deadly little spike Ramos threw for his eyes barely deflected as the saturnine-featured Dauda snarled his hate, smashing into Val and lashing out with a furious barrage of cleaving slashes at superhuman speed, Val’s shield and constant retreat all that saved him, eyes widening to see the glowing blade leaving gaping cuts not even dwarven alloy could completely counter.

  Val hissed with agony, his intestines screaming. Somehow the agony burned still, despite his supernatural healing.

  Willpower check made! You have successfully saved against collapse! You have failed to counter enemy’s feint! You have suffered 20 health and 1 Light Wound to a glancing blow! Feel the burn, Val!

  Val hissed as a laughing Ramos feinted high before plunging his blade right through Val’s shield.

  Yet Val was no fool. Having seen how even careful parries had earned him a chewed-up shield rim, he had no doubt that his foe could plunge through, and had been expecting it.

  But he had not been expecting a thrust aimed so perfectly as to strike the portion of his wrist closest to his shield, his enemy pulling back and flowing away so quickly that Val had no chance for a rebuttal.

  Now suffering an agonizing wound and further blood loss, just as his foe had intended.

  But two could play at that game, Val thought. “Glacie Pilum!” he whispered, Ice Spear so close to mastery he need merely think it for the spell to flow through him, having feigned weakness, hoping to catch his enemy off guard. But Ramos hadn’t been nearly as unprepared Val had hoped, and the results filled him with momentary despair.

  The man smiled, not even bothering to show off his superhuman agility, dodging the blow. Val’s magic slid right off of him, unable to find any purchase at all.

  Val felt an icy chill flow through his veins, Ramos’s growing smile promising a slow, cruel death Val would be helpless to avoid.

  “Glacie Pilum Perforo!” Val roared, a massive shotgun blast of deadly ice spears hurtling forth to impale his mocking foe.

  All of them passing through Ramos, as if he weren’t even there.

  “There is no way!” Val hissed.

  The dead-eyed Dauda sneered at Val. “Of course there is, fool. Do you truly not know the most basic lessons of our tribe? First you research your target. Know all his strengths, all his weaknesses. Gather all his secrets. When you fully understand your foe, victory is inevitable.”

  Val blinked, speechless.

  Ramos flashed a killer’s grin. “Truth is, you never had a chance, boy. I’ve been planning this day since you claimed your first territory. It did not take too long to gather sufficient blood for a Blackwitch to manufacture charms that would force your sight to wash over my body, even as your spells fail to penetrate my flesh!”

  Val was no fool, exaggerating the genuine agony he felt burning in his guts, letting his foe’s words wash over him. And only when his foe’s eyelids touched with a near instantaneous blink did he lunge, crashing into his foe with his dwarven shield as he whipped his blade around in a cleaving slash.

  And Ramos just grinned, not even bothering to dodge as Val’s shield seemed to flow right around him, sword forced away before it could even break skin.

  Val blinked, lurching back, chilled to the bone. “My blade won’t even mark your flesh.”

  “Of course not!” Ramos laughed. “Even now, the sands of time wind ever faster for the both of us, so powerful are the enchantments I catalyzed with my blade plunging into your flesh. Not even Elementium can touch my form, and no spell you cast will pierce this ward!” He winked. “After the steps I’ve taken to get us to this moment, your death is a foregone conclusion. And if you doubt how utterly I’ve mastered you, just think of the party you now fight beside. All those exotic classes and odd enchantments they possess.”

  Insight gained! It’s obvious, now that you think about it.

  “You weren’t there for any of Mick’s blessings!”

  Ramos nodded. “And you were such a fool, you didn’t even think to question the effects they might have on you, let alone deduce how it could be used against you! And knowing your fetish for dwarven artifacts, a fetish mirrored by so many Terran delvers, it was effortless to set you all up to meet.”

  He stepped back, favoring Val with a mocking smile. “Fact is, I thought you’d arrive days earlier. I even set up sweet little Crystal to be utterly smitten with you. Any dalliance you two shared would have made the blood bindings I have on you even stronger.” He gave a sad sigh. “Alas, you failed to show, and I had to arrange several ugly murde
rs just to delay the excavation until you finally arrived.”

  He nodded, almost approvingly. “Killing the Highlord and claiming his territory for yourself after disposing of his heir was a nice touch, Val. A move I didn’t expect. And you didn’t even need to play your trump card to join the party.”

  “His son was a grown man too busy throttling a serving girl who had displeased him to spot me when I slipped into his quarters. He deserved what I did to him.” Val swallowed, knowing he was a fool to justify himself before this monster.

  Ramos shrugged. “I’m your killer, not your confessor, Val. With over seventy thousand dead to your savagery, it’s a bit late to be moralizing now, isn’t it?” He chuckled coldly. “Though of course, we tend to grieve most for those we know. Take the seven fools, or is it five, now? Running for their lives against the Death-mech that had so conveniently been alerted to their presence.” He flashed a wicked smile. “Just a precaution. You understand. Added motivation to keep you running, too focused on trying to pull victory from the fires of defeat to actually wonder if you were being played.

  “As you were, since the moment we met.”

  Val’s heart raced with fury. “Why can’t they parachute out? What the hell did you do to them?”

  Ramos winked. “Wonderful thing about being in a high mana area like this. Not only does it keep your rather nasty Psiblade out of the equation, it’s also great at preserving living corpses. Like your friends.”

  Val swallowed, utterly chilled. “You didnt...”

  Ramos smirked. “I did. You fools have been playing for a full day since I sent the signal to my agents back in Chicago. We had them all in our sights. It was nothing for us to round up the families, plant evidence of treason, and have them all summarily shot. Not the dear children actually wearing the helms, of course. No. That would break the Mercenary Accords! But injecting them with wonderful little cocktails guaranteed to cause massive cerebral hemorrhages while leaving no trace? Child’s play, dear Valor. Child’s play!”

  You have embraced your wrath! Potency increased by 60%! Shadowmind lost!

  Val had no words, only blinding fury. Lashing out for all that it did no good, Ramos’s mocking laughter washing over him, his enchanted dirk plunging through Val's Elementium armor almost as effectively as his saber chewed through Val’s shield, Val now leaking blood from an impressive gouge on his thigh.

  Insight gained! His weapons can pierce your armor just fine!

  He leaped back, hissing at the wound to his leg. His impressive strength alone keeping him from stumbling, Ramos giving him a grudging nod.

  “Not bad, Valor. Killing you is almost a challenge.” His cold grin widened. “Almost.”

  And Val flashed an icy smile of his own, as it all clicked into place.

  Why Ramos’s attire seemed so plain and free of enchantment, even as he held blades so potent they could cleave through even the toughest alloy, leaving arcane poisons behind that ate his victims from within.

  Insight gained!

  Val smiled as his Arcane Perception finally picked up the faint shimmer of power all around Ramos, hidden so very well by the cloaking veil of Val’s own blood. Blood that warded Ramos from all arcane attacks, no matter how potent, even as it tapped into the man’s own life force to boost the spell.

  Val chuckled softly through his pain. “It’s killing you, isn’t it? The very spell you are using to counter me is slowly draining you dry.”

  To Val’s immense satisfaction, his words wiped the smirk off Ramos’s face.

  “It won’t matter, once you’re dead!” the assassin roared, charging Val who dropped his worthless sword even as he parried Ramos’s deadly flurry of blows.

  “My blood serves as the lynchpin, doesn’t it? Tell me, Ramos, do you think it works both ways? If my own blood is used to ward me, what would happen if I instead used it to boost my spells? Let’s find out. Dessico!” Val roared.

  Congratulations! You have successfully cast boosted Reaver’s Kiss! You are now an Adept caster of this spell! Boosted damage, adept status, Potent Magus, and Rank 2 Arcane Reaver has given you a +200% Potency Bonus as you embrace your wrath!

  Reaver’s Kiss does no damage!

  Insight made! Damage taken from Bloodmagic is converted into days! Find Weakness Skillcheck made! You sense the weakpoints of your foe’s Dire Enchantment! Triple effect for all damage taken! Your foe loses 30x3 = 90 days of life per second per casting of Reaver’s Kiss!

  Ramos’s eyes widened in sudden horror. “No, no, no! Die, you foul abomination! Die!”

  And Ramos fought with a madman’s frenzy, wicked crosscuts and hanging blows sliding past Val’s shield, biting into his flesh. The agony was horrific, and it was all Val could do to stay on his feet and back away without falling over as his foe’s poniard plunged into his kidney.

  In a moment of awful inspiration, Val raised his shield to the height his nemesis held his weapons, temporarily blocking line-of-sight, before doing the only thing he could.

  You have successfully placed all your artifacts in Dimensional Rift! Save versus idiocy obviously failed!

  Seizing the eyeblink of surprise Ramos registered as a now naked Val quickly clamped wrists holding saber and dagger both, fighting desperately for his life.

  Despite Val’s rage-boosted strength, Ramos gazed with the hate-filled eyes of a master killer, smashing Val’s nose with his forehead before Val could counter, kneeing him in the crotch, stomping on his insole.

  Save versus stunning blow made! Two Light Wounds, one Medium Wound, and 40 damage taken!

  And Val lifted his legs, wrapping them about his enemy’s torso, locking calves and squeezing for all he was worth, taking away his opponent's balance and leverage as he forced the man off his feet.

  Now Ramos had to roll and grapple on the ground, where Val had a fighting chance.

  “You will not win this, I will kill you!” Ramos hissed, glaring with hate.

  Val flashed a bloody, broken smile. “Dessico. Dessico. Dessico!”

  Ramos’s eyes widened. He screamed with furious horror, fighting like a madman to free just one hand to finish Val off as fast as he could, but it was already too late.

  “No… no!” the horrified Dauda whispered, hair turning brittle and grey, then a frosty white as his flesh hardened to that of a warrior still deadly but past his prime before old age took its hoary due, melting the flesh from his bones, skin now liver-spotted and paper-thin, once handsome features little more than skin tightly stretched upon brittle bone.

  And it filled Val’s dark heart with furious exultation to see the naked terror in his enemy’s eyes.

  But before Ramos could whisper a single plea for mercy, his eyes bulged as his shriveled throat choked out a final death rattle, and he was no more.

  Death’s Kiss in effect! You have absorbed 127 health! Critical Wound healed! Witch’s Venom neutralized!

  Val stumbled to his feet as Ramos's flesh shriveled and dried, his final expression of wide-eyed horror crumpling to dust before Val’s eyes. He shook away the shock and exhaustion threatening to overwhelm him even as he trembled with sudden energy, as if he had downed a litre of coffee after staying up all night, cramming for finals.

  But the euphoric sense of relief he felt at being alive and whole when the serpent who had sought his downfall was dead instantly paled as the sound of blasters echoed faintly through the massive ship hangar.

  His heart skipped a beat. He had no time to waste, pulling up his Dominion Matrix while diligently taking in his surroundings, anxious eyes alert for more unexpected daggers in the dark.

  Do you wish to claim Stridborg for 3 territory points?

  Val was a heartbeat from accepting when his mental finger suddenly froze.

  Insight gained! What will happen to your friends when you collapse the wave function generating the high mana field keeping them all alive? For now, anyway.

  “Shit!” he hissed, frozen in indecision before his eyes danced over the centr
al command console once more. Racing to it in an eye blink, recalling Arilius’s final instructions.

  Knowing he had not a second to waste, Val winced at the prick of a needle extracting his blood and a minute amount of Silbion, repeating the guttural Dwarvish command phrase his father-in-law had insisted he master.

  Several blinking red lights about the hub turned a soothing shade of green.

  “Authority acknowledged. Full administrative permissions granted. Orders?”

  “Tell the Deathbot to stand down!” Val shouted.

  “Orders?”

  Val grimaced, realizing he had been speaking in English, reformulating words that were now second nature to him after so much time communing with his Ava, for all that he had to work to avoid her bemused smiles at his more guttural pronunciations.

  “Override Central City Sentinel defense protocols. Sentinel is to return to central hub and enter hibernation state.”

  For endless moments the computer banks making up the command center flashed a rapid series of lights before all of them turned a soothing shade of green as the faint vibration under his feet grew in pitch and volume.

  “Command acknowledged. Central City Sentinel defense protocols overridden. Sentinel entering hibernation state.”

  But Val was already dashing away from the ship and out the massive building as fast as his feet could take him, knowing he had no time to waste.

  44

  “Jager, he’s dying!”

  Val gazed into half a dozen pairs of desperate eyes, some part of him dispassionately noting their wounds, many severe. A pale-faced Eric was close to shock, his left arm ending in a seared hub at the elbow. He was lucky even to be alive after being struck by the deadly sentinel’s searing beams.

  The rest of them were covered with bleeding wounds and gashes, eyes wide with animalistic fear. Poor, beautiful Jiu had clearly lost an eye to shrapnel, blood and fluids leaking freely down her face, absently holding an exhausted, panting Eric close. Fear and adrenaline kept them upright when most people would be rolling on the ground, screaming and sobbing.