The Reapers (The Neuro 3)

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The Reapers (The Neuro 3) Page 16

by Livadny, Andrei


  “No idea!” she said. “I haven’t got a clue how this spell works. Borisov gave it to me, I tell you. He told me to activate it if I came across any Harvesters that I couldn’t handle on my own. And I think this was just the case. It’s not as if we had much choice!”

  “Why didn’t you show it to me earlier?”

  “Why should I?”

  “Well, I could have studied and copied it.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t think about it,” she replied, holding the energy sphere in her palms. I could make out some murky images forming inside.

  White cast a hostile look at the transformations unfolding within the sphere. “We need to put it into some secure storage. Or even better, pulverize it. Better safe than sorry.”

  “Go and port to the Hall of the Elements,” I told Christa. “We’ll see what we can do about it.”

  She nodded and disappeared in the swirling haze of the portal.

  “Phew, that was close,” Ylien said, brushing a layer of fine dust off his pants.

  The fire had completely gone out. A dark circle about ten feet in diameter was all that was left of it.

  “Hey, I know what this is!” White bent down and picked up a murky crystal ball lying on the ground. “This is a Soul Trap!”

  “Is it empty?”

  He clenched it in his hand, then winced. “I wish! It’s chock full of fragments of memories. Filthy ones, too. A foul cocktail of blood, unquenched desires and other nasties.”

  “Can you read its stats?”

  “Sure. You can, too.”

  Heart of Evil. Made by Dietrich, the First Reaper.

  “This is basically a bomb filled with fragments of neurograms,” White concluded. “Had they managed to explode it in the midst of all the pilgrims, there would have been a shitload of trouble.”

  “We need to move the guest portal further into the moors, away from the castle,” Ylien said. “And keep an eye on all the pilgrims on their way to Rion.”

  “Yes, but how do you want us to tell Harvesters from all the others?” White cussed. “We’re no mind readers. And I don’t think the goblins will agree to help us. The idea is good, I agree. We can’t restrict access to the Shrine of Nature. But we can’t let in all and sundry, either.”

  “I’ll speak to the goblins,” I said.

  “How? Did you see their shaman? He’s one nasty sonovabitch. He won’t even speak to you without the totem.”

  “That’s my problem. Ylien, continue to keep an eye out. If there’s a problem, let us know. We’ll be in the Hall of the Elements.”

  In the meantime, the party picked up with a vengeance.

  * * *

  Christa’s sphere with the two Reapers incarcerated in it was a terrible sight. Dreadful images formed inside, each one worse than the one before it.

  White watched the metamorphing neurograms closely. “What are we going to do with them?”

  “I don’t think the players’ thoughts are all ghastly like this,” Christa replied. “Which can only mean that Harvesters are much more dangerous than we thought. Apparently, they’re immune to all emotions which allows them to sort neurograms into good and bad.”

  “In which case, what do they do with all the positive ones?”

  “They either keep them in these Soul Traps,” White pointed a disgusted finger at the crystal ball made by Dietrich, “or they just destroy them there and then.”

  “I don’t think pulverizing the sphere is such a good idea,” I said.

  I cast an additional protection barrier around the artifacts. In order to do that, I’d had to sacrifice some of the energy generated by the castle’s runic sequences.

  “Just nuke it!” White snapped.

  “Really? What if the neurograms escape in the process? Christa, are you sure Davre and Highr aren’t inside it?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. They were smoked just before I broke the seal. They should have returned to their respawn point.”

  “Only they didn’t.”

  “I’ve no idea what happened to them!” Christa said. “Alex, do you really think that keeping Harvesters’ identities in the castle is a good idea?”

  “I have no experience in neurogram disposal,” I replied. “I’ve switched some of the Elemental energy to the protection barrier. Let’s just hope it’s enough.”

  I watched the silent scenes erupting inside the sphere. The fiery glares of ghostly faces were ablaze with hatred and agony. Looking at them sent an uneasy chill down one’s spine.

  “The Reapers won’t stop now. We need to think how to safeguard the castle against them!”

  “I know,” I said. “I need to go visit the Khmor tree.”

  “For what purpose?” White asked.

  “It’s empathic, isn’t it? It reacts to emotions and thoughts. I’ll see if I can make a deal with it.”

  “What kind of deal?” Christa was visibly restless. “Are you gonna ask its permission to dig it out and replant it here?”

  “Enea can speak the tongue of Nature now. According to Lethmiel, the Khmor tree is sentient. In the meantime, we’ll have to close the guest portal and set up an autoreply to all new applications saying something like, We’re sorry! The portal is under reconstruction. We’ll notify you about any upcoming possibility to visit the Shrine of Nature in the coming days. This way we won’t upset anyone. At least the castle will be safe for the time being.”

  “And what do you want me to do?” White asked, anxious.

  I could understand him. “You will take command of the castle defenses. Everyone who swore the Blood Oath must patrol the castle grounds to keep an eye on the pilgrims.”

  “Will do. How about the raid? Shouldn’t we stop the units’ rotation?”

  “Oh no. In fact, I should make new groups and send them there too. We need to reach level 150 as soon as we can. Once we do that, I’ll have new abilities open in my Neuro development branch.”

  * * *

  The rest of the night was uneventful.

  I let Enea sleep in. At breakfast, I explained the situation to her. Then we set off for the Yonder Isles.

  Archie met us by the portal. “We’ve run out of mobs,” he reported sadly. “We’d just got the hang of it when they all stopped respawning! I don’t understand. The location must be glitchy.”

  “Not necessarily,” Enea replied.

  “What is it, then? Mobs always respawn after a certain time!”

  “That’s what you think. The game creators did promise ‘alternative development scenarios’. Not everyone likes smoking mobs non-stop. Some people prefer exploring stuff, or solving riddles, or even just having a peaceful leveling experience.”

  “I still don’t understand it.”

  “And what if these isles are supposed to be colonized?” Enea suggested. “Then it makes perfect sense, don’t you think? The first groups are supposed to conquer the isles ridding them of monsters and clearing the way for peaceful settlers. I’m pretty sure this place has lots of resources waiting to be farmed. And these old ruins must be packed with mysteries.”

  “I never looked at it that way,” Archie admitted. “I’m a warrior, don’t forget.”

  “You might be right. We need to investigate,” I said.

  Enea’s suggestion indeed made sense. In which case, it was good news. That could open up a whole lot of new avenues for us.

  “Colonization...” Archie ran a quick Wiki search. “Oh yes, the game does have this option! It’s very vague though. It says nothing about the Yonder Isles. Just a bunch of general statements which don’t mention any specific regions or colonization rules. All it says is that players can acquire city houses starting at level 20 and found their own settlements at level 75.”

  “Very well,” I said. “We’ll see in the next few days whether we’re right or not. If the mobs don’t respawn, then this area is indeed meant for colonization. Let’s leave a few scouts here and continue to advance. How’s our combat section doing?”

  “It’s le
vel 82.”

  “Excellent. I want you to send out some scouts to check the nearest locations. Tell them to focus on the old roads leading both to the lagoon and the canyon marked on the map.”

  “Same farming scheme?”

  “Yes. We’ll keep the continuous rotation of combat units. How long did the mobs last?”

  “Forty-eight hours.”

  “Okay, then that’s the guideline we’ll use. If we completely purge the next location within forty-eight hours, it means we can set up an outstation here and start exploring the ruins. We can bring in more people to hunt and work the land. Can you imagine the possibilities? A whole region free of Reapers, available for colonization!”

  Archie cheered up a bit. “Good. I was getting a bit worried. Thought it was glitchy and all that. Okay, I’ll go see the other guys. Are you coming with me?”

  “Not at the moment, no. We need to visit the Khmor tree. The goblin shaman is a tough bastard. He wants his totem, and that’s the end of it.”

  “Can you believe it! Never mind. I’ll give the others the good news. I’ll tell them we can keep going.”

  * * *

  Archie took the path uphill while Enea and I continued toward the ruins.

  My raiders kept smoking Ferrigan’s Guards virtually non-stop. They had even developed some sort of unspoken competition for the right to fight them. White’s example had proved contagious: lots of other wizards and warriors couldn’t wait to test themselves in combat with this high-level enemy. We were not talking solo combat, of course — but groups of seven or eight players were quite successful against the Guards. Winners received various fragments of rare crystal armor. Light and sturdy with a bonus to magic protection, it had already become the most sough-after trophy.

  “This land is bountiful and fertile,” Enea stopped to admire the view. “Look at all this! I just hope our idea proves correct.”

  “You really think we can’t hold Rion?”

  “Oh yes, we can. I’m thinking about the future. It would be so cool to come and visit this place. We could go to the sea. I’ve already seen some dolphins there!”

  Ever since the creation of the Shrine of Nature, she’d been beaming with joy. A child, really. I didn’t want to ruin her good mood discussing our current problems.

  We walked through a stone archway and found ourselves under the shady canopy of vines.

  The Khmor tree sensed our presence. Its knotty trunk bent with an agility remarkable in a tree. Avoiding me, its branches reached for Enea.

  She pressed her hands to its wrinkled bark and froze.

  “It wants to talk to you,” she suddenly said.

  “How? I don’t understand the tongue of Nature, do I?”

  “You don’t have to,” a rustling whisper reached my ear. “You’re a Neuro. That’s well enough.”

  The tree’s trunk bent again. This time its branches reached out to me. Its leaves, sharp and covered in tiny thorns, touched my hand without hurting it.

  Barely audible, its voice touched my mind,

  “I’m the last one. I’m afraid I can’t offer you a branch. I understand your predicament but unfortunately, this is something I can’t do.”

  I had no prior experience talking to trees. I’m not one of those types who keeps a pot plant at home and talks to it. Still, I liked this one. Its self-awareness had justly warned it against us, making it realize it shouldn’t give us an inch unless it wanted us to waste it completely just to make more totems and magic staffs.

  I didn’t try to argue with it. Instead, I replayed in my mind the recent scenes of desolation.

  Dying forests. Earth parting, breathing fire. Glaciers consuming this world’s entire regions.

  “Our world is about to collapse,” I sent it a mental message. “We’re fighting the evil which is about to destroy everything that lives.”

  I tried to invoke simple, clear images as I said this. “Your branch might help us defeat this evil.”

  Once again the tree grew restless. A shiver ran over its trembling leaves. My thoughts must have scared it a lot.

  “We need your help, Tree. If we don’t stop the Reapers, sooner or later their hordes will come here.”

  “One branch can’t change anything,” the leaves rustled anxiously.

  “Enea is a Nymph,” I replied. “Even a wilted twig comes back to life in her hands. Please help us. Do spare us a branch to make a new totem. On top of this, I’d like to ask you to give us some of your seeds. We’ll grow a Khmor grove next to the portal so that you’re not alone anymore.”

  The tree grew restless. “Why do you need a whole grove?” it asked with some suspicion.

  “You can feel other creatures’ emotions, can’t you?”

  “Yes. This is a gift I have. It’s for my own protection.”

  “We need your young to stop the Reapers from getting to Rion Castle. To ensure that the Shrine of Nature is safe. I implore you to stand up for this world together with us!”

  A long anxious silence hung in the air. Finally, the rustling of leaves brought the following words to my ear,

  “I will believe you. I will give you a branch full of seeds so that the Forest Nymph can grow a new Khmor grove!”

  Its branches lowered toward me. “Chop it off.”

  With a clean blow, I swiftly cut off one of the branches.

  The tree shuddered. Pink sap poured out of the wound.

  “Collect it,” it rustled.

  I nodded my gratitude and hurried to remove the water flask from my belt. I poured the water out and filled it with the sap.

  Enea touched the tree’s wound, healing it.

  “Remember our agreement, O Neuro. Now go.”

  Chapter Six

  The Crystal Sphere

  The Yonder Isles

  ONCE BACK IN RION CASTLE, I decided to check on Platinus in his lab.

  He didn’t even notice me. Hunched up over test tubes filled with bubbling liquids, he was muttering something unintelligible. A side table was covered in small colorful heaps of glowing magic powders. My interface failed to identify them. All I could see were question marks next to each.

  “Plats? Can I distract you for one moment?”

  “Eh?” he startled. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s only me. Keep your hair on. I’ve got a new ingredient for you. Where can I put it?”

  “What kind of ingredient?” blinking, he wiped his eyes. “Sorry. I was a bit busy.”

  “The Sap of a Khmor Tree. It should be a couple of pints.”

  “Where did you get it from?” he asked curiously.

  “I can’t get any more, if that’s what you mean. So please go easy on it. Is it valuable?”

  “Never used it before. Didn’t get the chance. But I’ll study it for you. I promise.”

  “When did you sleep last?”

  “No idea. I’ve got all these ancient recipes, a whole book of them!”

  His eyes glinted with the enthusiasm of a scientist who’d finally laid his hands on some forbidden knowledge.

  “Okay, okay,” I said. “Enjoy.”

  Pointless trying to talk him into getting some rest. I could always order him to go to bed, I suppose, but what good would it do? He’d just sulk and pretend to obey me, then sneak out back into his lab.

  “Have you made the explosives?” I asked him.

  “Elementary,” he fiddled with one of the burners, turning the fire up. “As long as you have Spectral Dust, you can make as many vials of explosives as you want.”

  “You think you could apply the mix to arrowheads?”

  “Oh, no. You can’t just dip an arrowhead in the mix. It won’t work. I’m still thinking about how to do it. I’ll work it out sooner or later. Thanks for the sap. I think I saw it mentioned somewhere in those ancient recipes. I’ll look it up.”

  “I thought Raoul was helping you?”

  ‘Sure,” Platinus pointed at the glowing powders on the side table. “I gave him a few of the stamin
a, mana and life recipes. Now he’s working with them trying to improve them.”

  “And? Do they work?”

  “Yeah. The Stamina powder is ready. I tested it myself.”

  “Why? You’re not a warrior, are you?”

  “It still helps reduce fatigue,” he rubbed his eyes again, yawning. “I’m a bit afraid of OD’ing on it. I don’t want to get addicted to it. But overall, it works just fine. Sorry, Alex, this stuff is about to boil.”

  “Okay. I won’t bother you. Please look the sap up when you have the chance. It’s not just rare: it’s unique.”

  “Sure,” he mumbled unenthusiastically.

  * * *

  The next morning, Platinus awoke me before dawn, knocking unceremoniously on our bedroom door.

  “I need a mob. A high-level one. To test the arrowheads,” he announced the moment I opened the door.

  “Keep your voice down, will you? Enea’s still asleep.”

  He switched to a whisper, “I mixed some Spectral Dust with a bit of that sap! You can’t imagine! Get dressed, quick, I’ll show you!”

  “Wait for me outside. I’m coming.”

  I hurried to equip my gear. Should I call Arwan? Probably not. I knew how to use a bow, too.

  Some inventions were better kept under wraps for the time being.

  “Where do you want us to go?” Platinus asked, shifting his feet impatiently. In his arms he was holding three quiverfuls of arrows.

  “To the portal.”

  “What, to the Yonder Isles?”

  “Where else do you want me to get a high-level mob for you? All the nearest hydras are under level 30. We could get better ones in some far-off locations, I suppose, but it would take ages.”

  “Well, whatever. Come on, then.”

  We walked through the gate into the second ring of walls, then turned off to the barracks. The portal had been set up between two squat buildings standing close to each other, for security purposes as well as convenience.

 

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