Isr Kale's Journal (The Alchemist Book #4): LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “That was fast,” Forian grumbled right before the wagon stopped. Doors opened to reveal the manor mistress stepping out to personally greet her guests.

  “Hurry, hurry,” the woman said as she bent over the ground. Grunting with the effort, she lifted a hefty slab revealing an underground passage. Valanil nodded admiringly—the public house owner turned out to be full of pleasant surprises. Diving into the hole first, the herbalist noted that it was as far away from the main building as it could be, the entrance also right in the middle of a kennel packed with snarling animals. It was the perfect hiding place. Anyone who showed up to inspect the house would come equipped with scanners that would turn it inside out, but they probably wouldn’t check the property. And would they brave the nasty-looking animals to find the narrow passageway? Scanners generally had a radius of about ten meters, while perception showed that it was fifteen meters to the nearest fence. The passageway angled downward for a few dozen meters before ending in a spacious room. Magic cards provided light and oxygen; supplies of food and water were lying in the corners. Not only that, but the group also found Ronan waiting for them. He was bloody, battered, and unconscious, but he was alive. Sadil hadn’t been able to break the viceroy’s fifteen-year-old son.

  “Not a sound!” Madame Lazul barked right before she shut the door. After making sure the cart hadn’t left any traces, she personally opened the cage doors to let the animals out into the kennel. The servants weren’t to be trusted. When there was easy money to be made, one of them would eventually betray her, and while the empire closed its eyes on Crobar agents, Madame Lazul would have had a boatload of problems on her hands if anyone from the academy found out who she really was. And even the great uncle who always covered for her wouldn’t have been able to do anything. Sadil wasn’t about to take on the provost.

  The curfew is over. City residents are free to leave their homes.

  The message popped up three times later. Valanil grunted with respect—it must have taken an enormous army to check every house in the city in that small amount of time. Somewhere up above them, the door opened to release the group.

  “Come on up,” Madame Lazul yelled. “It’s safe. Tailyn, grab Ronan.”

  Tossing the viceroy’s son over his shoulder, Tailyn activated his flight ability and quickly made his way out of the underground hideaway. Sadil and his aides were already waiting for him. The latter grabbed Ronan and carried him off toward a wagon.

  “Where are they going with him?” Tailyn asked. “Another interrogation?”

  “No.” A hint of annoyance flashed across Sadil’s face. “He turned out to be tougher than I expected. He saw us, too, so we’re going to have to isolate him.”

  “Kill him, you mean?” Tailyn asked.

  “There are many ways to isolate people,” Sadil replied evasively. The security chief didn’t like answering to a boy—an adult would have long since understood what was going on. Words like the one Tailyn had used were too dangerous to log.

  “He might come in handy. The viceroy won’t forgive the death of his son, but he might be willing to offer something in return for his life. Send Ronan and all your problems to Mean Truk,” Tailyn said, taking a hard look at Sadil.

  “You’re not just putting me and my people in harm’s way,” the old man said, his annoyance getting harder and harder to conceal. “There’s Lazul, her people, a crowd of innocent servants... You want to put them all in danger just to save someone who would happily see you dead?”

  “Give him the choice.” Tailyn was insistent. He couldn’t stand Ronan, though he couldn’t help respecting what he’d been able to pull off. If Tailyn himself had been in the other boy’s shoes, he would have sung like a bird to get the pain to stop. “If he’ll swear not to say anything about what happened from the moment he was taken captive, he’ll be granted his life in Mean Truk. He can keep a secret—you found that out yourself.”

  Sadil was taking in air to tell the boy exactly what he thought of him when he saw Forian stepping out of the underground passageway and froze. Quickly grasping what was going on, the priest had a quick pronouncement.

  “Ronan’s fortitude is conditioned on divine intervention, as is Tailyn’s decision. Are you prepared to go against the will of the System?”

  Sadil could have said quite a bit about intervention and the pair’s mental health, but he kept it all to himself. Outwardly calm, only a twitch in his cheek betrayed the emotions he was actually experiencing.

  “He’ll give an oath. If he doesn’t, he dies. And that’s all I’m saying about it! First, get him into the house; you three, come with me. There’s a lot we have to discuss.”

  Forian wisely refrained from arguing with his grandfather—the latter was clearly on the edge of a breakdown. Madame Lazul led everyone into the house and brought glasses over. With the servants locked in the basement, she was forced to do the work herself. Sadil gazed into his wine for quite a while. Finally, still without having tasted it, he placed the glass back on the table.

  “The provost ordered me to head back to the academy and await his return. He wants to speak with me personally.”

  A silence fell over the room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the head of the academy wanted Sadil’s logs from the past few days, and Sadil wasn’t going to be able to say no. And once the provost got them, he was going to have the truth about Tailyn and Ronan.

  “What’s that all about? Haven’t you always been above suspicion?” Forian asked in surprise.

  “Because of this.” The old man nodded to his aides, who carried an isolation cage into the room. Vu-Rga was sitting strangely inside. Regardless of the torture he’d been put through and the lack of magic, he looked calm.

  “The shaman’s protection is too good. We can’t get to his inventory, and he completely ignores pain. It’s like he doesn’t have any nerves. And so, his cards, his armor, and everything else he had is still on him. That’s what we needed Tailyn for—to handle characters like Vu-Rga.”

  “But why?” Valanil frowned, not getting what was going on.

  “We weren’t able to break Ronan down. Mind blockers can only be used with the provost’s permission, and I decided against that route—it would have been difficult to explain why we needed to use them on the viceroy’s son. And with the exception of this one, the isolation cages you brought us were all sent to the emperor. It’s Tailyn’s only way into the academy.”

  “But you can’t get in?” Tailyn asked.

  “Sure, I can get in,” Sadil replied slowly. “I just won’t be allowed back out. At least, not until my meeting with the provost. And I don’t think I’ll be going anywhere after that.”

  Once again, there was a pause, though that time Tailyn knew what to say.

  “We could really use some experienced investigators in Mean Truk—we don’t have any at all, actually. There are guards, but what can they do? As the head of the city, I offer you the chance to serve, Sadil. You and your people.”

  Forian had clearly been waiting for Tailyn to say exactly that. Chiming in, he laid out the benefits of working for the boy, both for Sadil in particular and the Tarn house in general.

  “Decide what you need most. Is it getting into the academy or getting me?” Sadil appreciated the offer, but business always came first for the old man.

  “It has to be one or the other?” Tailyn asked, his tone showing his surprise.

  “The deans will keep an eye on me from the moment I’m back. I’ll be able to return the cage to the fifth level, which is where I got it, but a trip to the library is out of the question. And I won’t be able to get back out of the academy.”

  “That’s fine,” Tailyn said. “Getting me into the academy and out of the cage is most important. From there, I can open a portal, and you’ll head straight to Mean Truk. Yes, I can open portals whenever I want.”

  “Okay, let’s say we can do that.” Sadil’s composure remained, though his heart began beating faster. He wasn’t l
ooking to die even for the clan. “What are you planning on doing with the shaman? Send him to Mean Truk?”

  “What would we do with him there? That bastard tortured Forian and tried to kill me. The only thing for him is a quick trip over to the other side,” Tailyn said harshly.

  “Thank the god. Here, I was starting to think you grew a soft spot for all things living,” Valanil replied with a sigh.

  “Let’s see about that.” Sadil slid the key into the lock, the door swung open, and Vu-Rga opened his eyes. Stunned, Tailyn realized they were still as sharp as ever regardless of the lix’s long imprisonment. Hate filled them. While the brown mage couldn’t use his cards inside the cage, there was no doubt what would happen the moment he got out. Tailyn held up his arm and activated Valkyrie—spending a charge was no problem in that particular situation. The boy had no pity for the monster.

  Almost as if sensing danger, Vu-Rga dashed forward, only he was too late. Just that split-second was enough to send his soul off into the dark nothingness. And Tailyn certainly wasn’t going to be bringing him back.

  Active Marauder attribute detected. Analyzing body...

  Active protection against marauders detected.

  Your attribute level: 135. Active protection level: 105.

  A shiver ran down Tailyn’s back, though his face retained its mask of implacability for the benefit of everyone else in the room. Vu-Rga really had been a monster—he’d put in plenty of work on his own safety. Judging by his parameters, the lix had eaten as many crystals as he could.

  Loot received:

  Virtual inventory expansion with 150 slots.

  Regeneration potion (8).

  Mana restoration potion +100% (32).

  Tears of Alron (18).

  Crystal (288).

  Active deck with 15 cards.

  Intercom-II…

  The list of equipment in the brown mage’s inventory was impressive. There was Vargot, Matilda, a few dozen different alchemical elixirs from accelerated growth to Alron’s potions, and much more. And while Sadil had already stripped him of his coins, selling his aristocrat’s tent, a set of silverware, some strange red negligees, and other junk that had been important to Vu-Rga but was useless to Tailyn raked in 243,000 coins. Tailyn sold everything that wasn’t important. After thinking for a moment, he handed the loot to Forian, unwilling to risk the tears of Alron by doing anything but sending them straight to Mean Truk.

  “Eighteen tears and a mountain of crystals?” Valanil’s eyes glistened. “What a haul! We’ll definitely be able to find some buyers.”

  “People looking to reset their parameters?” Madame Lazul asked, having quickly read through the item description.

  “You’re thinking too small, Lazul. Let me tell you something.”

  Their host frowned, though she went ahead and leaned over toward the herbalist.

  “Mark Derwin, founding father,” Valia whispered.

  “The absorber from Earth.” The public house owner’s eyes practically jumped into orbit, though she responded with the code to show who she really was.

  “Crobar will stand forever!”

  “Crobar will save the world... Greetings, sister!”

  “I’d like to offer Crobar the chance to resurrect its leader. Isr Kale can return to this world,” Valanil said, already at her normal volume.

  “We discussed this,” Forian said. “You can’t resurrect someone you never knew.”

  “But we can resurrect someone else, let’s say, the last patriarch. He can then resurrect his predecessor, and we’ll continue all the way back to Isr Kale. In return, Crobar guarantees the security of Mean Truk.”

  “I don’t have the authority to make that kind of decision.” The caring public house owner mask had fallen away from Madame Lazul’s face, the woman turning into who she really was: a high-ranking Crobar agent.

  “But you do have the authority to pass on our offer,” Valanil replied. “It’s good until the liquidation groups arrive at the city, after which our services will no longer be available to Crobar.”

  “Resurrection is a lovely-sounding word they believed in back in Mark Derwin’s day,” Lazul said with a snort. “We’re going to need some proof that there’s something to it, however.”

  “Do you know Raont Dif, the trader?” It was Tailyn’s turn to chime in. “Sadil, could you get him here?”

  Madame Lazul snorted skeptically. You could always find a trader willing to sell their services to anyone, including a guarantee that there was such a thing as resurrection. But half an hour later, her skepticism was banished when Raont showed up accompanied by his whole family. It wasn’t just his son, who frequented Lazul’s girls; it was Elza, the woman who’d died sixteen years before.

  “Forian, this is our trade partner. He’ll help us with the platinum,” Tailyn said, happy with the effect he’d had.

  “And not just with the platinum.” Raont was taking the bull by the horns. “I thought through what Tailyn told me about Mean Truk, and I can assure you I know how to help. Your city needs people. And not just freeloaders—you need masters. With a bunch of portal scrolls in hand, I could make sure you have access at great prices.”

  The discussion lasted until late that evening. At some point, Tailyn even regretted bringing Raont in right then, the trader using phrases the likes of which the boy had never heard. Tailyn could also see that his treasurer was losing the battle with the experienced trader. Even with help from Valanil, Lazul, and Sadil, he wasn’t able to drive ideal terms for Mean Truk. They were solid, of course, but not ideal. Raont drove a hard bargain.

  “I’ll be in touch! The first set of masters will be ready in two months, and I’ll be expecting ingot samples.”

  Raont was happy. Elza hadn’t let him really bend Tailyn’s people over a barrel, and they’d settled on a win-win for everyone. The city benefited, as did he. No matter how you looked at it, there was quite a bit of risk involved—going against the empire to make a profit... Only real traders were willing to go there. And Raont was nothing if not a real trader.

  Finally, the moment Forian was waiting for arrived. Sadil materialized a large coin and held it out to his grandson.

  “This is all I was able to get. We had to hurry, so it wasn’t as much as I would have liked.”

  The Treasurer transferred 48830000 coins to the city treasury.

  Tailyn could only grunt when he saw that Forian had handed his entire fortune over to the city. Had he left anything for himself? Or did the divine will keep him from that? The boy received his answer almost immediately.

  Faith +20 (71).

  Even the System was impressed by its servant’s selflessness.

  Valia, we’re ready.

  On the count of three! came the reply, and Madame Lazul’s home was soon lit up by a portal.

  “Don’t do anything stupid, my boy,” Valanil said before grabbing Ronan and leaving the capital. Forian followed her, nodding a quick goodbye to his grandfather. The latter had a tough choice in front of him—he hadn’t yet said what he was going to do. As soon as the portal closed, Tailyn donned his Lutar Shars disguise.

  “Get in,” Sadil said with a gesture toward the isolation cage, after which he glanced over at Lazul.

  “You should leave the capital for a couple weeks. Actually, make it a month.”

  “I’ve been planning on traveling the country and picking up new girls for a while,” their host replied. “Looks like it’s time to make that happen. Be careful—there are lots of guards out.”

  “The cage won’t let scanners through,” Sadil replied to his relative. “Stay in touch in case I need something. First, grab the cage. We’re off to the academy.”

  But Tailyn didn’t hear the reply. Dropped into complete nothingness, he did his best to maintain his sanity by talking with Valia. The lack of magic, sound, and space were difficult to cope with, and it was only the voice of his betrothed that held the panic at bay.

  Sadil was met at the academy g
ate. Teachers and seventh-year students greeted the head of security with weapons bristling. Because magic cards didn’t work inside the academy, they were forced to arm themselves with simple crossbows and pikes like a bunch of regular guards.

  “The dean of the battle magic department would like to see you,” one of the teachers said in a tone that made it sound like the god itself was deigning to speak with the security chief. Sadil nodded, and his people carried the isolation cage through the gate. There were no explosions, no security alarms going off frantically, no punishing magic. The cage had kept Tailyn safe from the ancient device.

  “Did you not hear me?” the mage asked, his face reddening with rage. “The dean wants to see you!”

  “Do you have the right to keep me from transporting a prisoner?” Sadil’s voice remained even, though that didn’t take the threat out of it. Teachers and students alike instinctively took a couple steps backward, in no hurry to catch the security chief’s anger.