Soulcatcher

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Soulcatcher Page 18

by Sergey Zaytsev


  Traveling on fursters was quite comfortable. The animal's gallop was so smooth I wasn't even wobbling, and they moved through the woods so confidently that the bridle wasn't even needed. Alice was only pointing them in the general direction and the fursters intuitively chose the most convenient paths, going round the thickets and deposits of fallen trees that were blocking the way from time to time. The rogue seemed to have changed; we've been riding for an hour, and during that time she would either answer my questions briefly or simply ignore me. I had to leave her alone just to get where we were going. I had something on my mind anyway.

  Stats changed quite a bit since I leveled.

  I finally decided to equally share the ten free points between dexterity, as I was clearly lacking mobility, and endurance, as no man ever suffered from sturdiness. I liked the fact that each level, in addition to the basic characteristics, automatically added 20 health, energy, and mana points. The amount of points received was, therefore, bigger than it should have been. A new bonus, which was added to the "endurance" stat, especially pleased me. In addition to health and energy, a point of endurance was now responsible for defense as well. The "Shield of the Novice" was growing thinner, but I was, on the contrary, getting tougher. It was not surprising that the players had no decent armor before the trip to the dungeon. The very body of the avatar made up for the lack of external armor with internal "hardening". Unfortunately, I had to distribute stats while I was in the saddle, so couldn't "save" yet. I would have to do it when we stop to rest. But still, the numbers were a pleasure to look at: 270 health and energy points; mana, 150; intelligence and wisdom, still rising naturally, 14; strength, 24; and dexterity and endurance, 19.

  The damage of all known abilities grew significantly, too. "Searing Flash", for example, could now add as much as 40-45 additional fire damage to a physical attack. But I better focus on the new stuff. After investing two points into "Elemental Power", now at rank 3 and with 9% chance to trigger blade buffs, I finally (hip-hip-hooray!) received my first ranged ability. Although, not a combat one.

  "Windspear"

  Rank 1 (1/100)

  A blocking ability which interrupts the enemy's current action and stuns them for 2 seconds.

  Type of action: instant

  Cooldown: 30 seconds

  A good ability, especially against mages, as it could be used to interrupt some exclusively malicious spell.

  But, as always, there was a catch.

  Up to level five, to relax, I just needed to sit still and let my body absorb the natural energy; now, however, I had "fatigue" bar which meant, of course, that frequently wasting energy would, sooner or later, lead to the accumulation of negative energy, no matter how many times I sit down. At 50% fatigue, recovery speed is halved; at 100%, visibility falls to zero, so that one could not go on without sleep. Well, I'll have to carefully monitor my stamina. Mana was, I concluded, also an integral part of the energy that could be spent without compromising physical health. It was something like a surplus reserve.

  The "Uniq" was now bearing a laconic name, "Sword of the Warrior", and without the slightest speck of rust on it, glittered like after a thorough polishing. Its damage had increased substantially, up to 30-45 points; however, the difference between "slashing" and "cutting" damage had disappeared. Maybe that's why the spread between the lower and the upper border had become more noticeable. Strength and accuracy of the depended on the player even more.

  Having dealt with the nuances of the game, I devoted the rest of my time to paranoia.

  I kept wondering what Grant's last words meant, but I could not come to any definite conclusion. "That's no secret for me at all." What was that supposed to mean?! I spent an hour thinking about various options, even the most delusional ones, but to no avail. Thoughts spun in a circle, exhausting me and bringing mood down.

  However, one thought persisted: the letter was a fake. Mere lies, plain and simple. It was a letter sent by the system itself to all players as an incentive for advancement, so that they make haste in the "sandbox". Maybe it doesn't send it to everyone; just to two out of three newcomers, so that there is always a killer and a victim. This would explain a lot; including Grant's "secret" knowledge. But I really didn't like what that option implied. If the letter really was a fake, then perhaps there was no "I" on the other side. If I failed to prove to the system that I was good for something, I would be erased as a non-viable prototype; just as Ears had promised at the briefing.

  These thoughts made my headache worse…

  I even reread the letter several times in search of sense hidden between the lines. And find it I did. The line "your killer was registered at the same time as you" gave me a very bad idea. I suddenly thought that a one-time registration did not guarantee simultaneous entry into the game. The killer could have entered it before or after my registration. I let the go of reins. My paranoia ran wild. If that was true then…

  ...any player in the location could be my killer, not just Red and Gramps.

  Any player at all!

  This meant that Grant was also a potential candidate; that he might have postponed the trip to the dungeon not for the sake of forming a duo or because of the "Uniq", but so that he could get me as a companion, thereby imposing constant control over me. A direct kill would deprive him of a precious save. If the killer was smart, he would arrange my death in a manner that would not arouse suspicion. Remembering everything we have been through formed quite a horrifying picture in my mind.

  Among the three of us newcomers, Grant singled out not Foxy or Pops, but me at the inn. Now let us take the quest with the pet taming into account, during which I could have died because of my poor knowledge about the game and my own abilities. I had plenty of chances to perish there. The "Water Elemental" almost drowned me in his own body. If I hadn't hit myself with the "Ice Squall" back then, I'd have one save less now. While protecting the "Source", Grant didn't warn me about the guardian crystals even though he knew that they could explode. He had to heal me only because there were witnesses. A mentor couldn't fail his mentee in front of everyone, after all. Near the "Temple's" pier... Why the hell had Grant sent Glutton away just before the attack had happened? If the pet had been with us... The idea of going through the dungeon together... Was that not just an additional way to expose me to a mob attack without raising suspicion?

  However, reality hit me like the archer's arrow hit Grant. It would have been easier for him to attack me openly rather than put himself at such a risk. Paranoia, that's all this was. I was going crazy for sure. I thought myself the center of the universe, the whole world revolving around me. Everyone caring about me. Nonsense, of course.

  Even the forest seemed to look worse and worse with each passing mile, contributing to the gloomy mood. In the beginning, restless squirrels ran all over the green branches of pines and fir-trees, clattering angrily and throwing heavy pine cones at the travelers, that is, Alice and me, in protest of their territory being invaded. But now, conifers were gradually being replaced by groves of gnarled elm, and the nasty, furry nuisances finally fell behind, apparently having no more cones left. A crow followed us in their stead. With a vile croak, it flew from one tree top to another. One by one, its kin followed. Soon, the trunks and crowns of some trees were densely wrapped in shoots of poisonous green ivy, turning them into giant umbrellas. It got darker as we passed under them as the sunlight was unable to break through such a dense mass.

  When we got to a gentle slope leading to a rather bleak-looking valley, the crow choked as if someone took the damned creature by its throat, coughed, and finally retreated.

  Before going down to the lowland, I had a look around.

  The sun shone from behind, reflecting brightly against the lush green leaves, small beasts scurrying busily between the branches. A hedgehog, peeking out next to the furster's hoof from under the knotty root, stared at me with its black, beady eyes with such intensity that it seemed just about ready to point its finger in the dir
ection of the "Temple" and say: "That way, you idiot."

  I couldn't stand it.

  "Alice! Alice, damn it!"

  "What's up?" the rogue held her furster's pace and turned in the saddle, looking at me with annoyance.

  "Are you sure we're not lost? This looks more like an impassable jungle than a shortcut."

  "Don't worry, the road always quickly overgrows here," the girl shrugged and pulled the reins, forcing the horse to trot on. "Ivy shoots can grow several feet a day and are as strong as steel wire. Therefore, the trail is barely visible. However, the mark on the map isn't going anywhere, so don't worry. It'll take us ten minutes or so to get to the river, and just as much to get to the pier if we follow shore. It would take us an hour if we were to follow the road."

  To the river? I did not see any river; then again, the view was blocked by the damn trees. But I did see the wetland, which began a hundred feet ahead. There, greenish water bubbled, and dried reeds ominously rustled in the light wind. Well, at least there were no insects. I didn't know how, but all the biters and annoying little bugs were nipped in the bud, so as not to annoy the players.

  And still, I liked this trip less and less.

  Turning my head, I remained alert. Some kind of malicious beast had to be hiding somewhere in such a forest, and I did not plan to let it catch me off guard. I kept suppressing the urge to unsheathe my sword. For this I had time. The real question was - would the sword stop the arrow.

  I had to admit that the borderline state of consciousness I was in after the "Replicator" played a cruel joke on me. I wanted to get back to the pier as quickly as possible, so much so that I allowed a random stranger to help me. A decision which I had already regretted. But still, the rogue didn't show hostility. Level nine, so what? I would not allow anyone to drive me into the "Replicator" again and let them go unpunished, this thoughtful blonde included. If we were to fight for some reason, it was unlikely that such a fragile looking girl would be a serious opponent for me. I was heavier and physically stronger, if lured her into close combat and make her lose her range advantage...

  I hoped it wouldn't come to that.

  Anyway, it was too late to turn around.

  I didn't notice when the hooves of the furster suddenly got covered with a blanket of greenish-poisonous fog. The humid mist swirled upwards, climbing under the belly of the mount, licking my boots, and covering them... Damn. My clothes had finally changed; jacket and pants hardened, acquiring the structure of rough-tanned leather, meaning that the environment around us was a hostile one. It stank like a cesspool, making me cover my nose. Carrion. Mold. Excrements. Death. Just in case, I buffed myself with both auras - "Tempest Blade" and "Wind's Breath".

  "Hey, do we have to trudge through the swamp?" I asked, calmly galloping ahead. My voice sounded unusually muffled, as if the fog absorbed sounds. "There's no way around it?"

  "It's shorter," the girl responded in a muffled tone, not turning around. "This will all be over soon. We'll stick to the edge, as the thickets to the right are impenetrable."

  Blindly directing the horse is not pleasant. One could easily lose their sense of reality in this haze. The misty vapors receded before the furster's chest, and then closed again. When it had seemed that we were about to stumble and sink into the invisible abyss an island, free from fumes, appeared in front of us. Delighted, I poked the furster's sides with my heels, making it rush towards the relatively clean place.

  That's when its hooves stepped out of the swirling greenish mist onto the wet, black earth. I had let my guard down.

  The attack was swift.

  I should give Alice some credit; her reaction to the danger was a quick one. As soon as the crackling sound came from the treetops, the rogue instantly jumped off her horse and raised the bow alight with magical radiance, its string singing sonorously.

  I rolled off the horse, almost falling under the hooves of my furster, dodging the massive shadow that had jumped from a branch with the intention of beheading me. Hitting the ground with its entire body, the creature gave out a squeal of pain, and jumped back onto all fours. I found myself in front of it, clutching the hilt of my sword with both hands.

  Neighing in fear, my furster ran forward and hid behind its cousin's back.

  "Young Bonechewer"

  Level 8

  HP: 236

  A ghast in the flesh, here going by the name "Bonechewer". At such a frighteningly close distance, I could smell its disgusting stench - it reeked of death. The creature was much bigger than a man, with a wolf's head and a powerful body of a gorilla, covered with shaggy black fur. With a roar and a careless wave of its long, knobby paw, the "Bonechewer" broke the arrow that stuck out of its broad chest.

  "Distract it, keep it away from me!" Alice ordered coldly, retreating several steps in order to increase the distance. "And don't block my sight, turn sideways!"

  Fair enough, the archer's strength lay in their ranged attacks. I could be the decoy, but Alice would have to finish it off. But to distract a "Bonechewer"... My level five versus its level eight?

  I chuckled, shifting to the side. Let's see how much we are worth as a team.

  Two arrows immediately dug deep into its shoulder and neck, but that just slowed the creature down and angered it greatly. It twitched, paused, and waved its paw again, breaking the arrows' shafts. With a growl, it rushed towards its attacker, losing interest in me.

  No way!

  I moved my left hand as if to push an invisible barrier with my palm and a ghostly clot the size of a fist burst from my hand and hit the "Bonechewer's" bumpy forehead. The stunned creature swung its head, brushing away my "Windspear". The difference in levels resulted in a miscast. But I got its attention and now its glowing red eyes were staring at me.

  Alice didn't stand idly. The arrows rustled, penetrating the flesh, causing the creature's entire body to shudder with each hit. Blood damped its shaggy fur. The "Bonechewer" jumped. I expected that. A quick step aside, followed by a sweeping blow of the sword charged with a "Flash".

  Obtained the achievement "Wrath of Fire", rank 1 (1/100)!

  The "Searing Flash" ability has been used a hundred times and now has a 5% chance to inflict 10-15 points of lingering fire damage (5 seconds). No more than 1 activation per 20 seconds.

  It was beautiful.

  The sword cut the creature's back, and its spine caught bluish fire. The stink of singed hair appeared immediately. The creature's eyes widened and it gave out a shrill howl of pain, spinning on the spot in confusion, not knowing how to extinguish the flames. Twigs and leaves caught under its paws flew in all directions. Feeling nothing but flesh-eating pain, the "Bonechewer" forgot about its attackers.

  The rest was a piece of cake.

  Taking advantage of the enemy's confusion, I hamstrung its back paws with a couple of blows, and the "Bonechewer" fell on its ass. Arrows continued to dig into the monster's flesh with enviable efficiency; one hit it in the eye, extinguishing the red glow. When it tried to jump up again, "Uniq's" blade cut into its left thigh, slicing through both skin and muscle. The beast toppled to the side, successfully exposing its sinewy neck for an attack. I stepped closer, swung in a wide arc and put all of my strength and bodyweight into the blow…

  I guess I got too carried away. Thinking that the beast was dead, I got closer than I should have, and immediately paid the price. The beast swirled backwards, swung its powerful paw, topped with menacing claws, and reached me from the distance of six feet.

  Had I not been thrown into the nearest tree, I would have flown through the fog. My back collided with the trunk with a crunch and I fell to my knees, hoarsely coughing air out of my lungs. My vision darkened for a moment, and when I lifted my head and tried to stand up, everything was already over. The "Bonechewer" was twitching in agony, gasping and spitting blood; his creepy paws blindly beat on the ground, plowing the turf. The system reported that the right of loot belonged to the player Alice as her blow put an end to this furious,
but short fight.

  I wasn't up to looting, though.

  Hissing in pain and cursing under my breath, I looked angrily at my torn pants. There was a gaping hole in the fabric on my thigh. Putting down the sword, I tore the hole open, revealing the wound. Just one blow from the "Bonechewer" was enough to rupture the muscle in three different places; one for each claw on its front paw. Blood flowed copiously, soaking the pant leg and dripping onto the boot. A most unpleasant sight, not to mention the sensation. The crit was huge and the "Shield of the Novice" couldn't save me.

  I tore the flask with "Tincture" from my belt and poured its contents over the wound. Transparent liquid foamed over the damaged area, anesthetizing it, and quickly hardened into a thin elastic crust, stopping the bleeding. Pain subsided almost immediately.

  "Can you walk?" With a springy step, Alice approached the "Bonechewer" and dispelled the corpse. Then she gathered the intact arrows and her only prize - a soul crystal. Not much from such an opponent, sadly.

  "Why walk if you can ride?" I limped to her. My muscles were damaged quite seriously, and the leg obeyed worse than before. What bad luck. "We need to get out of here, it may not be alone."

  "Don't you worry about the 'Bonechewer'. These predators are in control of quite large areas and do not tolerate rivals. They take two hours to respawn, so we have time to get you cleaned up," the girl waved her hand pointing towards several elm trees growing on top of a hill. "There's a proper hill there. It has a good view of the entire area."

  "A familiar place?"

  "Of course," the rogue nodded casually. "I already had to take shortcuts here. The last vice cm of the 'Children' showed me a couple of places with interesting quests, before transferring his position. Come, I'll show you something too."

  The battle had almost no effect on the rogue, save for a bit of blush on her cheeks. Strong self-control. Now I liked her a bit more than I did back at the inn. Some of the coldness still remained, but there was no more mockery in her voice. All I saw was a busy, canny girl, probably perfect for the role she found herself in. However, something back in the valley made me feel uneasy; it was by no means connected to the "Bonechewer's" death but it wouldn't allow me to relax.

 

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