A Second Chance

by Vasily Mahanenko

“Piled into two neat equal ranks?” Eredani was amused. “By who? Demons? Those beasties that devour everything indiscriminately and aren’t even averse to prixis? Don’t forget we have two commanders.”

  “And the stairway with the booby traps, the first of which blocks the entrance.” I added my two cents’ worth. “Or the last, if you count backwards.”

  “Plus ten to Attentiveness,” Eredani said praisingly. “So, what are the options?”

  “There aren’t any,” I sighed.

  “Then let’s watch a film!” My partner rubbed his hands in glee and took from his inventory a glaive emanating a noxious green mist.

  The Cursed Glaive of Seth

  Description: A legendary object. Seth, the ancient god of war and death, has desired since time immemorial to capture Barliona. His servants were not able to break through the defense of the Creator, so Seth created the Cursed Glaive. Whosoever possessed it would acquire incredible strength, but would be Seth’s slave for all eternity. Material: Almaryl.

  Intellect +40

  Stamina +40

  Strength +40

  Agility +40

  Luck +40

  Damage inflicted increased by 40%

  Probability of critical strike increased by 40%

  Attack speed increased by 40%

  All basic characteristics increased by 40%

  The race of the owner of the object changes to Cursed Werewolf, and the owner himself becomes an acolyte of the god Seth and founder of the cult of the dark god in Barliona.

  I had scarcely touched the object, when Barliona disappeared. For the first time in my short virtual life I’d found my way into an explanatory video. I felt a little lost. I was thrown right into the thick of things, yet at the same time my character did not exist for those around. A strange feeling.

  At first I was running among warriors, chasing a higher demon. We caught up to it easily in the Cave of Knowledge, cornered it, and finished it off. How we rejoiced in the victory! How we crowed over the loot we found in the trunks! How we ran riot, showering our friends with the gold received! It was a celebration. A celebration of the Light of Barliona warriors.

  Nobody remembered who found that damned glaive, or where, but it was forwarded to the Frontier together with its loot. Only a week had passed since the victory, but trouble was brewing in the ranks of the defenders. Half of them had fallen under the influence of the weapon and begun to prepare for the coming of the dark god, while the other half tried to hamper them, by killing their friends of the day before. Ten people survived the confrontation. They hid the glaive, dragged everybody down to the dungeon, and set booby traps. Against themselves. The survivors understood that reason could not oppose the subjugating power of the weapon for long, and they would soon be disciples of Seth. In order to save the world, they killed themselves by falling onto stakes. However, they didn’t account for Seth not setting them free even in death, the poor wretches. So they’d been castaways. Until we showed up.

  The surrounding space winked, and I returned to Eredani. My hands threw the glaive away by themselves.

  “Now that’s something I understand — visualization,” I said, still mesmerized. “How did you find it? Just by scraping the pick along the wall?”

  “Exhaustive search is not my method. Three-two-five-twenty. The ghost’s words wouldn’t give me any peace. He quoted a combination, but it wasn’t used anywhere. That doesn’t happen. What he showed us on the map was a decoy. The real loot was somewhere else. Third floor, second corridor, fifth room, twentieth niche! Simple as that.”

  “And what do I do with this godsend now?” I looked at the glaive. I absolutely did not want to become a cursed werewolf.

  “Now that’s a good question,” said Eredani disappointedly. “It would be stupid to give such a powerful weapon to anybody. You won’t be able to sell it for a fair price, and in keeping it we’d risk going mental. That thing is only of value if we destroy it and gain a big plus to reputation with the gods. It’s not the most cutting-edge thing in Barliona.”

  “So much hassle for so little result, “I said, understanding Victor’s disappointment. “Feed it to Aniram?”

  “That’s the most logical suggestion,” he agreed. “Trade it for a couple of months’ peace and quiet. No less. That thing is extremely energy intensive.”

  The demoness needed one glimpse of the glaive to make her cower in the farthest corner. When she began to hiss violently, we realized our plan had developed a flaw. Flattened against the ceiling, she trembled wildly, and her eyes and nostrils were wide with terror. Her long claws scratched at the stone walls, leaving deep marks. She looked dismal, so I deactivated her to keep her free from danger. The last thing I needed was to give her the kiss of death.

  “Hmm… An interesting reaction,” said Eredani, looking perplexed. “We must tweak our primary intention. I’ll put the glaive away in the inventory, and you summon Aniram again. We’re going to torture.”

  Aniram activated, immediately ready to clear out as far as possible, but glancing around hauntedly and not seeing the weapon, gasped with relief. “Don’t do that again!” She spoke to me for the first time since our visit to the barrows.

  “What exactly? I just wanted to give you a present. You were offended because of the guardian, and I wanted to placate you with the glaive.” I played dumb.

  “No!” Aniram jumped away again, thinking she would see the weapon. “Don’t you dare!”

  “I won’t, if you tell me the reason for your reaction. And please, make your answer comprehensive.” I had to scare her so she wouldn’t think of holding back information. She nodded obediently.

  “The demons are avoiding the dark god Seth.”

  “Avoiding or afraid of?” Eredani asked, but in reply received only a viperous cackle. I pointedly cleared my throat, and Aniram hurried to continue.

  “His world is the only one where the Abyss has no dominion. They exiled the demons from there and set a disgraceful tithe until the dark of night has the same rights as the light of day. Anything to do with Seth is taboo. Forbidden! No! Over! Choose the word you like best. If you wish to continue having anything to do with me, never mention Seth and never use his objects. Now let me go. The proximity of his power weighs heavy on me. I must resolve my consciousness.”

  I deactivated my pet and considered the new information. A timer appeared, indicating I couldn’t use Aniram’s abilities for the next twelve hours. I shared this news with my partner and suggested postponing the jaunt until the next day, but the tiefling rejected the idea. “No, we go now. The cave contains level-eleven demons. I’ll cope even without you. I only have a couple until fourteen. But first we must decide what to do with that thing.”

  “Leave it here?” I shrugged.

  “It’ll be found by locals or players. Not good either way. We can’t destroy it. Or throw it back into the niche — I destroyed it when I was hammering the wall.”

  “The abyss?”

  “I thought about that, but it has people diving into it all the time. What if somebody pulls it out?”

  “Then it won’t be our problem anymore… Wait! There’s a much simpler option — we take it to the Barrows and hand it over to the guardian. It can stay there.”

  “Good idea!” Eredani nodded thankfully and hid the glaive. “That’s what we’ll do. Let’s go. It’s time to become full-fledged tieflings.”

  We were lowered down from Dorel’s Frontier by rope. I reckoned Tarlin was relieved to see the back of us. Checking with the map all the way, we jogged to the closest mountain. The entrance to the cave we needed was right on its peak, way above the clouds. My partner kept turning round, on the lookout for demons, but we didn’t come across a single antagonist, even the most mediocre.

  Dorel’s Frontier divided the location into two large parts. On one side was a wide lake, prides of four archdemons, Hermit, and the training camp; on the other side a high mountain range covered the entire territory from north to south.
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br />   “We go that way,” said Eredani, checking with the map and pointing somewhere upward. We stood at the foot off the cliffs and, throwing our heads back, endeavoured in vain to see the top. Everything was obscured by mist.

  “Are we going to look for a path or head straight up?” I assessed the cliff, which rose at a very steep angle, promising a long and arduous ascent.

  “We’ll lose time, and we can’t be sure a path exists. We climb,” Eredani replied and, for some reason spitting on his palms, rushed to storm the forbidding crag. His zip and enthusiasm lasted for precisely five meters, at which point his bare hooves proved themselves inappropriate for conquering mountainous heights, slipping on the rock and whisking the hapless climber back down. Were it reality, he would have smashed himself up good and proper. As it was, he shook himself down, swore, and set off upwards again.

  “How persevering you are,” I noted after his third fall. It was quite dramatic: flat on his face from ten meters up, and a rock landing on him to add to the spectacle. He was saved by his level thirteen, but his HP dropped into the red zone. “Maybe we should look for a path after all?”

  “Fine,” he growled, shaking himself down and drinking a potion. “Right? Left?”

  “According to the map it’s straight up. Let’s go right.”

  We spent a good hour walking in circles in search of a gentler slope, but all we saw were overhanging scars, so we went back. “Shall we try locking tails like we did at the frontier?” I suggested, and he nodded his agreement. We interlaced our tails, turning them into safety ropes, so that if one of us fell, he’d take the other down with him and it wouldn’t be so galling.

  Eredani soon noted it was much easier climbing together, because if a rock slipped from under the hoof of one, the other could help by dragging him back. Mainly I was the unlucky one, but I did have to assist him on a few occasions, saving him from pain or rebirth. The problems started when we reached the snowline. I had to give him my boots, for his feet were mercilessly frozen. Scrambling up snow was harder than up stones, and we fought doggedly for each centimeter.

  How long were we climbing? An hour? Two? A day? Working on full autopilot, I lost track of time. When my hand reached out and didn’t meet with rock, I collapsed forward and thought that was it — falling and rebirth. But an unpleasant sensation in my coccyx made me look up, and I saw my partner pulling me away from the cliff edge. We had actually made it to where we needed to be.

  “D-d-demons,” Eredani stammered with the cold. It was a way to the top, and it was still concealed in an impenetrable whiteout, but the goal of our venture was elsewhere. We found ourselves on a small flat space which led into an ice cave, the entrance to which was guarded on either side by demons. Or rather what was left of them. Unable to desert their posts, the beasties had frozen to death.

  “Quick.” My partner pulled me inside the cave. The penetrating wind and cold, blowing sharp ice particles instead of soft snow, had caused him no little discomfort, and he was desperate to escape the elements.

  “Just a second,” I yelled over the noise of the wind, and activated Aniram. The demoness quivered and looked questioningly at me through unfocused eyes. Such snowy heights were not her favourite places.

  “Is there any call for warriors like that in your army?” I motioned toward the icy sculptures. She looked at the demons, extended a hand, and two semi-transparent threads drew themselves into it. The petrified idols crumbled to snowy ashes.

  “Thirty minutes for each,” she said and sheltered herself behind her wings. The timer twitched, dropping at once by an hour, and I dismissed her.

  As soon as we stepped inside the cave, a system window popped up.

  Notification for players entering the Cave of Knowledge

  Be ready, traveler, for battle draws near! You have entered the Cave of Knowledge, and the archdemons will spare no effort to kill you. They have already gathered their multitudinous forces and will soon be here.

  “We still have to survive until the archdemons,” Eredani noted philosophically, in confirmation of which a spear flashed out from the depths of the cave. We dropped to the floor as one and rolled away to opposite sides of the entrance. Following the spear came a crowd of level-eleven demon guardians dressed in prixi hides.

  “Charge!” I cried, bracing myself and drawing the glaive. My other hand reached into the inventory for a Frost Strike scroll. Unfortunately, I couldn’t activate it, since the system was categorically against it.

  Magic is inaccessible in the Cave of Knowledge.

  Eredani’s swearing, which sounded in unison with the piteous “Eat!”, was the last thing I remembered before the start of the death dance. I can’t argue that in terms of physical attack I was one hell of a fighter, but the camp had given me one or two close-combat skills too. Employing all the dance moves I’d learned, I skipped nimbly away from the enemy’s direct strikes and managed to do some attacking myself. We would have spent four strikes on in each demon instead of one, if I’d had Aniram’s abilities. By the end of the fight I’d lost a third of my HP, but I could be proud of myself: I had ten dead demons to my name, precisely half the attacking squadron.

  The snow-white light of level fourteen overcame me and Eredani simultaneously. After rejoicing in my new level for a moment or two, I rushed to disembowel the demon’s remains, having learned from Yasya’s infectious experience. Oddly, there were no blanks. Only coats and gauntlets of thin prixi leather to prevent frostbite. I was sceptical about the gear, but Eredani perked up and immediately tried on the new acquisitions.

  “We take everything. We can sell it later,” he said, his teeth chattering. Evidently the cold had had a negative effect on his brain power. What player in their right mind would buy such crap? No armor, just ten percent protection from the cold. I didn’t manage to open my mouth to make the frostbitten fool see sense, before another system notification popped up.

  Notification for players at the Demon-Hunter Training Camp location

  Call to arms! Demons have attacked Dorel’s Frontier! There is a direct teleport link with the training camp; see instructors for tasks and additional instructions.

  A reward to everyone who answers the call: a rare object, consistent with your level and specialization.

  Eredani was surprised they’d reached the frontier so soon.

  “It’s probably the first wave. R’Tan’s forces,” I suggested, recalling the map. “They’re not far from the frontier anyway. I think we should take this staircase.”

  Eredani picked up the glaive and trotted after me. The descent was quite steep, and we had to hug the wall. What we took at first for a stairway was actually just a small serpentine stone ledge. The lower we got, the warmer it got, and soon it was so hot Eredani risked removing his coat and gauntlets, nearly falling in the process.

  Taking small unhurried steps, we arrived at the next guardians’ position. Peering out from behind a rock, I saw ten demons sitting by a fire, and a strange creature hanging in a cage above it. The poor thing opened its mouth, but no sound came out.

  Kvalen: What’s this mummery? We can see the unfortunate devil screaming, so why can’t we hear anything?

  Eredani: We can’t hear because its howl together with its feelings of pain and fear are being absorbed by the demons. They’re feeding.

  Cursing Barliona’s scriptwriters, I spotted another cage in the far corner, and emitting from it was the already familiar crunch of wood being worked over. The prixis were awaiting their moment of glory on the fire, though they didn’t appear too worried about it. With Eredani gripping the glaive more comfortably, we attacked swiftly. The demons had no chance.

  “It’s empty,” I said, examining the loot disappointedly. “What’s up with that poor soul?”

  “Nothing good, I suspect. It’s some kind of dwarf.” Eredani kicked the cage from the fire and examined the screeching creature. The fire had burned all its hair, which made the fat little fellow look nothing like the average represe
ntative of the piedmont people. It groaned at every touch, and there was no evidence of intelligence in its eyes. Its properties introduced it as an “Anonymous Dwarf.”

  “Help me.” Eredani pulled out the pickaxe and struck the lock. The cage flew to the edge of the chasm, and I barely caught it to stop it falling. We were on an intermediate level, but the main a goal of our trek remained somewhere below.

  Two strikes, and the lock clicked, allowing the door to be opened and the obstinate Dwarf to be removed. Ignoring the protests and bleating, Eredani forced open the martyr’s mouth and poured in a restorative potion. To our chagrin, nothing changed — it didn’t come to its senses.

  “What now? Leave it here?” I asked.

  “It’ll get eaten. In theory we should take it with us.”

  The dwarf slipped from his hands and went to find a dark corner among the rocks to hide in. Which, honestly, it did well. Were it not for its shiny bald spot, its body would have been impossible to spot against the background of the cliffs.