The Azure Dragon

by Vladimir Vasilenko

  "You say it like you live in paradise here, and we come here to kill!" Doc protested. "Whereas every second, someone is eaten up in this madhouse! If not, then someone is chasing something to devour it. And if not chasing, then they are sitting in an ambush, waiting for someone to chase. And even then, if they aren't waiting in an ambush, they had already eaten something and, satiated, just resting.”

  "Doc, calm down! There seems to be something serious going on here."

  Bers shoved the necromancer in the ribs.

  "You're like hungry fish in muddy water," Bao continued. "Ready to jump the first prey. To make more informed decisions, you need to see the whole picture. To begin with, you need to understand who is stirring up the trouble."

  "Well, let's try to understand," Genghis nodded. "Let's start with this. We've been in Uobo for quite some time. Before that, we had skirmishes with vanaras from other tribes, too. However, lately, they seem to have gone mad. They destroyed our camp and tried to kill or capture all my people, whom they met in the jungle. Why is that?"

  "Your camp was in an important place of Power," Ngala admitted reluctantly, frowning. "We need it for the altar. If we could get around it, we would. We don't like fighting."

  "Yeah, it shows!" Doc smiled sarcastically.

  "I saw you ruthlessly kill a bunch of your own relatives from the tribe of the Celestial Tree," I said.

  "The shamans of the Celestial Tree refused to let us into their lands!" The skinny vanara grumbled. "They forced us to do that!"

  "It wasn't an easy decision for me to make, "Ngala bowed his head. "It's been a long time since vanara raised a paw on their kin. However, Mtamba is right—they left us no choice."

  "Just for the sake of building these stupid altars?" I asked. "Why do you even need them?"

  "We are building a network which will entangle Uobo and join all four great trees with the magical threads," Mtamba moved his hands in the air, depicting the curve of a rectangle. "By combining the power of all the trees, we will send it to Ngala's staff. And if the Azure Dragon is merciful to us, that should be enough."

  "Enough for what?" Terekhov asked.

  "To stop Hanuman," Ngala said grimly. "The monkey king has completely lost his mind. He came under the influence of Lord of the Underworld and wants to give Artar to the demons of the Abyss."

  "That's what I was afraid of," Bao shook his head ruefully. "But what do you hope to achieve by uniting the forces of the eternal trees? Are you trying to incinerate Hanuman by summoning the Azure Dragon spirit? You do realize that even that can't kill the monkey king, right?"

  "We know that Hanuman will rise again," said Ngala. "However, it will not be the same Hanuman. And he'll be cured of his crazy idea of colluding with Hton."

  "You cannot know that, venerable one."

  "No, we can't, Xilay. We can only hope."

  We fell silent, listening to the conversation of the NPCs, but then Doc chuckled and scratched his head.

  "Wow... The local monkeys have outpaced the development of their relatives from real life! Those know how to stack boxes to get a banana that is hanging too high. And these ones figured out that a malfunctioning program can be rebooted."

  Ngala could hardly hear what he said. And if he did, he probably didn't understand much. But he glared at the necromancer in such a way that Doc drew back his shoulders and stepped back, hiding behind Bers's shoulder.

  "I don't get it," the redhead turned to the others. "It turns out that we stood up for the wrong guy? Hanuman pulled a fast one on us?"

  "Who knows," Terekhov grimaced. "We just need to figure out which side to take now. Which will be more profitable for us?"

  "Profit!" Ngala uttered contemptuously, hearing his words. "That's exactly what I was talking about! The hairless will betray anyone for profit!"

  "But they can be useful," Bao said. "If you give them what they need, they can help you defeat the monkey king. They are strong warriors, as you have just seen. It is better to have them on your side than to fight them and Hanuman at the same time."

  The shaman shook his head again, irritably, and frowned, his lower jaw protruding. This made him look even more like a gorilla daubed in war paint. However, his deep-set dark eyes shone with human intelligence. He looked at us warily, and finally, hitting the ground with the end of his staff, nodded.

  "Alright. I will speak to your leader."

  Genghis and Terekhov almost simultaneously stepped forward and collided shoulders. I thought they'd be at each other's throats again, but it looked like they were both out of heat. Perhaps, prudence took over.

  "Speak to everyone," Genghis muttered. "I have no secrets from my people. And each of them can say what they think."

  Ngala turned to the remnants of his army. The vanara soldiers sat a little further away, licking their wounds.

  "I also speak on the behalf of the tribe," he nodded. "And on behalf of the Whisperer."

  He sat down on the ground, his legs tucked under him, and placed the staff in front of him. Mtamba, Bao, and the Hounds followed his example. There was a rough circle, only lacking fire in the center, or peace pipe to pass around. However, the vanaras either had no rites like this, or we have not yet earned the honor.

  "So you need our help," Genghis stated. "What exactly are you going to do?"

  Despite the fact that the shaman agreed to negotiate, he began his story with obvious reluctance. Apparently, the need to talk to those he once considered sworn enemies, made him weary. However, he was able to overcome this for the higher purpose.

  Of course, he was just an NPC, and all his torment was simply a result of the default settings, such as the level of reputation with us, goals, scripts, and other nonsense. I had little idea how modern artificial intelligence worked. And maybe that's why it was so easy for me to forget that we were dealing with an eidetic simulation, not a real person. For me personally, his emotions were no less real than my own.

  By the way, everything was bubbling inside me. Fucking Hanuman! He'd been fooling us from the start, and me in the first place! He made me believe that it was the shamans of the Whispering Oak who went balls-to-the-wall crazy and started stirring things up, whereas he was the Savior of his homeland, his jungle, someone who could not intervene personally, because he did not want to harm his precious subjects. What a freaking joke!

  "We have already joined many Sources into one," Ngala said at last. "We have connected the Whispering Oak tree and the Celestial Tree. The larger our network, the more powerful it is. When we first started, Hanuman was in our way, destroying the altars we had built. But now that they're united, he can't do it. This network protects us. Hanuman's power is weak in its boundaries. He is afraid of us now and does not come to our lands."

  "So, he can't come here?" Bers said.

  The shaman shook his head.

  "What if he uses a messenger?" I asked. "Hanuman has talked to me through the cub of the Celestial Tree tribe that I saved."

  The cub, by the way, escaped at the beginning of the battle and never returned. I even got a little upset—I had already become attached to the kid. I even thought about keeping him. In real life, I have never had a pet, not even a cat. The little monkey was funny. I actually started to think of a name for him.

  Ngala shook his head again.

  "So, you need to extend your network to also include the Eternal Bunyan and Jubacca?" Bao asked.

  "Yes. We've already moved far south. To gain power of Jubacca, we only need to build one altar right next to the Tree of Death. However, to do this, we need to somehow negotiate with its keepers."

  "That's why you captured the prisoners," Terekhov nodded.

  "Yes. After you escaped, we found other victims. But... it didn't work out."

  "The Jubacca did not accept the sacrifice?" Bao squinted.

  "They did," sadly smiled Mtamba. "And then they wanted to feed us to the Tree. The Tree of Death will never be satisfied."

  "Then we must use force," concluded Geng
his.

  The shaman nodded.

  "Suppose we help you," Terekhov said. "But first, what can you offer us in return?"

  Ngala grimaced, clearly intending to say something sarcastic about the greed of the hairless but restrained himself. After all, why would he think that we should help him without getting something in return?

  "What do you want?" He finally squeezed out.

  "A truce," replied Genghis. "For a start."

  "A truce with the hairless?! That's impossible!" The skinny vanara croaked, almost jumping up from his seat.

  "Not with all of them. Just with us. And for a specific period. Let's say, for the next three months. You can kill other hairless people as soon as they step into Uobo. We'll even benefit from it."

  "What's a month?"

  "Ten sunrises three times," Genghis spread his fingers, showing what "ten" meant.

  The shamans looked at each other and nodded almost simultaneously.

  "The second requirement is that you allow us to return to our old camp. We aren't going to touch your altar for the time you need it."

  Another simultaneous nod, and this time there was a longer pause after.

  "And one more thing," Terekhov intervened. "Hanuman promised us a reward…"

  He nodded to me, and I reached back into inventory for the adamantite.

  "Fiery tears!" Ngala stared at it. "Hanuman is completely out of his mind if he gives away Uobo treasures to the hairless!"

  "We need another one," the paladin smiled coolly.

  At this time, the shamans could not make a decision. I even thought they'd fight. Finally, Ngala, looking at us from under his brows, summed up:

  "Well, your greed isn't surprising, but we really need your help. We'll tell you where to find another fiery tear. It is just in the lands of Jubacca, under the roots of the Tree of Death. So, by going there, we'll get both bases covered. Well, now…"

  He leaned forward, placing the knuckles on his long, hairy legs on the ground.

  "Now it's my turn to talk about what we need. We need a squad of your most powerful fighters to go with us to the Jubacca land and fight there for us, not sparing your skins. Today. And after that, you support us in the war with Hanuman to the end."

  "We need to consult," said Genghis.

  Ngala frowned, but after thinking a bit, casually waved his paw, giving a sign that he didn't mind.

  We got to our feet and huddled face-to-face like a basketball team during a timeout. Genghis looked at everyone. Only Laurel and Kali were his only survivors while Terekhov had Doc, Bers, Daniel, Kata, and myself. But Genghis still tried to make it all about himself, considering himself the chief commander.

  "I'm inclined to agree to this deal, but first, I need to understand what issues you're having with Hanuman."

  "Does it really make a difference now?" Terekhov snapped.

  "Yes, it does! Especially if it could somehow interfere with the new deal."

  "We promised Hanuman to kill the head shamans of the Whispering Oak. In return, he helped us find the fiery tears before you did."

  Genghis grinned like an angry dog but said nothing.

  "We know about the compass and that your main task was to find adamantite," Terekhov finished him off. "And that you deliberately set us against the vanaras so that neither we nor they would get in your way."

  "Not exactly," said Genghis. "The problem with vanaras also must be addressed. That's why I want this hairy bastard to call a truce. We need to stay in Uobo for at least another three months of local time."

  "Why?"

  "Clam's mission. We need to block this location from the expansion of other guilds. Primarily, from the Corsairs. If they gain access to Uobo resources, they will get too strong, especially considering the war of the Red Legion and Rangers, Rusty Axes and the Dark side."

  "I see. Well, in that case, the outlook is pretty damn simple. We should help the vanaras. This is also in our interests."

  "There is just one thing... I didn't receive any system notifications," Laurel intervened. "There's nothing about the reputation change with vanaras, nor about obtaining the quest. Anyway, this whole mess looks nothing like a standard quest."

  "So what? The reward is real," Kali shrugged.

  "We've had this before," Terekhov said. "Last time we received a lead on a gold mine in the Gray Peak thanks to a strange undocumented quest. Which, by the way, you already got your hands on."

  "Not a good time for making claims! Okay, agreed. At the same time, we will make a sortie to the south. Few of the players got so deep into the jungle. We generally know about the Jubacca only from commercials. So this is our chance."

  "Yeah, get wipe out a couple more times," Kali grimaced but did not object.

  "We agree," Genghis said loudly, turning to the shamans. "We need a little time to get our unit back together. I'll meet you at the same place."

  Ngala nodded silently.

  "I'm glad you reached an understanding," bowing to both parties, proclaimed Weyun Bao. "That concludes my mission here, and I will return to the Gray Peak. However, I can't help but remind you of another circumstance…"

  "What else do you want, Xilay?" Grumpy inquired Mtamba.

  "You said you needed to combine the power of all four great trees to defeat Hanuman. For example, teaming up with hairless, you will be able to build a Jubacca altar. But what are you going to do about the Eternal Banyan tree? The surroundings of the Lake of Life are the undivided patrimony of Hanuman. He would never let you even get close to the tree!"

  "By then, the strength of the other three great trees will be concentrated in our paws," Ngala said. "We hope that will be enough to force the monkey king to retreat."

  "That's risky," Xilay shook his head doubtfully.

  The shaman reacted to his words with a sudden rage.

  "Yes, you fucking cat, it's risky! But we are doing everything to stop Hanuman! I shed the blood of my brothers! That's why I cut a deal with the ugly hairless people. I'll give my life if I have to for this cause. I'm willing to take the risk!"

  "I have no doubt of your courage and dedication, venerable one," Bao bowed. "I'm just afraid that the risk might turn into a tragedy."

  "What if someone distracts Hanuman?" I intervened. "And while he is distracted, you can plant your altar at the Eternal Banyan."

  "The monkey king is mad, but not stupid," Ngala snorted. "By then he'll know we've closed in on him. And it will protect the Eternal Banyan tree to the last. We won't be able to coax him out."

  "Well, there is one way," I chuckled.

  "What's that?"

  The Hounds also looked at me curiously. I held the pause for a moment, enjoying the effect, and declared:

  “A candidate for the title of Master of the Wood Element can challenge Hanuman. And as far as I know, he must respond this summons."

  Chapter 21. Under the Shadow of Death

  "Oh, I don't like this," Doc grumbled, glancing sourly through the bars of the rough wooden cage.

  "How did I know you were going to say that!" Sting laughed. "Well, what's wrong with that? We travel with comfort…"

  Our cage, indeed, resembled a kind of palanquin: two hefty vanaras dragged it by the poles attached to the bottom. Five of us—myself, Doc, Sting, Kata, and Edge fit in it. Additionally, Karachun was here too, but the lich was in a degraded state and looked more like a pile of bones wrapped in rags. Doc explained that it was a matter of minutes to resurrect him, but he was in no hurry, for obvious reasons.

  The rest of the Hounds, too, were locked up. Most of them had four people, sometimes three if they were heavy-armored fighters like Dan and Bison. The cages, made of rough poles and bones of large animals, resembled the ones the vanaras used for their captives. Despite the unsightly appearance, they were quite strong. In addition, in case the prisoners suddenly raged and tried to break out from the inside, the vanaras had primitive spears made of pointed bamboo stems, and their shamans had more frightening resources. For exa
mple, spells that let a swarm of wasps loose on the unfortunate ones.

  Doc told us about their array of tools remembering his own imprisonment in the past. But now vanaras had no need for all these precautions because we were sitting still. In addition to that, the cages were made in a way that allowed us to open them from the inside. But still it was somehow uncomfortable. Even the spell of Return was locked because the system associated our status as prisoners.

  We could only hope that since we were able to deceive the system, we could do the same with the Jubacca vanaras. Hopefully, they would also believe in this Trojan horse masquerade.

  The plan proposed by Ngala was simple. If we were just snooping around, armed, on Jubacca ground, we would have to fight our way through. Instead the shamans put up a play for the adepts of the Tree of Death. The Whispering Oak tribesmen were allegedly trying to appease the fraternal tribe again, and for this purpose, they brought an even more generous sacrifice. Three dozen hairless victims! This allowed our procession to go through and avoid hold-ups, so we had a chance to freely get to the heart of Jubacca.

  At the same time, there was another couple of dozen strong vanaras disguised as porters in the delegation without causing any suspicion. Finally, the procession was headed by three head shamans. The third shaman, who died during the battle of the Whispering Oak, quickly revived. Intelligent mobs generally respawned quicker than NPCs. They didn't really die, they just passed out for a while. Their bodies, just like players, disappeared but then appeared again near the place of their death.

  We had to enter the game when we got to the Tree of Death. Going from there, we had a few options: we could continue playing the role of victims or fight for our lives to the end. Moreover, there was nowhere to retreat.

  Doc made sense, indeed. Personally, I didn't like this whole idea either.

  The jungle around us changed. There wasn't a trace of green bushes left. We trudged along the gray ash-strewn ground, and the plants around us were more like bunches of limp tentacles, some of which moved when our porters came too close. Huge shorea trees didn't grow here either. Instead, there were short trees with gray bark and gnarled branches. There was no foliage left, so they just creaked their naked boughs above our heads. I wanted to believe that that was the wind that made them move, and not anything else.