The Way of the Clan 8

by Dem Mikhaylov

  “More than sure!”

  "Shut all the hatches! If you do not have time to take something – leave! Make an extra “fish call!” All together now!”

  At that moment, I received a message from Kirea the Protectress, saying that they had safely taken refuge inside the flagship. I let out a sigh of relief. I could rely on Kira. And on Doc with Bom and Cray — they also sent similar messages. These were regular people. Unlike my daughter, Orbit and Kaylen.

  “Attention! Flash on top! CLOUDS active! We are under attack!”

  "Protect the bridges! Malice! Ready?”

  “Ready!”

  “At the count of "one"! Three…”

  The flagship had almost reached the tiny rocky islet. A plain rock that protruded from the water. A dark, gloomy stone littered with smaller whitish pebbles.

  “Two!”

  The hissing sound from the sky grew louder, and a bell rang.

  "And ... and ... wait ... again!"

  The bridge left for a moment from under my feet I grabbed the railing with a shout, looking with an unbelieving gaze at the roaring water going upwards. No! Not riding! We were going down! Under the water!”

  “Hold on!”

  With a roar, the flagship fell through the water at an incredible speed. Like a stone block. The unsteady bubble of magical defense surrounding us dangerously fluttered, barely withstanding the tension of the elements.

  We were under water!

  Leaning over the railing, I looked down – we were about fifty meters from the bottom. A tall stone rock slowly sailed past – the island of Death, the very basis of it. And around us there was a continuous frenzy of thousands and thousands of fish! We were surrounded by distraught herring and clouds of sea bottom mud! There were even more fish! Thousands! Thousands more! It was actually scary to look at this frenzy...

  Hit!

  The next moment, I was blind.

  Behind my eyelids, there was a flash…

  Hit!

  The second hit was much stronger. The flagship swung, the water roared furiously, and lightning struck in all directions, evaporating the fish by the hundreds and disappearing. But the fish stocks replenished — thousands and thousands of fish were attacked by the creatures that got into the water, who began to tear them to pieces. The favorite spell of commercial anglers. I did not think that this spell could be used as a living, active shield – it had taken a double blow.

  The flagship continued to go forward – at a speed that was slowing down, as it was sinking to the bottom — but it continued to go forward, leaving behind it the fish and enemy creatures.

  “Malice! Come on! We have less than ten seconds!” The cry of the BB sounded in the bubble like a ringing alarm.

  “Here!”

  There was a groan. The flagship tensed and slowly jerked upwards.

  “Submariners! Come on!”

  Then came the screams of the gigantic dinosaurs who waited for CLOUD's blows underneath us. They began to push us upwards, helping us overcome the water.

  “Come on, come on-n-n, dear,” the BB said, looking up at the brightening water surface. “Come on ...”

  “There!”

  With a deafening noise, the flagship giant escaped to the surface of the ocean, at the same time pulling out several tens of thousands of fish. Protective oxygen bubbles burst, and fresh air struck our faces. The masts fell with a crash, our sails bursting, the guns and combs falling into the sea.

  Surrounded by a halo of foamy water, debris, and dying enemies, the flagship Black Queen rose from the dead and aimed with a blunt, threatening nose at the sails of the enemy straight ahead.

  “Turn around as soon as possible! Repair the ship! Prepare for battle! Fleet! Listen to my command! Direct offensive on the enemy!

  "Ay-ay, captain!" The roar of hundreds of enthusiastic players filled the air above the ocean and spread for many miles around. And it seems that I had yelled out with the others...

  Chapter Twelve.

  Island of immortality. Plans for revenge. Course to the northeast. Hostile archipelago.

  To several wild cries of delight, well-deserved ovations and jubilant whistles, as well as the roar of the dragons, the Black Baroness reacted favorably, allowing herself to freeze still for five seconds. No one thought to interrupt her microscopic rest – before our eyes, the brown-eyed girl had pulled out a giant stone flagship from an inevitable death ... she had really done it.

  But she did not rest for long. She shrugged her shoulders and shook her head — after all, she has the Decay also, same to me. The head of the Sleepless said:

  “So! Here we are. What’s up with our Alcatraz?”

  "Everything is in full swing. Hellfire. Our Baron arrived in time, and now tries to break from the coast to the epicenter. A dozen dragons, twenty griffins and a hundred pteras arrived. The Griffins of the North are still on our side,” came the immediate response.

  "And we will remember that. But tell the Baron — let him not rejoice too much. I do not believe anyone until they prove loyalty.”

  “I'm passing it on.”

  "And add to the message that we will not be able to close the distance — we cannot teleport. But until they drive the enemy away from the island and break them down, they should not even think about returning.”

  "Got it… I'm conveying it."

  “The Citadel?”

  “Also holding strong. But there is a lull there. Still, the orcs and other creatures continue to approach in packs. Analysts are sure that the next attack will be unpretentious – a direct blow by huge forces. They will try to crush our defenses with the number of troops.”

  “Pass the message on— have them wait to strike on other zones. They planned attacks on our main points, our troops are concentrated there. Strengthened the defense, expose the small villages, farms, forts. They will go for those places. Be sure to get them then. In small groups of up to a dozen fighters. Then repeat. And let them spend a lot of gold and hire as many "local" guards, militiamen, robbers, pirates and others as they can afford. And do not be heroic. Clear?”

  “Clear.”

  “Our task for the next four hours is to stabilize the situation. They tried to overturn us with one blow. We resisted, but still we rock – and in general copy the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

  “We will straighten it…”

  “Yes. In that case, take a defensive stand. Blind defense! Curl up in a ball, bristle up, grin, stand still and wait for my order. No unauthorized attacks! Tell me about it first!”

  “OK — on it.”

  “Avriil, all forces to rebuild the table. It pretty messed up, as I see it. Some pieces are lost. We need the main tools.”

  “Got it, Cap!”

  “Of those who are directly behind — they seem to be trying to turn away. Do not let them go! Tell the twenty ships to get ahead and sink the fleeing enemy to the bottom! Let them take a dozen sharks with achilots for reinforcements.”

  “Let us do it!”

  “Go on. And I will go around the flagship...” In a second the girl disappeared, gone off the bridge like a swift shadow. Off to count the losses and estimate the recovery plan.

  I heard her voice from a distance:

  "Send Malice to sleep! No time limit! Let him sleep until I call him! Ros! How are you?”

  "I am holding on," I answered. "I really am, do not even think about me.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Of course, not at all. You pay me for it and very generously. So do not think about me. I will hold out for a few more hours.”

  “OK.”

  Players crowded around the tables, beginning to estimate future actions. And I looked at the ocean, looking back at the stone island we left behind.

  A black mourning stone. The white scattering of smaller stones were skulls. And bones. And the skulls and bones there were only human. There were no skulls of Orcs, Elves, Gnomes or anyone else, be they intelligent creatures or beasts. The island was strewn with h
uman scaly skulls. The official name of the rock was the Islet of Immortality. Sarcastic as it sounds. But it corresponded to reality.

  The fact was that one immortal creature dwelled on the island. Feathered, ungainly, beaky. On his chest hung a chain with a sign that had an amazing inscription: "You are here and not there!" On one of the paws, a dull golden ring gleamed dully.

  It was a bird. A flightless bird.

  And more precisely, a Dodo.

  And the island itself was a monument, a memorial dedicated to the birds exterminated by the human race. I heard this story in one of Valdira's taverns. It seemed that I was sitting in the tavern of the Akelrome. Celebrating the performance of a long, exhausting task. And among the numerous stories I heard, this story stuck out – about the fact that this terrible island existed, an unfriendly rock to the north-west of Roghalrome. And there, on the pier, lived an immortal bird. One blow could kill ANYONE. Maybe even a god – though it was true, that none of them ever appeared there. The bird itself could not be killed by anything. Once they struck five meteors in a row on the island. The Dodo did not even blink after swimming through the hellfire. And those who fired at it received terrible curses for several days, cutting down all stats, skills, spells, the level of mana and life!

  The Dodo was untouchable.

  If you just land on the island – he will not touch you. But only if you are NOT human. He hates humans and kills them at once. If you touch one of the skulls – or try to take it — you will be killed.

  The dodo did not leave the island. The skill of the trapper plays no part — they had tried to catch the bird many times and died. The plump bird easily tore any nets and chains, broke cages, spits in the face of any magic, and its plumage could not be punched by any weapon. This was the terminator in bird form.

  The Dodo was immortal, and that was that. An angelic halo shone over his head.

  Rumor called this place the Island of Death. Sometimes the Island of Terror. And no one came here. Especially not people.

  Although many people were curious about the Dodo. The stats and titles were not readable, which stirred even more interest.

  Soon the island finally disappeared behind the stern. And so did the dodo memorial.

  The amber ray beating from my chest was pointing slightly to the east. We continued to deviate from the course indicated. Apparently, there were reasons. The flagship again became an escort – combat and transport ships returned to the water around us. The dragons reared over us again. The Black Queen slowly gained momentum.

  Glancing back one last time, I involuntarily thought about the double blow of enemy CLOUDs — and the island with an immortal Dodo. The clan punches had hit, and suddenly the flagship had dived in close contact with the terrible rock. But CLOUDS were generated by the clans themselves — which was logical. Only a couple of players were entrusted with sufficient power to do this – to activate such a powerful force, inflict such a treacherous blow. But the immortal dodo was extremely vindictive and rewarded any offender with the curse…

  I scratched the back of my head in thought. What happened? Did these two clan leaders get a curse on their heads? Well, if not the leaders themselves, then those who pressed the red buttons of the "nuclear" strikes ... a mystery. I hoped I would find out the answer, someday. However, the Baroness had clearly hoped for such an outcome – otherwise, why would we have to go so near the island?

  A new wave of cold reminded us of Decay. The main thing to do was not to fall asleep, not to break, to remain active and to continue to think about smart topics. I needed to hold on.

  "Your coffee, sir,” with a somewhat mocking but inoffensive bow, I was handed a new liter mug filled with the blessed fragrant drink.

  A graceful, yellow-haired, twenty-seventh-level girl, with a pair of sabers on her belt and a crossbow behind her, looked at me with obvious compassion.

  “Thanks,“ I said, taking the drink. “Thank you.”

  “Oh, not at all. I will take care of you temporarily, so that nothing too bad or too good happens to the precious carcass of the navigator. You, for us, are like dodo on the island we left behind us — just as important and unique. But, sorry to say, not immortal...”

  "Heh ... but I have an immortal soul ... will we continue this course for a long time?”

  “Who knows,” shrugged the girl with the nickname Sylvie-Goldie. “We pull the allied ships towards us like a magnet. And the enemy remains at large. But one thing I can say for sure is that we will continue to go forward past the rocks. And then ... the real campaign will begin. Remember, sir — the teleport to the mainland will no longer be active.”

  “I've already heard the sad news.”

  “And we are already famous. Incredibly quickly. Lots of photos were taken right from the scene.”

  “What you mean?”

  “A friend of mine has just written to me, he is sitting on a warm bench in the Celestial Park of Algora and reading the Messenger, released a quarter of an hour ago. The first few pages, back and front, are dedicated to us. Moreover, the journalist who wrote the article seemed to be personally present here...”

  “Hmm ...”

  “Yes. Want a copy? A thousand will be sent here.”

  “A thousand?! Where so much?!”

  “The order of the BB. She saw it, and immediately ordered it. To raise the already high spirit of the fleet personnel. Everyone already knows how cool we are, but we were not the height of self-praise... She ordered several dozen be distributed to each ship.”

  "Ha ... propaganda ... I would read it. And I will have a dozen for my friends.”

  “Well, when I see it, I will send it immediately. I will be around.”

  “Cool.”

  My guardian angel was gone, and I thought about the new information.

  The article in the Bulletin's release was almost certainly job of Kaylen. She went on without end. If it was her — how much did she earn? The thought was not from greed or envy — I was just wondering. And if there was another journalist among us – then Miss Kaylen Seeker would be gnawing at her nails, cursing the competitor. The life of a military journalist was hard. The competition does not stop...

  Which reminds me. After the war in Valdira appeared one of the legends about sunken or shattered continents — as a result of a cataclysm. There was once a great ancient civilization that amazed everyone by its achievements in all fields without exception. Reached incredible heights. Looked down at everyone, contemptuously covering her eyes and sticking out her lower lip. And then the civilization fell — why it was not known, but something very bad had happened. And one rainy day the arrogant leaders of progress all died out like dinosaurs. That was the legend of Atlantis, only in Valdira.”

  The essence of it was many islands, located somewhere to the north-west of the gnomes capital of the Hradalrome. The islands were located in a sort of arc, reminiscent of a wide braid broken into pieces. The weather there was severe, snowy and stormy. Typhoons there were not uncommon, clouds of gloom hanging low, icebergs pushing their way through the sea as spectators in a crowded cinema hall. The water was hidden by a cover of snow and ice — a simple merchant ship would not pass there, and the farther to the north you went the worse it was. How did I know this? Well, someone had suggested that I hunt for black walruses. But when I looked through the encyclopedia, evaluated the snowy fields, hummocks, icebergs and gloomy black stones sticking out of this mush, I was skeptical, and then politely declined the invitation. And then went to the west of Algora, where I spent several days hunting other animals, without feeding my old snowy phobia.

  Again, you could not get to the islands by teleporting. Only by water or air. Well, or by walking on the bottom of the sea. The continent was very far away. And players are impatient. They do not want to sit on the deck for hours and stare at the icebergs floating overboard. The people who live there are severely broken. They are there for a reason.

  For me, the main problem was in the mental plane. Again th
ere was the cursed snow, the ice and the dark leaden waters. My phobia woke up — the local landscape reminded me of the place of imprisonment in the Far North. And what surprised me was that Kira understood me, sitting side by side and comforting me. And then I saw my father descend from the bow bridge and reach almost to the middle of the flagship — but then he stood there for a while, and returned back, constantly glancing at the first glacier that appeared. Did my father feel guilty? Something was changing the old man ... it was necessary to talk to my mother, to find out why he had begun to “soften” so. Perhaps his age?

  The iceberg passing us actually shocked the imagination. A few tens of meters up and just as big in the sides. A sort of ice table floating southwards, not knowing that the water there was much warmer and that its fate was to be an ice cube was waiting in a glass of whiskey. Personally, we did not face the fate of the Titanic – the flagship would easily smash the iceberg into pieces with one blow of the blunt nose.

  On the white shiny surface, there were many melted places and deep cracks. The upper part of the floating mountain was obviously cut off. There were the remains of some structures, large nests covered with snow-covered shields. Wow ... this was not a simple iceberg. It was a real floating fort! A mobile ice fortress drifting over the local waters.

  I knew perfectly well that our phoenixes – those of a very old age – had a special punching skill, which was something like “red-hot knife through butter". The idea was that the fiery bird soars up, folds its wings, envelops itself in a halo of unthinkable heat, and flies at full speed into a snow or ice fortification, piercing through it, killing and throwing out defenders. And if I know about such use of the Phoenix then great warriors of Sleepless know it for sure. An ice fortress would not have lived a couple of minutes against a single Phoenix link. And if on their backs riders in fireproof armor and with a big stock of life sit – that and even less.

  To send such an ice fortress against the Sleepless armada ... this was the same as if I were to scoop up a handful of snow and throw it at the frontal armor of a battle tank. The effect would be the same ... a spot on the armor and feisty mug tanker screaming, "you son of a...! Fire!"