Avatar of Light
Page 1
Avatar of Light
a novel
by Dmitry Bilik
Interworld Network
Book#2
Magic Dome Books
Interworld Network
Book #2: Avatar of Light
Copyright © Dmitry Bilik 2019
Cover Art © Vladimir Manyukhin 2019
English translation copyright © Irene and Neil P. Woodhead 2019
Editors: Irene and Neil P. Woodhead
Published by Magic Dome Books, 2019
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 978-80-7619-077-1
This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to the shop and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.
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Table of Contents:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 1
HEROES IN SHINING ARMOR never embarrass themselves. I can’t remember any that had normal human ailments or diseases. Things like toothache, diarrhea and hemorrhoids give them a wide berth. Whatever problems they face are inevitably of the noble kind.
If they get their arm lopped off, they’ll be fighting with only one hand, doubling their righteous fury. If they receive a full burst of submachine gun fire, they’ll soldier on, helping their wounded friends to safety. And even if they get a bullet in the gut, they’ll make sure they smoke all their enemies before they lie down and croak.
Judging by all of the above, I was nowhere near a hero. I was scared. I hurt so bad I wanted to wail with pain. Blood gushed out of my practically disemboweled belly.
The hill was dusty; my wound might turn septic, I thought. Can you imagine? You’d think that was the least of my problems!
Still, so far I’d managed to brave it, suppressing the desire to scream and sob in agony. It might sound funny but the thing that gave me strength wasn’t the thought of my helpless friends or even the knowledge of the threat looming over humanity. No: it was common pride, pure and simple. I just couldn’t lose face in front of this jeering abomination of a god.
And as for the Avatar… it had turned out to be a strange thing, really. Once I’d equipped it, the world seemed to have come into focus, as if I were a myopic patient given a pair of glasses. I could make out barely visible wisps of gray smoke snaking up over Arts, Hunter and Litius. And as for the Darkest One, you couldn’t see jack next to him, so enveloped was he in his own smog. Apparently, a Divine Avatar allowed you to see other people’s respective karmas.
Funnily enough, Traug turned out to belong to the Light side. His skin glowed like freshly-driven snow in the sun in February. Appearances can indeed be deceptive.
Okay, so I could see people’s karmas, fair enough. Was that it? Somehow I didn’t think a Divine Avatar could be so tight-fisted with its gifts. There had to be something else.
Soon I found it: a few meager lines at the very bottom of the interface.
You’ve unblocked a Divine Avatar: Savior. Unlocking additional abilities requires 2000 pt. Light Karma.
Current abilities:
Righteous Fire
Deals 5,000 pt. damage, ignoring any of your opponent’s magic and/or physical defenses. Distance weapon. Maximum range: 30 ft. Cooldown: 7 days
Transformation of Liquids
Allows the Avatar bearer to transform any available liquid into any other of his or her choice. Close-range ability requiring the user to touch the liquid-containing vessel. Cooldown: 1 day
Resurrection
Allows the Player to resurrect after a certain period of time. Cooldown: 30 days
Select the time and date of your next resurrection
I looked at the Resurrection bar which was currently at zero. That was interesting. Apparently, the ability arrived inactive. I inched the slider to the right; the first notch was marked “3 days”.
Excuse me? Why did it take so long? Never mind. The most important thing was, I could resurrect, no matter how crazy it sounded. Good enough.
Which meant that the Chorul had been right. I did indeed have a chance to make it. That also brought Janus’ motives into focus. The Destroyer’s Avatar must have given him some kind of defense imba ability while the Savior had the Righteous Fire and the Resurrection abilities, making him one of the most powerful gods — if not the most powerful.
There was another thing in favor of him owning Savior: it would allow him to neutralize the Righteous Fire which ignored the Destroyer God’s defenses. Probably. I might have to try and check it out.
Health 13/60
Health 12/60
The Darkest One wasn’t in a hurry to deal me a coup de grace. He was basking in the moment, talking non-stop. He probably hadn’t seen any of those movies where villains talk too much instead of getting their act together.
Very w
ell. It looked like I might have to once again take control. I turned my head to Hunter and yelled,
“Run!”
My scream turned out truly blood-curdling, filled with desperate primal fear. No idea what my mentor must have read in my eyes but he got the message. He didn’t run, no, but he began to retreat fast without turning his back to the Darkest One.
Who apparently didn’t like it. The Two-Faced God shot up and darted toward me — and I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to ask about my health. He needed the sword which until now I’d managed to hold rather deftly in the wound with my stomach muscles, ignoring all the blood loss.
Which was exactly what I counted on.
As soon as his hand lay on the sword’s hilt, I grabbed at both with my bloodied hand, losing 4 pt. health in the process. My every movement was pure unadulterated agony. But the thing was, I grabbed this two-timing bastard so hard he had no hope of dodging. Then I activated Righteous Fire.
It was a terrible sight, I tell you. Under the gust of a fiery tornado, the god’s skin turned black and flaky like paper. His facial muscles went up like sulfur thrown on a bonfire. What meager layer of fat he’d had began to sizzle, boiling and evaporating.
It happened fast — way too fast. Before he’d had chance to cry out, Two-Face turned into a skeleton consumed by flames.
You’ve killed a Player who was hostile to you.
A change in development branch available: Two-Face. In order to activate it, you need to select it as your new development branch within the next 24 hours.
You’ve gained a Divine Avatar: Destroyer.
You’ve gained the Lability skill.
You’ve gained the Freeze spell.
Your fame has increased to 4.
Your reputation has changed to Badass.
This god, this superhuman, one of the greatest Players in history, had been reduced to a charred skeleton billowing thick clouds of steam and a sickly rancid stench. Gradually the skeleton began to crumble apart, turning to ashes which swiftly scattered in the wind.
Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to fully enjoy this nauseating scene.
It all happened too quickly and with no poetic hoo-ha. One moment the world was there; then it was gone. It was as if someone had switched off the lights and disabled all sounds and smells. Everything disappeared, me included: my body, my thoughts, my mind. The world had ceased to exist, and so had I.
* * *
Before I’d even opened my eyes, I knew it smelled of my childhood: a mixture of the warm wool used to knit socks and something old-fashioned but strangely pleasant, like the mothballs they used to keep in wardrobes. It brought back memories of mornings at my grandmother’s whenever my parents left me at her place for the weekend. I’d wake up, run my hand over the wooly Turkmen carpet hanging on the wall, then I’d stretch and finally get up.
Mechanically my fingers reached out for its luxurious Oriental beauty. I cringed: the wall was bare and cold, no sign of the carpet at all. Which meant I wasn’t eight years old anymore and this wasn’t my grandma’s place.
Where was I, then? I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings.
I was in a small room with a bed, a tiny table and a chair, dimly lit by a glass lantern with a tiny winged fluorescent creature fluttering inside. I’d seen something like this before somewhere.
A vaguely familiar beastman was sitting on the chair, his figure emanating a grayish whisper of smoke. I willed the Divine Avatar away from my face and looked at Litius through my normal eyes.
“S-s-sergei, f-f-finally. Hunter d-d-did say you’d come round but he d-d-didn’t say w-w-when.”
“Calm down, Litius. It’s no good you rattling off like a machine gun,” I sat up and run my hand over the woolen blanket. That’s where the disorienting smell was coming from.
I had to think logically. The last thing I remembered was us being in Purgator, on our way to Virhort. If the messages I’d received were to be believed, The Darkest One — Janus the Two-Faced God — was now dead. My team had survived, however. Despite his wounded pride, Hunter had still been alive when I’d passed out — albeit slightly worse for wear — and judging by what he’d apparently told Litius about me coming round, he was still alive and kicking. Which meant that we must have made it to Virhort.
Next. I couldn’t speak for all of us, but I knew that Arts had only one friend here, the alchemist. Seeing as she’d gone to see him when she’d been wounded, it stood to reason that she must have beelined for him now as well. Which meant that he’d taken us in.
“Are we at Tartr’s place?” I asked.
“How d’you know?” Litius asked, so surprised that he’d even stopped stuttering.
“You’re not the only walking Pentium around here. I use my head occasionally too. So this is his place, then. Excellent.”
We fell silent. I used the pause to look into myself and check out the goodies that Two-Face had left me.
Divine Avatar: Destroyer
Activation requires under 1000 pt. karma
Now why didn’t that surprise me? You can’t sit on two chairs at once: you either need a very big backside or very strong furniture. Which wasn’t exactly my case. Actually, hadn’t the system offered me a change of development branch?
I rummaged through my interface about as far as I could reach but came up with nothing. Of course. Hadn’t it said that I had 24 hours to change my decision? And I’d been lying flat on my back for a good three days.
Very well, then. We were still the Time Master.
Lability (Agility): the increase in the body’s natural maneuverability as well as the speed of stimulation cycles in nervous and muscular tissues.
It wasn’t clear yet whether this ability was active or passive. Visually, nothing had changed. And physically? I definitely felt worse than I’d done before I’d died. If this was the result of their so-called Lability, I’d rather have had it as it was.
Freeze (Modification). Slows your opponent down 10% of their original speed. Range: 60 ft. Cost: 40 pt. mana. Duration: 5 sec. Can’t be used more than once on the same target.
Bah. I was pretty sure Two-Face must have had much stronger spells in his arsenal. What I’d got was garbage.
Wait a sec. I’d just answered my own conundrum. All the other spells must have been way out of my league. At my current level, I simply couldn’t use them. So they cut the coat according to the cloth. Which meant I had to level up magic. Then next time I came across another suicide case like him, I might get myself a nice spell for my troubles.
I awoke from my reverie, noticing Litius’ mouth opening and closing. “Sorry man, I got side-tracked. Could you repeat that, please? Where’s everybody?”
“Arph is dead. Hunter killed him after Two-Face had taken control of his mind. At least that’s what Hunter told me.”
“I know that. I saw it myself. And where’re all the others?”
“I see. Arts is at the Community governor’s. Traug is with Vifeil, the commander of the Archali’s fifth legion.”
“It’s not really a good time to go socializing. Not when your comrade is teetering between life and death…”
Litius hesitated. “You don’t understand. They’re not socializing. They’re prisoners.”
“No way!” I jumped to my feet and immediately regretted it. Firstly, my muscles had apparently decided that seeing as I was officially dead, they were on strike. And secondly, the room wasn’t quite cut out to accommodate an average human, a bit like Korean minibuses. My head promptly hit the ceiling, forcing me back into a sitting position.
Tartr came running to check out the noise, followed by Bretta. The alchemist gave me a thorough check, a bit like a vet checks over a stray dog, nodding to himself all the while. He told me to stay seated and he’d be right back, then left again to delve deep into his lair. Bretta shuffled after him, bickering all the way.
In the meantime, I asked Litius to tell me what had happened.
It seems that th
e local chief had some kind of issue to settle with Arts. I immediately thought about the last time we’d been here when we’d been forced to escape two of their goons. And the worst thing was, Litius couldn’t make it clear what the exact problem was. It looked like Arts owed something to the local Community governor. Although according to her, he simply had the hots for her. It was all highly dubious. Very much so.
With Traug, it was just as bad. Apparently, in the brief time between our two visits, the Archali had indeed summoned some gryphons and ejected the Kabirids from the fortress. Now the town of Virhort — or rather, the Commoners’ part of it — was governed by one Vifeil, the commander of the Archali’s fifth legion. No idea what kind of guy he was. Not only had he had the cheek to enter the Community grounds with his men, but he’d also had the audacity to arrest Traug and escort him away. According to Litius, Traug was now imprisoned in the fort’s dungeon accused of smuggling Angels’ Ashes. Which was also something I’d never heard of until now.