Keymaster

by Sergey Zaytsev

  “Hm... That’s true,” Mashta nodded, also realizing it. “Logically speaking, this is binding in a way... Even more universal than the Cradle, because you’ll carry her with yourself to any location...”

  “That’s it. And I swear that she’ll be the first in line for resurrection. But I don’t know how this works, or how it, if it even does, affects others. Therefore, for the sake of your own safety, leave us alone, and quickly. Her time is running out.”

  When they retreated, I thoughtfully looked around, wondering where to start. Alas, there were no instructions, but I had to do something, and immediately. Okay…

  Marana helped. She must’ve understood some of this, as she grabbed the hand with the socs and forcibly lowered it onto her chest, where the Mist hadn’t yet reached.

  Conditions have been met. Select a player from the List of the Dead.

  The List, unfolding before my eyes, notably worsened my mood. I didn’t suspect that so many had been killed in this battle — more than five dozen fighters went to the Mausoleum and were added to the List as well. I gathered their names just by participating in the battle. They had entrusted their fate to me and I owed them a lot. I won’t rest until all of the debts have been paid.

  [Grant] has been selected.

  Attention! The process is dangerous for the initiator’s mind and destructive for the donor!

  Activate the Vial of Soul Exchange Sacrifice: yes / no?

  Chapter 67

  Oh damn it!

  Something told me that I’d better sit down, so I hurriedly sank to the ground. And not a moment too soon. The faceted surface of the soc shone dimly, as if wrapped in mist. Marana’s grip immediately weakened, and her hand fell helplessly into the dust. The mist from the soc passed to her body, enveloped it — her flesh began to melt, while the soc grew.

  I vaguely recalled seeing something similar once. But where? And then I remembered: in the Destroyer’s Dungeon, in the Drider’s Hall — the trophy Owl got after the boss’ death, the magic sphere called the Hand of Fate. He used his Duplicator to bind a new weapon to his soul. And now, I observed a similar process, although a more complicated one, since this took place with living matter.

  And then came pain.

  It hit without any warning, scattering thoughts like a strong wind. Our nerves, hers and mine, joined in one indissoluble prickly tangle, and the pain gripped every cell of my body, devouring them. Her memory invaded my consciousness, overwhelming it with a powerful stream of foreign memories...

  Almost immediately, the Sign came to the rescue — it pierced my bicep down to the very bone. I didn’t even flinch — I couldn’t. My body was frozen, and time stood still. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stinger and Mashta’s silhouettes in the distance; they didn’t move or breathe. Even the dust, disturbed by the wind, interrupted its dance, as if the air had turned into glass...

  When the pain subsided and I was finally able to move again, there was no trace of Marana’s body. Instead of it was a crystal, seven feet tall and about three and a half feet long. It slowly rotated around its axis, hovering without any visible support, hovered in the air an inch or so from a pile of stones.

  Stinger and Mashta helped me up but held me, just in case. My body was obeying me poorly, as if every muscle was strained. For a few long seconds, I looked at my assistants through a haze covering my eyes, not understanding who these ugly creatures were that didn’t belong to my kind, and felt only one desire — to tear them to shreds for daring to touch me. Fortunately, I was too weak to take action, and after a while, those sensations faded. They weren’t mine.

  “Wise? Can you hear me? Wake up! What happened?! What the hell is this thing?! Where’s Grant? Weren’t you going to resurrect him?”

  Before answering, I looked at the List of the Dead, made sure that Marana’s name was there, and then automatically read the flashing lines.

  Achievement unlocked: Not for Glory

  One’s willingness to sacrifice themselves for the sake of friends is worthy of reward.

  Reward: +3.0 (5.25) saves

  The resurrection had cost me three saves, but the achievement returned them. That was it. As if it knew that it had been stingy lately, the system finally gave me a good reward. And although the name of the achievement fit the situation more or less, it didn’t fully reflect its essence. I wasn’t going to lie to myself — I liked Marana, especially after everything that we had gone through together, but I went for this not so much for her sake, as for the sake of the experiment itself. And she was well aware of it. This experiment was too important for the clan. It was somewhat harsh, but practical. What if this proves that the Vial is a dud, or something that I would never agree to once again?

  But I knew that I would agree.

  Alan’s intervention helped me come to my senses; the pain of his Sign became addictive and relieved of an even greater pain, leaving me conscious and allowing me to maintain control of the process. Otherwise, my mind could’ve shut off, sending me to the Cradle after Marana. The process of sacrificial resurrection was really dangerous for both participants. But with spare saves and Alan’s support, it was doable and somewhat safer. How many times did he help me without demanding anything in return? I wasn’t sure what the payback would be.

  “So what do we...?”

  A chime interrupted Stinger’s rumbling.

  Hundreds of cracks ran across the surface of the crystal, and I barely managed to turn away, hiding my face, as it exploded into thousand small fragments. Light as a feather, they touched my shoulder and back, falling under my feet.

  When I turned around, I found my bearded friend lying on the ground instead of Marana. Grant’s eyes were closed, and he was wearing a jacket and a pair of trousers made of rough gray fabric, full of holes and cuts, as were his knee high leather boots; around his waist was a wide belt with a short dagger and a metallic flask. He looked just as he did before his death. Exactly the same. Nearby lay a cloth bag in which Grant carried his personal belongings, and... A staff. His staff, with a steel shaft in the form of a stylized solar disk with nine rays.

  I didn’t expect that.

  The power of the Vial brought back his unique weapon that one could carry to the next location only by completing the Destroyer’s quest. But Grant never completed it. Nonetheless, his Uniq returned with him. That was crazy. This List of the Dead is a serious loophole, one with far-reaching consequences.

  What did I feel when I finally saw Grant alive? Nothing. Resurrecting him left me bone dry, with a gaping hole where my heart should be. In an hour or so, I’d feel everything at once.

  Tinnie landed on Grant’s chest, and ran across it, as if on a runway. Where has she been hiding all this time? Did she blackout, or what? She had probably been scattering her pollen about, holding back the Creepoars.

  She got stuck in his beard, and slapped his nose demandingly. She definitely remembered him. But the gesture remained unanswered. Grant didn’t move. That wasn’t surprising. It took him a while to recover the last time he had been mortally wounded. For the next few hours, even if he woke up, we couldn’t count on him.

  Feeling that everyone was looking at us, I looked up — the Kobi’s nosed faces peered out of the narrow windows on the second floor of the surviving tower, watching what was happening down below. They had probably climbed on each other’s shoulders, as their heads were sticking out every which way. I remembered that many of them were still waiting to be accepted into the clan, but that would have to wait a little longer.

  “I’ll be damned... Well, he’s cute...” Mashta stared at Grant with open curiosity. “Now what? He’s only level 9...”

  “Yeah, that blows... But in order to benefit from Grant, you’ll have to give him the recruiter’s position,” Stinger said. “Although, that doesn’t make much sense now, since the epic depends on your level. What will you do?”

  “I think we can force-level him without compromising my growth,” I replied. “However, we won’
t fight the Creepoars. At least, not here.”

  “What are you talking about?!” puzzled, Stinger looked at me. “Explain yourself,” he demanded with a frown.

  “We have less than four hours left until the Flame Phase. During this time, most of the wounded will recover most of their HP, but the cripples will still be crippled. Even if we collect all the fighters from both Fortresses, and even if the Dions join us in their full strength... Think, Sting — what we have just repelled with such incredible effort and catastrophic losses was just an unscheduled invasion, and we lost half of our fighters to it. This was just a single eruption of lava and ash from the mouth of a once dormant volcano. But when the volcano awakens truly, the picture will be completely different. And miracles will no longer happen. I’m sure that we can’t hold the Citadel. We won’t survive the Phase change.”

  “Maybe I don’t know you long enough, but...” Mashta said and shook her head. “If you had no ideas, you wouldn’t have started this conversation. Spit it out, what’s on your mind?”

  “The solution is obvious, although it won’t satisfy everyone. You’ll all go to the Cradle. Immediately. As soon as you get there, I’ll disable the Sphere and you’ll leave through the portal.”

  “Don’t rush it, Wise,” Stinger scratched the scab on his right cheek with fingers hardened from dirt, not noticing that he was re-opening the wound by doing so. “We know that you’re a clever lad, but wits alone ain’t enough. There’s a good chance that the location will be destroyed by a premature shutdown. It’s too dangerous to take such a risk.”

  What a strange situation we were in. We stood around a previously dead, but now alive once again, man lying among ruins, and discussed how not to die in the next few hours. But all I really wanted was to sleep for a hundred years or so. My stamina was nowhere near fine. This process had drained the last atom of my strength.

  “To hell with this place, Sting,” I grimaced. “I think Lunar Rainbow shouldn’t have survived to begin with.”

  “No, wait!” he resisted. “I talked to the Raksh elders while you were dealing with the Seals. They think that the world hasn’t changed behind the barrier; that life goes on as usual there and that Lunar Rainbow just fell out of time, and that the integrity of the world will be restored when the Sphere disappears. No matter how many Creepoars are sent into this world, we will eventually destroy them and seize the portal. After all, they respawn only during the Flame Phase. Without it, they’ll no longer have reinforcements. Other’s won’t stand aside idly, they will fight. We must defend the Citadel.”

  “But we can’t defend it, Sting,” I sighed. “And there are no other options.”

  “Hell, why?!”

  “Because there’s a belief that goes against what the elders have told you. According to Marana, the world behind the barrier is gone, and this piece of reality within the Sphere exists only as long as it does. This world is meant to be destroyed, one way or another. Therefore, it makes no sense to wait for the timer to reach zero. Because it will end disastrously for us.”

  “And what if Marana was still loyal to her former masters and intentionally tried to confuse you in order to push you to such a step?” Stinger still persisted.

  “I am against it, too,” Mashta supported him. “You can’t leave now! There’s more than twelve hours till Chula’s resurrection left! And if the world is destroyed, then she’ll never... What about the rest? Those who died now? And those twenty people? You yourself made Chzher start their resurrection process!”

  What’s going on with all of you...? Is your intelligence stat that low?

  “Tough luck,” I grinned, looking away. “I didn’t know the real situation then. And I can’t change that. It’s impossible to foresee everything. Those who died in this battle had better luck. All of them are now on my List. And I’ll get them out sooner or later. Chula’s also there, by the way.”

  “Where are you going to get that many saves?!” Mashta was indignant. “Aren’t you overestimating your own strength?”

  “Tinnie and I are both still improving our abilities,” I said and shrugged stolidly. “We’ll come up with something…”

  “Wise, if we’re near the portal when the Sphere disappears... Won’t the Creepoars surround us?” Stinger voiced the thought that many had on their minds. “Then what?”

  “Good question. Well... Then, at least, you’ll already be near the portal, and some will have time to escape. That’s better than making your way to the portal through a horde.”

  “And what will you do?!” Mashta stared at me with sincere confusion.

  The sound of heavy steps made me look back. Chzher and Initox were approaching us. They stopped a couple of steps further away. Both of their armors were broken and pierced in many places, and each dent had been paid in blood. Our giants took the brunt of the onslaught, forming the core of our resistance, and for an hour and a half, they repelled the Protector’s attacks. I became alert, not understanding why they had come in person instead of passing on the news through any of my clan members, and going to get their well-deserved rest.

  “The Dions sent a messenger,” Chzher said in a hoarse voice.

  “Do they want to negotiate?”

  “No, Wisecracker,” Initox shook his massive head, for the first time using my nick. “They just passed their message. And you won’t like it.”

  Chapter 68

  “Wise? We’re on the spot. Do you hear me?”

  “I do. Wait.”

  A chat message interrupted my meditation.

  Our last pause was over, and fate was again dealing cards at random.

  The old bed creaked, threatening to fall apart. Putting Silent Girlfriend aside on the bedside stool and dispersing thick puffs of smoke that were floating in front of my face, I sprang to my feet and began to dress up. Boots, thick quilted jacket, pants, and a fur cloak. Everything was new, presented by the Kobi craftsmen. I dressed myself without haste, tightening the lacing on my chest and sleeves, buttoning my belt and checking my ammunition. I didn’t want to forget anything, because I wouldn’t be returning here anymore.

  I really hoped that I wouldn’t.

  Once upon a time, Phoenix Shriek himself slept on this bed, and now it helped me absorb the stat points in maximum comfort. As much as one could in this location, of course. More than an hour, while the people flocked to the portal from all three Fortresses — Madogost, Belistva and Kandauri — was used for resting. They all came — the Kobi the Rakshasa, the Dions; their women and young, too. None of the outcasts had ever seen them, as they all lived in well-guarded caves located beneath the Fortresses, in the mountain ranges. Families. Just like in ordinary life. This world wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Now I knew that not only the elite Dion warriors took part in that death charge to clear the serpentine from Demons. Yes, the most experienced ones lead the attack, naturally, but half of the horsemen turned out to be youngsters, clad in adult armor. Extreme circumstances demanded extreme measures.

  “We’ve established an all-round defense,” Stinger continued the report. “All the tanks stand in the outer row, the damage dealers are behind them. Women and kids have been placed closer to the portal and will leave first if things go wrong. If not, the first to go will be a mixed combat raid. No one knows what awaits us on the other side. I wouldn’t like to jump from the fire and into the frying pan, but I hope we’ll, in case something happens, manage to entrench there and hold position until the rest move in. The Dalrokts will lead; they can match anyone’s might. Five Okhtans, five Raksh and five Dions. I, too, will join them; can’t stay away.

  His voice sounded rather gloomy — we hadn’t come to a unanimous opinion, and he was still against the Sphere’s premature shutdown. As was Mashta. And many others. I even had to hold a general vote. The Dions still didn’t want to communicate with me directly, as I was the “representative of a Dark Deity,” but after an offer I sent via Lail, they deigned to explain themselves through the Dalrokts. They confirmed M
arana’s version of the story: the world outside the Sphere was gone. They only needed to capture the Citadel for one reason — to prevent the outsiders from reaching to the Control Center and save the Sphere from being disabled. But since the Seal repair process was already running and it was no longer possible to prevent the shutdown, they were forced to go to another world with everyone else. So the Dions were no longer going to defend the Citadel, which was doomed without their support. But they agreed to fight near the portal, to death if needed.

  Curiously enough, the Raksh stubbornly refused to believe in such an outcome, and called the ungulates liars with angry indignation. The result of their long-standing hostility was deep-rooted mistrust. I had to convince the feline folk to give the horsemen a chance. My Charisma, logic, and reputation helped a lot. I assured them that if after the removal of the Sphere everything was quiet, they would be able to return back to their homes, as if nothing had happened. But if the worst scenario comes true, then it’d be better for everyone to be near the portal at that moment. The Raksh agreed, although not without grumbling. The Kobi, being exceptionally peaceful, one might say civil, joined the majority’s decision, and the outcasts... To the outcasts, the fate of this world was of little concern. Their main goal was to escape this cold and hopeless kingdom of snow and ice.

  I didn’t allow anyone to stay with me, although Rawrk almost got into a fight because of this — he didn’t want to leave without me. Such a devoted creature he was. I didn’t understand why I deserved such treatment. But alas, even the fastest Raksh couldn’t keep up with Fury, so I had to refuse his services. In addition, Rawrk was still crippled; the severed limb regenerated extremely slowly, and he would lag behind, inevitably turning from a helper into a burden. And speed was of utmost importance now.