by D. Rus
I signaled to my guards and the risen herd of zombie unicorns. "Follow me!"
The clan’s activity log always provided a levitation buff for large heights, so we smoothly flew down from the roof, unafraid. What really scared us was our own sociopath horses completely devoid of self-preservation instincts.
One of our guys couldn’t jump aside in time. His spine snapped under the heavy hooves. But then, individual losses didn’t matter much.
"To battle!" we cried as we charged, leaving behind our exhausted allies and ramming into the chitin armor of the eight-legged spiders.
The adamant gauntlet on my hand quivered impatiently, awaiting its initiation. It filled my head with vague images of how I would rip out the hearts of ninety-nine spiders and how priceless my blood would become. The adamant complained of depleted energy stores by evoking pictures of an empty vault the size of a planetoid. Don’t tell me I’ll have to put up with two greedy pigs now!
Everything went dark for a moment. A sharp sense of danger pulled back into reality and made me concentrate fully on the battle.
Swoosh! Crunch! Bang! A few hundred black arrows hit our swift group. The Drow archers sitting atop the temple walls have found a worthy target.
The first volley of arrows took down our passive shields. The second pounded on our armor.
I grinned. Go on, work your asses off! In addition to the arrow immunity acquired from divine blood, I also had unbelievable HP and regeneration stats. Paranoia is not always a bad thing.
Five blows was all it took to break the first spider’s jaw and chestplate. The adamant gauntlet forced me to shove my arm inside the spider’s slippery insides and rip its heart out.
A message popped up informing me that my "Flaying" skill just went up by one. The spider’s heart glowed with the power borrowed from its goddess. It continued pumping out blood from the severed arteries with a slurping sound. By contracting, the organ sent electric discharges up my arm, making it grow numb. But I didn’t get a chance to throw the dangerous item aside. My fingers clenched, taking up the organ’s life and turning it into a stream of energy.
I felt the artifact fighting its own greed and finally giving me a part of the incorporeal trophies. Power and life-giving mana filled my body as chaos wrapped around my mind.
Status alert! Great healing miracle.
Effect 1: all injuries are lifted, mana and health restored to 100%.
Random effect 1: +4 Strength.
Negative effect 1: a Spark of Chaos has lodged in your mind. Complete a purification ritual before the First Matter takes over your body. Victims left until personality disintegration: 98.
Fuck me! I needed to be more careful with such gifts. Although the Strength effect was handy…
The Drow were clearly impressed by how I took out a level 370 monster. They might have noticed the adamant too. This turned out badly for me: the hail of arrows sent my way really slowed me down. Plus, elves were excellent shots; they hit eyes, the small gaps between armor plate junctions at the joints, and spots with almost no armor at all. Moving became hard. Raising an arm meant getting five arrows stuck in your armpit. The damage was negligible, but the sensations were most unpleasant.
Moving by jerks and speeding up at times to evade the archers, I dove under the nearest corpse of a giant spider. I hardly enjoyed being an arrow trap.
A colorful cloud of enemy magic instantly covered the corpse as the wizards joined in the hunt for the leader of such an odd yet dangerous group. Perhaps death by arrows would have been better after all.
Crack! Hundreds of bony spikes protruded from the spider’s chitin abdomen. The crafty beast relaxed its legs and fell on me, intending to make mincemeat of me.
I managed to roll out from under it, speeding up time and injuring several tendons in the process. But not everyone accompanying me managed to do the same. The spider dropped, and the blood of my comrades spurted everywhere along with the green slush of smaller spiders.
Wiping the loathsome jumble off my cheek, I got up and ran to evade the archers. I escaped the enemy blanket spells, chopping up the delicate joints of any spiders I ran into on the way.
The adamant gauntlet helped me the best it could. Sensing that I was uncomfortable without any attack weapons, it quickly grew four blades, turning into a cult weapon from children’s nightmares.
Things got fun. I used it to slice chitin like parchment. Fuming bluish entrails littered the disfigured pavement. I swiftly moved forward, trying not to spend too much internal energy and hurrying to get to the Temple entrance, where the sounds of swordfights were already dying down.
The unicorns had fallen behind, taking on about fifty spiders. Their HP meters were quickly turning from a bright green to an alarming red. My personal guard disappeared in a wave of eight-legged monsters.
My snow leopard’s meow was cut short when he got crushed by a several-thousand-pound leg. The cub went into a 24-hour respawn, costing me a huge amount of XP. Minus a whole week of farming right there.
But where is a 330-level character supposed to farm? Invade Inferno all by himself? That place could destroy the entire alliance, not to mention the costs involved. Inferno was for loot, not for XP. Being there without dying at least once was like an unimaginable feat worthy of going down in history.
Taking all this into account, it would be fair to say that the maximum level of an average warrior in AlterWorld was roughly 250. This was the ceiling of strong clans provided they had convenient leveling-up conditions for their main warriors. Anything above 250 was acquired through cheating and would sooner or later self-adjust to stay at the golden mean. Deaths were inevitable, especially given the active positions that the NPCs have occupied in our reality.
Crunch! A three-foot-long claw whistled through the air before my eyes; it was growing out of the tip of a spider’s leg which itself was the size of a light pole.
I lost my balance, veered to the side, then fell and rolled down the pavement. Small spiders crunched under me. My blood stained the ground. The claw kept striking the pavement in an attempt to get me. It sent sparks flying.
There was a horrid stump in place of my left arm. Mourning my slow leopard and daydreaming had made me lose focus along with my sense of the pace of battle, resulting in an instant loss of a limb.
Four rings, a bracelet, and a minor forearm shield dropped into my inventory, significantly decreasing my stats. I was also dealing with a heavy injury now with profuse bleeding and lowered Agility.
I jumped up, groaning in pain as a hail of heavy black arrows pounded on my body. I spun around, dodging the gray claw flying at me, and struck it with my adamant blades. A hand for a hand.
The severed chitin claw was left sticking out of the pavement. I took off another one of the spider’s limb. Minus two!
Two swift spiders jumped on my shoulders and sunk their teeth into the chain mail, but I threw them off, then broke off the tips of the arrows sticking out of my abodmen. My HP was getting too low. It wouldn’t be long until I died.
Crack! I sliced off a fourth limb. Lloth’s creature fell on its side with a squeal.
My gauntlet twitched, demanding that I rip the heart out and reminding me of the great benefits of healing. I looked back; Asclepius was still on the roof, his body shining as he continued to cast his healing spell. Alas, it did not reach me. Our raid fought with confidence and seemed to have gotten a dozen paces further.
I had turned around just in time; a Drow assassin came out of stealth mode behind my back and sharply raised his sickles, preparing to take my other arm.
Panicking, I sped up so abruptly that the enemy rogue seemed still as a statue to me. This gave me time to make out five more figures forming a compact circle around me. Arrows crawled through the air, blades seemed bent in an odd way on their way down.
I bared my teeth. The bastards had me trapped! And I was so close. The shadow of the Temple’s main entrance was already covering me. A few dozen paces, and I would’ve
reached Ruata’s warriors. The spiral horn had fallen silent, but the blades were still clashing. I knew the Drow were still fighting. They had to be!
I swung my arm and rammed it into the closest stealther’s chest. Fragments of armor curled up like shavings, ribs snapped like straws, and the precious beads of the elf’s amulet sprinkled the pavement.
My gauntlet greedily pulled out his heart as I frowned in irritation. I wasn’t a big fan of this diet. But the healing wave was quite effective. My wounds closed, my blood dried up and my scars disappeared. The stump of my left arm turned back into an armored limb. It wasn’t fully functional at first; my mind still remembered the injury and hadn’t had time to adjust. The pale fingers twitched awkwardly as if after a stroke as I clenched my fist.
But there was no time for rehabilitation. Ultra-fast motion was an energy hog. It was dangerous for the frail astral body which simply wasn’t made to withstand such a strong flow of energy. The channels burned like cheap wiring under the pressure of a boiler.
I took five steps and made five slashes at the stealthers with my adamant blades. Realizing that they were sliced up, the enemies hurriedly came out of stealth mode to die in the normal space. Sorry about the adamant…
I simply had no time for duels and swordfights. My allies were getting slaughtered and the newborn world was getting turned inside out. We could all still be facing an eternity in Lloth’s torture chambers. With all due respect, stealthers, I have more important matters to attend to.
I was about to will my flow of time back to normal when the arch of the Temple’s main entrance flew to pieces. It was as if a tank had just burst right through the flimsy doors, sending stone debris into the air.
It was the Sun God’s Patriarch. He now was a spider from the waist down. Pushing aside the rocks suspended in the air and crushing the pavement with his legs, the eight-legged chitin monster came at me. So, the old geezer has a new mistress. This isn’t what I had in mind when I impaled him on Lloth’s blade. Apparently he switched sides, betrayed the Sun God, and became a mutant.
Royal mithril shone on his chitin armor. The Patriarch’s name was a bright purple. The goddess had clearly spared no resources to level him up to an outrageous status. Damn Spiderman!
The monster reared, twisting its front legs in the air, then gave a joyous laugh. The mutant was powerful as a nuclear reactor. And I…I had but a few drops of energy left and used them to maintain high speed. I had sucked my own energy channels completely dry, so I had to borrow strength from elsewhere. Following the Fallen One’s method, I stole some mana from the items in my inventory.
The vials on my quick access belt exploded. Spell parchments disintegrated into dust. My armor was acidifying; its leather straps turned stiff as boards.
Lloth’s Patriarch froze and raised two of his front limbs to the sky. He held a bone staff in one limb and an artifact manuscript in another. The latter was written in an archdemon’s blood on the skin of a seraphim.
Smiling, the priest growled triumphantly: "In the name of the Great Lloth!"
He waved his bony limbs. I felt kilotons of Lloth’s energy crashing down on me.
Status alert! Lloth wishes to turn your blood to acid. Accept the goddess’s will?
Status alert! Astral spiderweb! Lloth’s will is ready to tear soul ties and summon your frail body to her Halls. Accept?
Status alert! The goddess’s power is altering your saliva structure, turning it into Spider Venom. Effect: lifelong paralysis of the physical body. Your salivary glands will have to be removed in order for you to heal. Accept the goddess’s will?
I skimmed through the messages, shaking as I turned down the shady gifts and mentally bowing in prayer to my God Slayer status.
"Black Widow’s Curse." No thanks. "Firstborn Creature’s Pain." I’ll pass. "Change of Astral Pattern." Don’t need this one for sure!
I had to do something before Lloth started using the puzzled Patriarch as a direct weapon, because there was no way I could stop an asteroid.
I groaned and whimpered as I pushed myself to the limit, borrowing energy from my greedy pig’s suspiciously big stash, then raced forward. The old man had always been a so-so swordsman. Being under stress and having to control ten limbs at once rendered him unable to move. He got tangled in his own legs.
Raising my gauntlet over my head, I ran under the mutant’s purple belly, slicing through the armor that had been engineered in divine bioworkshops. I dodged the fetid entrails that fell out. Reeling, with nothing but willpower keeping me on my feet, I took ten more steps before falling back out into normal space-time.
I heard the sounds of battle again. Two unicorns which had miraculously broken through enemy lines gladly ran up to me. They were accompanied by a lone troll whose face was completely gone and who continued to fight by ear. The three guards covered me, buying their clan leader precious extra seconds of rehabilitation.
I opened my drained soul to the World, catching tiny drops of power. The effect was insignificant, like sprinkling dew on scorching desert sands. It would evaporate in the blink of an eye and never quench anyone’s thirst. So yeah…I would live, but I wouldn’t be performing any miracles. At least not right away.
I looked back, admiring the sight of the Patriarch tangled in his own guts. Streams of energy flowed from the sky, but even a goddess couldn’t heal an adamant wound. The spider wreathed in agony. His eyes full of hate grew dim, and the monster left for the Halls of his mistress. Two to nothing!
A cry of rage came from the sky. A divine portal opened next to us, throwing my guards aside, and Lloth herself honored me with a mighty smack on the face.
The goddess’s hand was heavy. I still got 90% less damage, but that didn’t decrease the impact. Her blow would have knocked down an elephant. I went flying. I smashed into the pile of the Temple gates’ remains. Warm blood streamed down my cheek. Even in her human form, Lloth’s sharp fingernails were made of adamant. My face would be scarred for life. If I survived, that is…
The goddess was so fast that I couldn’t even see her clearly. I only saw a blurred figure before I got punched in the liver. The goddess’s slender fingers went straight through the mithril armor. The plating rang like a bell as it broke apart. The rings of my chain mail went flying. Scraps of my doublet entered the wound, and that was really painful.
I only received 10% of damage like before, and blood loss was minimal. But the blows of the furious Spider goddess sent me flying again.
I knocked over some Drow warriors, broke the legs of several spiders, and injured my spine as I cannoned into a giant column by the Temple entrance. Spitting blood and teeth, I smiled crookedly: "Hey, Ruata! I’m glad you’re alive. I came as fast as I could…"
Boom! Boom! Boom! The muffled divine foosteps broke the silence that followed. The goddess looked slender yet weighed no less than a platinum statue. I would know, after dragging the Fallen One around.
The surviving unicorns neighed mournfully as they changed their priorities, ran over to where we were and attacked their master’s enemy. Their lack of the fear of death along with the burning desire to end their current existence made them suicidal enough to fight a goddess.
Frankly, it wasn’t much of a fight. The goddess merely glanced in their direction and willed them dead. Their souls slipped out of their bodies instantly.
The disheveled Ruata looked at her husband. The prince of the House of Night wore crumpled armor and had the face of Bruce Willis from the battle scene of an action movie: chiseled features, manly jaw, abrasions, and bruises.
After exchanging glances, the remaining Drow stepped forward, covering me from the charging Lloth.
"To the Altar!" the prince ordered.
Some brainless troll wearing a pink House of Night livery roughly grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and flung me inside the gloomy Temple.
This really wasn’t my day. My face smashed into cast-iron braziers, knocking them down. I left thick blood stains on the fl
oor as I furiously cussed at all those who enjoyed tossing living human beings around.
I fell before I reached the Altar. I was a big, heavy guy, and although the troll was strong, he was no catapult.
I heard Lloth quietly ordering everyone to drop their swords. Blades clinked as they hit the tiles. Very few could resist the will of a goddess.
"Die!" Lloth ordered all those who could, and I heard armored bodies hitting the floor.
I crawled forward on all fours. My body was too broken to obey me. My spine was crushed in several places and my torn liver burned like hell.
I heard Lloth’s heavy footsteps behind me. I wondered why she wasn’t in a hurry. Did she not understand what I intended to do? Or was she trying to provoke me, to get me to summon another god to make things even harder? She could not get the Altar under control without the Patriarch.
Just a few more feet. I threw myself forward, pain shooting through my spine as something hot flowed down my legs. I slammed my stiff palm on the slab, waved away the congratulatory greeting and began pressing the keys on the service interface insanely fast.
Inhouse project…Yes, summon!
The world shook, agonizing in the throes of a new birth. To pull a god out of nonexistence isn’t as easy as sprouting a new mountain range.
Several message windows obscured my view, and I could only listen to what was going on.
First came Lloth’s cry of surprise and rage: "Eilistraee?!"
Then a voice filled with hate: "Mom?!"
Chapter Eleven
Russian station Progess 2 in the Larsemann Hills antarctic oasis on the shore of Prydz Bay.
The assistant station-master gazed helplessly into the darkness outside. Even the powerful searchlights could not penetrate the snowstorm. The thermometer showed a freezing -88.6. It wasn’t the record -128.2, but given the wind speed, it meant certain death for anyone who had lost their way in the night. But would anyone travel the Antarctic?
These irrelevant thoughts prompted the assistant station-master to turn on the security system’s audio. The seismic monitor detected someone’s measured steps in the cacophony of violent noises. The dimension controllers gave an affirming signal and the thermovision cameras zoomed in on the approaching subjects.