Shadows of the Great Forest (Realm of Arkon, Book 4)
Page 26
"Just stand there and bear the pain! In the name of all the Seven Lords, bear the pain and don't show it!"
Heeding Guar Khan's command, his officers surrounded Max in a circle, looked up to the ceiling, and spread their arms to the sides.
Are they going to sing me the birthday song? The playful thought popped into his head, making him smile despite the somber ambiance of the ritual. Actually, to him it looked more comical than somber, what with those spooky horned heads on the walls, torches burning in the corners, and creepy shadows on the floor. And most comical of all were the ugly bastards surrounding him, looking like deformed rejects from some dating site about to do a round dance. Oh, and he was about to die, too! That last thought nearly made him guffaw, which would totally ruin the solemnity of the moment. While he entertained himself with those thoughts, two crimson threads shot out from the legate's hands, striking him in the chest and penetrating his body. The sensation of pain was manageable at first, but quickly began to worsen. And just as the pain started becoming unbearable, Max clenched in his fist the seed once gifted to him by the dryad Aeoli.
Was it cheating? You bet, but Max didn't give a damn! If it would prevent the legion of dead demons from ravaging the Great Forest, he would cheat every day of the week and twice on Sunday. Besides, he never was into masochism... The pain subsided at once, along with the burning heat, as if doused with a glass of cold lemonade.
Your Toughness skill has increased to 19%.
"Is it cool to talk now?" he asked the legate standing across from him, purely for shits and giggles. The gamut of emotions that the question invoked on the demon's face was hard to describe.
Your Toughness skill has increased to 20%.
"What do you want to talk about?" the other asked softly, trying to quell the hope in his voice.
"What's the Netherworld like? I was thinking about making it a weekend getaway."
Your Toughness skill has increased to 21%.
"The Netherworld is as beautiful as a young succubus," the demon's voice was filled with such profound longing that Max felt a little nonplussed.
Your Toughness skill has increased to 22%.
"Hold on, elf... Just a little longer... Hold on in the name of the Seven!"
An enormous portal window materialized with a clap ten feet away to Max's right. He had done it! All that was left now was to die.
Your Toughness skill has increased to 23%.
"Still think I'm a worm?" He raised his brow at the legate who was suddenly looking rather grim.
"No, you are a warrior... A great warrior!" Taking a step forward, the general pressed a ring into Max's hand. "This will help you make it out of the Gray Frontier. And I have absolutely no doubt that you will make it out."
Your Toughness skill has increased to 24%.
The general and his officers unsheathed their weapons in unison and threw them up in a farewell soldier's salute, letting loose a triumphant war cry.
And then there was darkness...
Chapter 14
Attention! Your character's death has resulted in the loss of 20% of your levels. Your current level is 125.
Attention! Your character's death has resulted in the loss of 93 stat points. Your current stats are distributed as follows: Agility—100, Strength—204, Constitution—204, Intellect—20, Spirit—20, Vigor—150.
A piece of the blood-red moon was peeking out from behind a huge boulder just past the bindstone. The forest at night surrounding the gorge looked just as before, with dense rows of trees groaning in the wind... Or were they laughing at him? It was, after all, chilly and not quite comfortable to lounge on the naked earth in nothing but boots, shirt and trousers.
Well, time to pick up the pieces, Max grunted as he rose to his feet. There'll be time to mourn my levels later, when... But before he could finish his thought, the system log literally blew up with messages.
You've completed the quest: The Great Sacrifice.
You have gained a level! Current level: 126.
You have 3 stat points to allocate.
You have gained a level! Current level: 127.
You have 6 stat points to allocate.
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You have gained a level! Current level: 156.
You have 93 stat points to allocate.
You have gained a level! Current level: 157.
You have 1 talent point to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to constitution, +1 to strength.
You have 96 stat points to allocate.
You received: General Khan's Wrath.
……………………………………………………………………………………….
You have gained a level!
You have gained a level!
………………………………………………………………………………………..
You have gained a level! Current level: 167.
You have 11 talent points to allocate.
Class bonus: +1 to constitution, +1 to strength.
You have 126 stat points to allocate.
Attention! You've earned a unique achievement, First in the Last Refuge of Maloc's First Legion. You and your allies have been granted a permanent 6% increase to your physical and magic damage.
You have earned a new title, Warrior of the Great Forest.
You have sacrificed your own life to expel from the Great Forest a legion of the Netherworld's demons that were a threat to all living beings. You and the warriors under your command receive:
10% increase to physical and magic damage,
10% increase to the effectiveness of healing spells,
10% to armor class and all resistances,
3% to hit critically with a physical or magic attack, or healing spell,
20% to critical hit damage with a physical or magic attack,
20% to effectiveness of critical healing.
Attention! This achievement cancels the bonuses received from the Protector of the Great Forest achievement.
Attention! You have garnered the attention of a higher being. Morrigan, the Goddess of Stealth and Military Cunning, is friendly to you.
You've learned a unique skill: Morrigan's Gift. When using invisibility, neither you nor any party members under your command will be detected by high-level enemies.
Note: certain sentients and creatures in the Realm of Arkon possess special abilities enabling them to detect camouflaged foes.
You have earned a new title, Knight of the Order of the Two-Faced Goddess.
You and your allies are granted a 7% increase to your physical and magic damage output, 3% increase to armor class and all resistances, and 7% increase to the effectiveness of healing spells. Experienced gained by you and your allies is increased by 7%. If a party has several members ordained into the Order of the Two-Faced Goddess, their bonuses do stack, but no more than 40% per party.
Your reputation has increased. Dark elves relate to you with reverence.
Your reputation has increased. Light elves relate to you with respect.
Your reputation has increased. Sentient creatures of the Netherworld plane are now unfriendly to you.
Your reputation has increased! Sentient creatures of the Desolation Valleys Dominion relate to you with respect.
Attention! You have garnered the attention of a higher being. Maloc, the Elder Demon of Ruin, is friendly to you.
You've learned a unique skill: Maloc's Rage. Every blow you deal within three seconds of the previous one deals 5% more damage. Cannot exceed 100% per target.
Your reputation has increased. Guar Khan, the General of Maloc's First Legion, relates to you with respect.
Max just stood there, mouth agape, flabbergasted and overwhelmed by the torrent of system messages. There were no words—he was literally unable to speak for several minutes. What an incredible windfall, and all because of a tiny seed gifted by Aeoli! If I se
e that dryad again, I will shower her with kisses. Or I'll plant a grove on that island, if that is her preference. He didn't believe in coincidences. No, the dryad must have known about the challenge that would await him. And now he could lead his party through the demon blockade without any fear of attack now that his reputation had risen to unfriendly. But why? What was inside Darkaan besides Kirana's temple? Something to do with that damned prophecy Roman had pulled him into?
Calm down! Think straight! More reason, less emotions! He admonished himself, then sat down on the ground and dropped his face into his palms. Something pricked his cheek. "Damn!" he swore, looking at the black-as-coal ring lying in his palm—the one Guar Khan had given him before his death. Why did it remain with him instead of on his corpse? The general had said something about the ring helping him make it out of the Gray Frontier—perhaps that was the reason? He shrugged, and set to examining the gift.
General Khan's Wrath.
Accessory; ring. Bind on equip.
Durability: 4637/5000.
Epic scalable.
No minimum level.
+334 to strength.
+8.35% to maximum resistance to fire.
+3.34% to critical hit chance with a physical attack.
Weight: .04 lbs.
Forged by the Great Master Heegan in the bowels of Woren Mountain.
With a sigh, Max slid the ring on, then leaned against the bindstone and gazed up at the stars hanging over the forest. What kind of world are you that in a matter of months I've come to have more than I ever dared dream of? Wonderful friends, a woman I love, the favor of divine beings... Could I really be so lucky? Or will there be a price to pay for all this...
Somewhere up above, someone of considerable power had staked everything on him—he felt this now with every fiber of his being. On him and on Roman both. And those betting on them must not lose. He shuddered to imagine what their loss might mean for this realm. And that meant... It means nothing! He cut short his ruminations. Enough standing around sulking—time to go recover my stuff.
With a final glance at the moon edging over the boulder, Max shifted into cat form and dashed into the now-free gorge for his equipment.
He was coming to really enjoy his true form. Max had once read that a cat's eyes were six times more sensitive than a human's, and capable of collecting light from the faintest sources. In total darkness a cat was just as blind as a person, but even a negligible bit of luminescence was enough to move about with confidence. So it was now, with the moon still eclipsed by the eastern slope, the scant starlight was perfectly sufficient for Max as he moved deeper into the gorge. And there was plenty to see around him, with large swaths of the forest cut out and a myriad defensive structures erected instead, ostensibly by the legionnaires to fortify their last line of defense. In another defensive tactic the legion had dug fifteen-foot-long trenches at intervals no greater than fifty yards, with sharp spikes jutting out of the earth. Running along the edges of the trenches were strange contraptions resembling Czech hedgehogs, bound with steel chains. And so it went for almost a full mile into the mountain—no cavalry would traverse the gorge without the horses growing wings. Max recalled the legate's words about the thousands of Kirana's boar-riding knights who had tried but failed to break the Netherworld's Legion's defenses.
For the gray lion, neither the trenches nor the spiked metal strewn all around were an issue, as he could easily spot and either skirt around or leap over any danger. But he couldn't help but wonder, given that the instance was designed for a raid of three hundred, how such a large crowd was supposed to bypass all these traps and defenses? Or had the demons erected them after the patch had bolstered their intelligence? Oh well, that didn't matter anymore. The demons were gone, and he was here alone. Sure, he could take some time to scour the place for something useful, but he doubted the demons would leave anything truly valuable behind, and he didn't feel especially disposed to collecting steel spikes or tearing chains from fortifications. Steel wasn't mithril, and he wasn't going to go out of his way to gather it. He could always come back here with the rest of his squad for some scavenging, but for now his goal remained unchanged—get his equipment and get out.
Once past the fortifications, Max found himself at the legion's palisaded camp. It made for a fascinating sight, full of strange clay-reinforced stone structures that had clearly housed a non-humanoid race—the steel-plated cots alone were large enough to fit a full-grown elephant. Towering throughout the camp were eerie stone sculptures at least twelve feet in height with heads that resembled statues from Easter Island. There were also deep ditches, roughly fifty by fifteen yards, their bottoms lined with gravel. The only buildings that looked familiar—and comforting at that—were the barracks, of which there were about ten. Max peeked inside one as he moved through the camp, counting close to two hundred cots. The wind made a nasty whistling sound as it blew into the gaping windows of the deserted building, and the warrior decided to forgo his inspection. It could wait for when he'd return here with his companions. And in the light of day, ideally, since the place could still be rigged with traps of every variety.
It wasn't until the very end of the camp, near a wide crevasse leading into the mountain, that he found bones. Lots and lots of bones. The demons had devoured Python whole. The monster's ten-foot-tall skull was lying at the entrance to the cavern, empty eye-sockets staring skyward, and rows of huge yellowed teeth jutting out menacingly. The shattered fragments of its spine and other bones were scattered in the radius of some fifty yards. Shifting into elf form, Max walked over and gave the skull a few hard kicks with his boot, dislodging a dozen teeth to keep as souvenirs. He may not have been the one to kill the vile beast, but it was he who had brought about its death. "Enjoy lying here for all eternity, bastard," the warrior whispered softly. "You won't be feasting on any foxes anymore." Giving the skull one final kick for good measure, he shifted back into a cat, and proceeded carefully into the mountain.
After passing four cave chambers, their ceilings rich with stalactites that dazzled in the firelight of torches wedged into the walls, he was finally at his destination.
The hall in which he had met his death hadn't changed, except for the altar that was now gone—it must have been very valuable indeed if Guar Khan had decided to take it with them. The torches set along the perimeter illuminated the demonic faces chiseled in the walls. Max hadn't paid much attention to them the last time around, whether out of fear or excess adrenaline, but now... He could swear the demons were messing with him: winking mischievously, sticking out their tongues, making wacky faces and generally clowning around. It made for at once a droll and eerie sight.
The warrior approached his corpse, shifted into elf form, picked up his gear and equipped it without wasting time. It felt good to be wearing his armor again. Overcome with confidence, he flipped the bird to one especially ghastly mug on the wall, produced his flask and took five big swigs. The cognac spread a pleasant warmth through his body. Feeling fully content and ready to perform new feats of heroism, Max began to reach into his inventory for his pipe and a tinderbox when something gave him a start.
She was sitting on one of the benches, her legs crossed, her black fox's tail wrapped around her torso, hands folded over her chest as she started contemplatively into nothing in particular. The same green jacket, the same lean legs in form-fitting hunting pants—no, she hadn't changed at all since their last encounter in Ellorian. Except he wasn't looking at a teary-eyed girl anymore, but at a composed young woman of exceptional beauty.
Stashing his pipe away, Max put his balled fist to his heart, and bowed his head in a greeting.
"Greetings, Lady Sata," he spoke softly. His voice echoed flatly through the hall, and all movement around him came to a halt. Suddenly still was the blue flame of magic torches around the perimeter, as were the demonic faces on the walls. A mellow silence enveloped the hall.
Turning her head toward him slowly, the goddess gave a faint nod, indic
ating a spot next to her. Max approached carefully, but before taking a seat he produced the fox's tail recovered after Python's demise, and offered it to the young woman. Sata gave a start, as if seeing a ghost, then accepted the offering gingerly with both hands, leaned back against the wall and shut her eyes.
Unsure of what to do or say next, Max took a seat next to her, folding his hands on his knees, and proceeded to examine the cracks in the stone slabs underfoot.
"So that's how the monster tracked my people's settlements," the goddess whispered softly, gazing at the tail clenched in her hands. "Derek... He loved me and he trusted me... And he took the first blow upon himself when Hallot attacked. I made the Beast pay dearly, but Derek was beyond saving. The Dark God took a piece of my soul that day, and embodied it into a curse that would haunt my people for many centuries. If I only knew..." The young woman drew a heavy sigh and spread her arms, the tail in her hands scintillating as it vanished into thin air. "I haven't been with anyone since... Until very recently."
Despite the scant lighting in the hall, Max noticed the goddess' cheeks flush red. What a night of revelations, he thought with wonder while also feeling a little uncomfortable, as though he had just learned something he wasn't meant to know. But her next question bewildered him altogether.
"Are you mad at me, warrior?" she asked without looking into his eyes.
"No, I'm not mad," he said, somewhat dumbfounded. "Why would I be?"
"Only seven settlements of my people remain in the Wild Wood," she said with sorrow. "I have chosen you all the way back in the Sunlit Forest, when you and your friend helped his woman. And when you helped the beggar girl in that Ellorian tavern, I knew I had chosen well. I couldn't catch Python myself—the curse prevented my people from moving and seeking the Nightcrawlers' protection. Hunting or setting a trap for the Beast was useless... I needed a warrior. You had almost no chance against him despite my investing as much as I could into you. The foxes were destined for extinction, but I had to do something. I had to try! And so I found myself ear-deep in this prophecy."