Deadman's Retinue
Page 1
Deadman’s Retinue
a novel
by Pavel Kornev
An NPC’s Path
Book#3
Magic Dome Books
An NPC’s Path
Book # 3: Deadman’s Retinue
Copyright © Pavel Kornev 2019
Cover Art © Vladimir Manyukhin 2019
English translation copyright:
Irene and Neil P. Woodhead © 2019
Published by Magic Dome Books, 2019
ISBN: 978-80-7619-063-4
All Rights Reserved
This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any correlation with real people or events is coincidental.
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Table of Contents:
Part One
Deadman’s Retinue
Part Two
The Bone Dragon
Part One
Deadman’s Retinue
Time left: 29 days 23:59:59...
WHAT’S A LEVEL-99 PLAYER capable of doing?
Well, practically everything. For example, he could use the Scroll of Rebirth.
Unfortunately, the player in question wasn’t me but...
Barth Firefist
Paladin
Level 99
... but it was my sworn enemy.
Barth would have no trouble ripping all four of us to shreds, and the worst thing was, he knew it. Why wouldn’t he? Goar — who was the most advanced among us — was still a good 25% below him. And Neo was just a weak NPC not worth mentioning. So Barth wasn’t at all afraid of coming up against any decent resistance, apparently intending to trump everything with his very first blow.
With a resounding whoosh, a swirling vortex of flame formed around him, then shot up, licking the marble of the stairwell and spilling every which way as if it were alive, roaring and howling.
In an instant, my mithril mask became almost red-hot. I had to activate the Veil of Death. I felt a little better, but the defense spell was quickly depleting my energy stocks. I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer.
Goar had it even worse: the flames were licking his black armor, trying to find their way in and forcing the orc to retreat toward the bookshelves. To no avail: the fire had already consumed the entire ground floor of the library. Barth wasn’t playing for peanuts: he’d invested his all into the fight, not willing to leave us a single chance of survival.
Even Isabella — who was perfectly at home with the element of Fire — now appeared lost. Unable to counter the fiery spell, she put up a desperate defense. Barth, however, had no intention of just standing there like an idiot. Roaring with laughter, he swung his diabolical mace and threw himself at us.
Diabolical? Indeed it was! We were all like sinners consumed by hellfire.
I raised my flamberge, ready to counter the mace (bad, bad idea!) but Barth changed the direction of the blow at the last moment, selecting Isabella as his target. Caught off guard, the Elven priestess received an almighty whack from the fiery spiked steel ball which threw her against the wall.
You bastard!
The momentum of Barth’s attack had turned his back to me. I swung my flamberge with all my might, burying it into a gap between his armor and his helmet.
Powerful Blow! Accurate Blow!
The swing itself was a beauty but unfortunately, it didn’t book any result. The flames which licked his reddish-orange armor suddenly solidified, bearing the brunt of the blow. The freezing cold harbored within my sword proved stronger than hellfire itself, dispelling the infernal spell which disintegrated with the sound of breaking glass. My undulating blade glanced off Barth’s armor with a screech, unable to penetrate it.
Forgetting all about Isabella sprawled on the floor, Barth turned round in a graceful, almost dancing motion. Now it was my turn to dodge the terrible mace. The fire raging inside tried to impede my movement, forcing me into the weapon’s path. Still, I easily slid out of its singeing embrace, evading Barth's deadly weapon.
He laughed. “I can see you’ve been practicing!”
Even though he’d failed to get the Scroll of Rebirth, Barth seemed to be in an excellent mood. Why wouldn’t he be? His fiery blow had put us on the defensive, stripping us of the possibility of engaging this lone opponent in a merry-go-round of attacks from all sides in order to exhaust him and finish him off.
Now there was nothing we could offer against him.
Offer? We were simply burning alive! Dammit!
My skin under the red-hot mask began to sizzle. There was only one cold thing left in the whole world: my flamberge. Unfortunately, the ice trapped within it couldn’t counter the fierce onslaught of the element of Fire.
Run! We had to get out of here. Now!
The universal knowledge I’d received with the sword now offered me the path of the shortest retreat. I cast one last glance at the cornered Isabella, then stepped back.
And then...
Then it was all over. The furious light of the magic fire had faded. So had the unbearable heat of the Paladin’s righteous fury, replaced by a blissful, cool darkness.
“What the hell?” Barth cussed. “Are you messing with me?”
Triumphant crowing resounded from above. Tilting my head back, I saw Neo standing stock still on the stairs overhead, exuding waves of healing darkness. The lad was shaking and reeling from side to side as the pitch blackness that now lived within him escaped, extinguishing the sunrays seeping through the windows.
Barth followed my gaze. He bared his teeth in a hateful grin but didn’t get the chance to do much more. A furious roar echoed through the room, shaking the still-burning bookcases. A moment later, the smoke parted, releasing Goar’s black bulk. Normally, the power of Equilibrium would have helped him to either immobilize or slow his opponents down. This time, however, he used the other side of his skill, slowing down time itself. With the speed of a crossbow bolt and the power of a torpedo, the orc flashed through the room and clattered into Barth.
The two heavily armored warriors rolled toward the far wall, striking a flurry of sparks off the stone floor. Goar ended up on top and took full advantage of the situation. Not having the time to draw his sword, he simply smashed his armored fist against his opponent’ helmet, bending the visor.
Still, our enemy kept his wits abou
t him. He uttered a short spell which threw Goar off as if he were a ragdoll, sending the orc flying against a still-smoking bookcase which disintegrated on impact, Goar landing on top of all the debris.
Barth climbed to his feet and once again began swinging his mace. This time, however, the fiery storm couldn’t burn us alive anymore. Goar promptly recovered, jumped back to his feet and covered Isabella with his body.
“Die, you worm!” Barth growled as he swung his arm, launching an orange fireball at the orc.
Isabella held out her staff in front of her, deflecting the combat spell. The fireball hit and smashed a window in a cascade of glittering shards.
Emboldened by her success, the priestess lashed out at Barth with her ghostly whip. Still, the attack was thwarted by the orange armor and crumbled without doing any damage.
Stalemate.
I glanced at Neo. The boy was still busy blocking Barth’s fiery magic. His face was drawn and beaded with sweat, his white-knuckled fingers clenching the banister. The freshly-minted Commander of the Order of the Black Phoenix has reached the end of his tether and couldn’t help us any further.
Oh well. In that case, everything depended upon the strength of our weapons.
Barth took another swing with his mace. Goar blocked the blow with his pauldron. He staggered but stayed on his feet and even managed to strike back with his sword, penetrating the paladin’s armor with its black blade. Immediately I slid behind Barth’s back and struck his thigh.
The edge of my undulating blade sliced through the joint in Barth’s armor, dealing a bleeding wound. Barth cussed as he swung his terrible weapon again. Like a fiery comet, it struck me right on the head.
Ouch.
Damage taken: 688 [470/1440]
A moment before the impact, I had started to duck, so the mace only glanced off me, but it was still enough to send me sprawling onto my back. My game logs exploded with new messages reporting a new level gained as well as my current resistance to fire and magic.
My head swam. My eyes — or my only eye, rather — dimmed. Before I could recover my vision, I rolled to the side and stealthed up.
Unwilling to chase an invisible target, Barth switched back to the orc. Time and time again, his heavy mace flashed gracefully through the air while Goar struggled under its pressure, unable to counterattack.
Isabella wisely kept out of it, concentrating on blocking all the attack spells while pumping Goar’s magic shields with energy and casting an occasional blessing upon him.
Once again I slid behind Barth's back — but this time, Stealth failed to deceive him. The spiky ball crafted with an alloy of steel and fire met me full-on, forcing me to somersault aside.
My next attack, however, was slightly more successful, my next blow hitting Barth precisely where I aimed, the sturdiness of his armor the only thing that saved him from serious harm.
Burn in hell, you scumbag!
His wounded thigh didn’t seem to hinder him in the slightest. He'd long restored his depleted health using some healing spells. Goar, however, didn't boast such stamina. He started missing blows more often, losing his footing, his sword slow and cumbersome in his hand. Isabella’s support couldn’t really do much to tilt the battle in our favor; all she did was postpone the inevitable.
And Barth seemed to be indefatigable. He kept blocking our attacks with his sword, not letting us deal a precise blow to the joints of his armor — all this while methodically beating the crap out of Goar.
Suddenly Barth turned his attention from Goar. With a clever flourish, he hurled his mace at me. I was saved by my Leap. The fiery mace cannonballed past, only to be followed by yet another swing, forcing me to constantly duck and recoil in an attempt to put some distance between us.
Goar tried to counterattack. Barth noticed the danger just in time, parrying the blow with his magic shield which trapped Goar’s sword in its viscous embrace. The mace chain twirled itself around the orc’s sword, ripping it out of his hand. Isabella dashed forward and parried the next deadly blow with her staff.
Just as the two warriors gripped each other in a clinch, Barth hurled Isabella through the air.
We were toast.
We might actually still be able to get the hell out of here while we still had the chance.
Right at that moment, a figure appeared in the doorway, clad in a full suit of armor with pauldrons fashioned as lions’ heads with bared teeth. Its helmet was shaped as the head of a tiger.
Prince Julian.
He took a swing with his spear. There was no way I could dodge its leaf-shaped spearhead.
Talk about bad timing. As if he couldn’t have respawned some other time!
He hurled his spear with all his might, launching it through the room. I watched it sink into Barth’s orange armor, entering his body between his shoulder blades, its tip protruding out of his chest.
Unfortunately, the spell which was deadly for the undead had failed to deal the paladin much damage. He swung round.
“You!” Barth gasped.
Without saying a word, Julian drew a two-handed sword from behind his back and went straight on the attack. His recent defeat must have really pissed him off, seeing as he’d even forgotten all about me, impatient to get even with Barth.
Or was it because of Isabella?
With a clatter of steel, Barth the Paladin and Julian the Dark Knight were now locked in combat. I hurried toward Goar’s sword lying on the floor and kicked it toward the orc. Goar quickly perked up and grabbed it, then sprang to help Julian corner his opponent. He did so quite cautiously, though, and wasn’t in a hurry to stick his neck out, preferring to play a support role.
I wasn’t really looking forward to falling prey to a chance blow, either. Now and again I’d shorten the distance between us and jab at the joints in Barth's orange armor, then promptly stealth up, all the while keeping a watchful eye on Prince Julian. Trust him to give me a taste of his sword at the least opportune moment.
By now, Isabella had changed her tactics too, assaulting Barth with brief flashes of combat spells. Although most of them were absorbed by his resistance to magic, she did manage to deal occasional damage, forcing the paladin to jolt and make mistakes. Stripped of his divine magic, he gradually began to knuckle under. Compared to Prince Julian who was very experienced in hand-to-hand fighting, all Barth could do was cover himself, losing health which was now at 50%... 33%... 25%....
Come on! Just a bit more!
At this point, Barth transformed into a fiery flourish which exploded in an avalanche of new blows. Disengaging from Julian, he went for Goar and wrapped the chain of his mace around his neck.
“Die, you swine!” Barth roared, ripping Goar’s head off. As simple as that.
The orc’s beheaded body collapsed to the ground. Once again I recoiled, about to scamper away. Then I promptly changed my mind and stopped.
Shit! I only had a month to make level 99! Only a month! How could I miss the chance to earn a shedload of XP for killing the paladin?
Haste! Rapid Strikes!
My greed and desperation propelled me forward. I lunged at Barth, every bit as fast as he was. Faster even.
Barth parried my first blow with the shaft of his mace. My two subsequent blows found their target, but only the second one was a success as my flamberge’s undulating blade glanced off his knee-piece and slid into the joint of his armor, slicing through the flesh.
I drew back. Still, Barth wasn’t going to chase after me. His supernatural acceleration had already left him. His wounded leg buckled under him.
That’s when he went berserk. With a sharp swing, he hurled his mace at Neo, twirling it around him and jerking him off his feet.
The darkness dispelled. I sensed the return of the fiery heat.
The paladin laughed, wrapping himself in the scorching embrace of the fire aura. “That’s your lot!”
This time he didn’t bother to start a firestorm. Instead, he himself transformed into a tongue o
f blinding flame. Two fiery swords grew out of his hands. His very first blows burned effortlessly through Prince Julian’s blue armor, evaporating a curse hurled by Isabella. In a split second, the tables had been turned.
What a douchebag!
I almost choked on the wave of fury which flooded over me.
That’s when I heard an almighty crowing overhead. Scarecrow dropped onto the scene — but instead of descending onto Barth as I’d expected him to, he dove onto Prince Julian. The phoenix’s dead black shadow enveloped the knight’s armor and altered it ever so imperceptibly.