The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series

by Roman Prokofiev

  * * *

  It was a day of running around. A time to gather stones, so to speak. After using a Soul Stone to travel to Eyre, I went to the Upper Quarters to visit my favorite auction and hand over the quest about saving the Err.

  The market wasn’t doing so well. Eyre wasn’t the biggest trading hub of the continent, to begin with, and after the faction war had started, the teleports connecting it to other cities had been shut down. Trade had slowed down, the High Road had been blocked, and sales were down.

  Generally, I didn’t care much about the failing market. I had long since focused my efforts at Eyre auction on buying all available faction tags — the tokens dropped by NPCs of enemy factions. Representatives hired by me were busy bidding for these lots, and the money I had earned allowed me to set the prices. I was satisfied with what I saw. Most of the tokens belong to me, and there was almost no competition. The early bird got the worm.

  While I was checking the lots, mail chimed in. The Soulbinding Stone reached the auction houses. The admins were prompt: only a few hours had passed. I took it and spent a few minutes examining the blue-green gem. It was beautifully cut, and in its depths, I could almost see glowing flames that made the gem shimmer.

  My next step was the palace. The Err’s castle, partially destroyed upon the visit of Tao and his friend from the Netherworld, was actively repaired. Woods and towers were surrounded with scaffolding with repairmen all over them, while huge drawing machines delivered stones and brick mortar. Surprisingly, the characters busy with construction included some players. Yeah, it made sense — quests, social stuff, creation... I knew that, according to Sphere’s statistics, only ten percent of players were actively involved in PvP. Most people preferred carebear playstyle: farming dungeons, treasure hunting, exploring the world, crafting. The game had many sides, and you could be anything you wanted... Still, as Kipling wrote all those years back,

  Gold is for the mistress — silver for the maid —

  Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.

  “Good!” said the Baron, sitting in his hall,

  “But Iron — Cold Iron — is master of them all.”

  It was that ten percent of hardcore PvPers who knew cold iron best. It was they who divided and controlled the Wild Lands with their resources and rare dungeons. It was they who backed the market and provided safe logistics. It was a world of military-style clans — and I had to carve my own place there.

  The young Err received me immediately.

  Thanks to Alex, who had already handed over the quest — he had returned to Eyre way earlier — I had already known the reward. An epic faction quest was a rare beast, and usually, NPCs spared no expenses. I was given a generous helping of reputation, increasing it from Friendly to Revered, skipping over Respect. Faction rep was a great gain, as earning it was a chore: hundreds of quests, thousands of hours invested. It unlocked special vendors, quests, and items, which was greatly appreciated by players.

  I won’t even bother you with the details about other bonuses, such as fifty thousand XP and three attribute points.

  On top of that, I was given the Friend of the Nation title and a pendant that confirmed this status. It was a round, gold medallion with the image of a barley ear surrounded by seeds, like a paiza of Eyre. Similar tokens were dropped by rank 4 NPCs. Faction items were between rare and epic, in Sphere terms, and could only be obtained as a reward. They had four properties: a bonus to Eyre reputation, giving access to new NPCs and quests, a bonus to Charisma and Luck, and permission to talk to faction leaders once per day without a report. The pendant filled the amulet slot.

  On the way back, I visited my friend Weldy, the girl from the magic shop. I thought she’d get offended if I passed by without seeing her. We had a great time exchanging the news. I was so used to NPCs behaving just like real humans that I talked to her like to an old friend without ever remembering that she was an AI that had passed Turing’s test. It felt great.

  When I remembered that she was an alchemist and a herbalist, I showed her the recipe I had received in the Order and asked her opinion about the Tincture of Fire.

  “Six components, second stage,” Weldy wrinkled her small turned-up nose. “The brewing process is very simple...Vitriol, water essence — I have them, ash rose is sold on the market... Pholiota grows in every swamp. Salamander saliva? Never heard about it. Golden lotus doesn’t sound local, either.”

  “If you bring me salamander saliva and golden lotus, I could brew this elixir for you. That said, why would you want it, Sir Cat? If you want fire protection, you’d rather use common Fire Resistance Potion, it’s cheaper and more effective.”

  The Tincture of Fire, just like the entire line of the Order’s potions, increased resistances to various damage types and bestowed an additional effect. Still, according to Weldy, that potion was trash expensive and less effective than specialized elixirs. Anyway, I didn’t care about the elixir’s quality, so I asked the girl to brew a sample batch — a hundred bottles — while keeping it secret.

  “A hundred? Are you in the right mind, Sir Cat?” the girl was surprised. “Why’d you need that much?”

  She took a piece of paper and quickly made some calculations.

  “I’ll need a couple of days,” she warned. “And...forgive me for saying it, but I would really like half of the payment upfront. Money’s running low lately, and I’ll have to order bottles from a glassblower...”

  That was no problem. I paid for everything straight away — the amount was less than a hundred gold — and promised to send the missing ingredients as soon as possible. The auction had everything, if not there, then in the Fairs. At last, I made one small step forward in my game.

  In the meantime, my private messages were full of Watchers. First, Komtur wrote to me, then Abel. They wanted to talk. I set up a meeting in half an hour at my inn.

  * * *

  Finally, I was home. The saga of rescuing the Err was over, and the secret of the sword was revealed. Now, I was stuck in a different, pretty ugly mess. My humble suite in Karn’s inn seemed like a safe haven, and I found myself thinking that it felt like home. I was used to the slanted roofs of the attic room, a carefully done bed, the withered flowers on the table. I put Tao’s things into the chest and shut the half-round lid.

  After placing the sheath on my knees, I slowly pulled out the blade. The star metal, blue like a summer sky, gleamed with a multitude of silver sparks that seemed to float from the deep. It was a gorgeous weapon and a dangerous one. Many dreamed about it, their eyes hungry for the prize. Still, I couldn’t help but feel that finding the sword was no coincidence, no stroke of luck.

  Fine. I produced the Soulbinding Stone that looked like a green diamond and inserted it into the empty socket on the sword.

  Attention! This action is irreversible! Are you sure you want to do it? Yes/No

  Yes, anybody could insert a magic gem, but removing it required a master weaponsmith — and even then, it ran a high chance of destroying the stone. Still, endowing an item with the properties of the gem was priceless.

  Soulbinding Stone Honestly, it was a cheat. It granted a 30% chance to resurrect after receiving a fatal blow. After, get it? It wasn’t even an auto-heal like Tao’s ring that could pull you out from zero hit points. Soulbinding was triggered after the finishing blow when the enemy was completely sure that you were sent to the resp point. The resurrection, going by the description, only restored ten percent of your hit points, but even that could be enough to turn the tide of the battle.

  I inserted the stone, and the blue-green gem the size of a quail’s egg glowed in the pommel slot. I opened the sword’s stats to view the new affix.

  Aelmaris the Blue

  Flaming Sword of Seven Brothers

  Quality: key.

  Material: star metal, mithril, true fire.

  Sentient item. Scalable. Personal. Undetectable. Soul Eater.

  XP: 14456/100000 Souls eaten: 18

  Damage
: 30–50 (piercing, slashing)

  One of the Seven: +10 to all attributes of the owner

  True Flame: +3500 true fire damage (rank 1)

  Soul Eater: consumes and holds the soul of a defeated creature.

  Destroyer: destroys durability of enemies’ items.

  Star Metal Wrath: reveals true form of all creatures in a 10 m radius.

  Fiery Lightning: bestows Fiery Lightning ability to the owner, 12 charges per day.

  PICK A LEGACY

  HIDDEN LEGACY (requires more experience)

  HIDDEN LEGACY (requires more experience)

  Slots: 2 (Soulbinding Stone) (empty)

  True owner: HotCat, ID G58620789

  Well, well, well. I had completely forgotten to level up my sword! I could pick a new legacy — apparently, that was something akin to a property. Let’s see.

  Yep. I could either increase the rank of an affix I already had or choose a new one. I had two options:

  Dancing Sword: the sword can act on its own, destroying the nearby enemies. 30 seconds/day

  Blazing Warrior: the wearer’s flesh transforms into true fire, making them invulnerable. 1 min/day.

  I’ll be damned! Now I had to choose between good and great. I needed to hold my horses and consider the question.

  * * *

  While waiting for Abel, I went down into the hall. I had to have lunch, or rather dinner.

  The mug of beer that cheerful Kirana added to the meat stew seemed like divine nectar. How could it be that a bunch of neurons, instead of real alcohol, could make one intoxicated like a fool?

  “Sir Cat, there are rumors going on about you!” the innkeeper’s daughter bent to me and started whispering in my ear, like a conspirator. “After the young Err returned... They say you all but saved the city!”

  “Nonsense,” I dismissed her. “That’s just gossip.”

  “Gossip or not, you are a Friend of the Nation!” Kirana laughed, her curls tickling my neck. Suddenly, she gave me a loud peck on the cheek and continued, “In any case, Father and I decided to let you live here for free. It’s such an honor for us!”

  Yes, after getting rewarded in the castle and gaining the amulet, I would become a big man there. The NPCs’ attitude had clearly changed for the better. With my faction rep with Eyre at Revered and the title of a Friend, I wondered if I would be recognized on the streets.

  “I’d rather you tell me if your chests are locked secure enough,” I asked the innkeeper’s daughter. “Can anything be stolen from a room?”

  “Who do you think we are, Sir Cat?” The girl frowned. “We are a decent establishment! We never had a single theft!”

  “What did you hide there, pray tell?” I heard from an empty spot on the opposite side of the table. In a second, a short guy appeared, dressed in a green doublet and a beret worn askew and decorated with a bunch of pheasant feathers.

  “Are you going to order something, sir?” asked Kirana, seemingly unsurprised. She was probably used to players’ antics. “Should I bring you something?”

  “Two beers, dark,” Abel ordered. It was him.

  “And how long have you been spying on me?” I asked.

  “Not long. Listen, a thief with perfect skills can pick the lock on both your room and your chest, so be careful. If it’s something valuable, you’d better send it to the bank or the clan warehouse,” he recommended. “So, what’s that?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Personal stuff,” I said, wincing. “To what do I owe the honor, Abel? It’s unlike you to visit without a good reason.”

  “You’re right. Well, I have two pieces of news for you, and both bad. Which one do you want to hear first, the bad or the very bad one?”

  “Any of them, I don’t care,” I replied, yawning.

  “Then first, the bad one. Unfortunately, we were unable to defer you from the exam into the Watchers.”

  “But Komtur promised that for Tao — “

  “That was before the rollback, during the battle, and I got the impression that Tao pretty much owned all of you back then. But that’s not the issue here. In short, we had a conversation and decided that that’s how it would be. You must pass the exam, just like the others. All of us have gone through it, all Watchers, and there will be no exceptions. It’s an initiation, get it?”

  “What if I fail?”

  “Then, you won’t become one of us!” Abel cut me off sharply. “But you’ll make it, Cat.”

  I shook my head. It was hard to understand the logic of the Watchers’ leadership. They were both stubborn and very calculating. Komtur was no fool; was he prepared to lose a player with an imba sword just to observe the traditions? It smelled fishy.

  “The second piece of news, the very bad one, arises from the first,” Abel continued. “As you remember, we hired Pandorum to kill HELL. Now we owe them a hundred souls. You promised Komtur to help with this, but there’s a catch: we have a contract with HELL that says — “

  “...That the Watchers leave the faction war, blah blah blah,” I finished the sentence. “So what, Abel?”

  “It appears that you can’t join the clan until you farm souls and give them to Pandorum. To break it down, you’re neutral, clanless, and you have to do it now. To sum it up, we decided to reschedule the Liberty exam for after we pay up the Pandas.”

  “So am I understanding it correctly?” I started, trying to keep the boiling rage at bay. “You want me to farm a hundred souls and give them to the Pandas, after which you conduct the Liberty exam? And I have no guarantee of getting into the clan?”

  “We’ll arrange everything and back you up,” Abel said quickly. “There’ll be a raid, everything’s been set up. It’s three or four hours, maybe five or six....”

  “It’s ridiculous. You get everything, I get nothing with zero guarantees? You seem to be a reasonable man, Abel. Imagine how it looks from the outside.”

  “Think about the Liberty recruits,” Abel said. “Don’t be selfish. They’re all waiting for the exam, and we’re waiting for you to give it. All of you, together, must pass the trial. In short — no souls, no exam. Use your brains.”

  What a stupid blackmail. Why would I care about other recruits? Well, actually, I did care; I knew how Ivan and Maria wanted to get into the clan and the pains they took during practice sessions, and the other guys too... But it was bad form, stringing me along, making Cat the punching bag.

  I fell to thinking, feeling cold anger seething inside me. The Watchers’ leaders were wrong.

  What if I told them to bugger off? I had a Diamond account, the support of the Magister, and a global goal. I could get by without them. Any clan would be glad to have me...

  I sighed deeply. I really needed to calm the hell down and think logically. Don’t let your feelings get the best of you, play your own game, Cat!

  One soldier doesn’t make a battle. I needed the Watchers; no matter how you cut it, the region was theirs. And I needed the support and information of a powerful alliance. I had to become a part of it, blend in, understand how the world worked. I needed access to the clan’s finances and logistics, their help to get to the place where Svechkin was.

  But they needed me, too. The Watchers’ ass was on fire, going by how much they were pushing me in regards to the Pandas. There was no point in being high-minded with Komtur. It wouldn’t give me anything except a conflict.

  But who said I had to be selfless and noble? I didn’t want that, and I wasn’t going to. The Watchers needed souls? Well, I wanted a profit.

  “Listen, Abel,” I said. “I don’t mind helping the clan. But you said it yourself, right now, I’m a noname, a clanless player, and that’s true. How about a gentlemen’s agreement? I give you souls, and you reward me.”

  “A reward? What do you want?”

  “I don’t know yet. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  “Cat, there’s no time. Pandas...don’t like waiting. With each day, our debt grows. We need to do everything as fast as we can.”

>   “Okay,” I yawned. “Is Komtur online? Let’s fly to Condor and have a talk with your Council, heart to heart.”

  * * *

  “Here’s our hero, give him a warm welcome!” Abel said, surrendering me to Komtur and Olaf. “Deal with him yourselves, I can’t bear it any longer!” And he dramatically dissolved into thin air.

  Komtur seemed happy to see me. I made a mental note not to forget during our conversation that his plain looks hid a powerful intellect. The leader of one of Dorsa’s premiere clans couldn’t be ordinary.

  “Cat. Do you remember our deal?” Komtur asked. “A hundred souls, we owe Pandorum a hundred souls.”