The Way of the Clan 7

by Dem Mikhaylov

  A few impressive bolts of lightning flashed… and a spear appeared in the hand of the knight as he came flying back down.

  “Damn!” I said, in spitefulness, sending a whole grove of prickly thorns the way of my enemy.

  The horse did not flinch, boldly bracing itself for the impact and … easily breaking them. I did not notice a drop in health in either the horse or rider.

  The spear flew over my head as I just managed to duck, howling in fear.

  How do you even throw a three-meter spear?!

  “Wicked ones!”

  “Bastard!” I yelled in response, sending additional thorns at the rider. “Orbit! Let us leave now! His level is too high!”

  “Equestrian Special!” The elf shouted back, sending out several ghosts. The figure of the Krabber took a position in front of the mammoth while my Tyrant, whom I did not yet wish to send into battle, stood at the side. Waiting…

  Equestrian special - this was true. The player went through a narrow specialization. Most likely a chivalrous one. And now, one could say he had merged into one whole with his fighting horse. He was able to do much more sophisticated attacks while in the saddle. He controlled the horse only by the power of thought, and the horse himself received a lot of bonuses from the owner.

  We were being attacked by a real equestrian knight. Fast, armored and strong. Extremely skillful. Fierce as a motherfucker - but that is because he saw us as rabid fascists. I had not seen such rabid anger in a while. The helmet, without a visor, revealed a brown bearded face terribly contorted with rage. The teeth were showing, and there were folds between the menacing eyebrows so deep that it was possible to arrange a mass grave for ants.

  “Despicable heretics!” Turning his horse steeply, the warrior threw another spear. This time, he did not throw it at me but at a bigger target. The blow was terrible - Kolyvan shook from side to side. It was a miracle that we did not fall off. But my daughter did - her shield dropping to the side.

  “Swine!” I roared, shooting thorns at the enemy with both hands. “Roska! Here! Run!”

  “I will help him-m-m!” Came the reply. The magic shield had shattered to pieces like a crystal one would. The barefooted girl ran across the grass, heading towards the abandoned hillock, next to which Whisper was fighting to the death.

  “Orbit! After her!” I shouted, releasing another thorny forest.

  “One…”

  B-B-B-BAM!

  If the previous blow was terrible, this one was beyond. I was swept away like a piece of dust, straight into my own thorny forest. Stunned. Confusion. Deafness. Weakness. Poison. All the effects were imposed at once. The scene before me lost all colors - only black and white was left.

  I tried to jump up, but took one wrong step and collapsed again, tangled up in my own feet. I could not utter a single spell, and could only silently move my lips, watching as life drained from me.

  Roska…

  Where is my daughter…

  St-tand… Stand up…

  There was the thick smell of smoke everywhere.

  Someone’s shadow was passing by. I notice a line of fire and I fall again from the impact, shouting without sound - like in a black and white movie.

  Turning over, I crawled forward through the smoke. The wind cleared in only for a moment, in which I saw the giant carcass of Kolyvan lying on his side, tossing and turning. Next was something that looked like a very large dart - about four meters in length.

  A tall, familiar shadow was coming over - the armored rider with an armored horse. Abruptly, the silvery spear moved forward and pierced the helplessly shaking mammoth. Kolyvan’s cry is so loud and overwhelming that I do not immediately understand that the effect of deafness has muted it. The ghost crab rushes to the knight, and his claw clamps down on the muzzle of the horse, pulling sharply - a piercing horse neigh is added to the mammoth’s weeping.

  “I will kill you all! Children of Satan!” In the hands of the knight, raised to the sky, are two spears at once. “Hold on, my friend Liorvedante! Hold on, my faithful steed! R-ra!”

  One spear goes into the Kolyvan. The other into the Krabber. The ghost flies at the warrior's head, screams fiercely, tries to dig into his eyes… and becomes small shreds of smoke. I am worried… the Krabber, when he reappears again, is smoking, roaring angrily, continuing to attack the horse’s muzzle. Hit! Again the Kolyvan… his trembling life points have long been red. A luminous, blue arrow bites into the chest of the knight - frost begins to creep across his armor. From behind the Kolyvan appears the barefoot figure of the bald elf. He runs up and jumps forward, holding the handle of the dagger with both hands. The enemy’s horse retreats a step, but this is enough for Orbit to miss.

  Hit! Back to Kolyvan! The spear flashes brightly - the shaft of it is purple. There is a pillar of light in the sky. In response, there is a booming crack from the side of the small fortress.

  “NO!” I scream, stretching out my hand. “No!” But no one hears.

  Hit!

  And the body of the colossal beast freezes, and twitches with a haze… it disappears, leaving several objects on the ground. Kolyvan has fallen.

  With a deep growl, the black and white wolf emerges from the smoke and goes at the horse’s throat. The knight bends down and beats off Tyrant’s attack with an armored fist:

  “Reviling creatures!”

  “Jackass!” I say, at the edge of consciousness. Now I can stand and not fall. Which is what I am doing - taking an upright position and aiming both hands at the bastard spewing curses.

  “Jackass!” A magical thorny forest grows around the warhorse, reaches the waist of the rider. A short fiery blast hits the enemy’s helmet, causing him to fall off the horse. A black shadow flashes in the smoky air. The elf lands on the back of the horse and thrusts the blade of the knife into the gap between the helmet and collar. The answer is a spiteful wail that is so sudden and natural it seems as though a real knight was experiencing not only fury, but also pain.

  I add fire, and another thorny forest. I lose my mana reserves - yet again. And still I haven’t caused any damage to the enemy.

  The mounted knight throws his hand forward and grabs Orbit by the shoulder. He pulls him off easily. He rips him off but does not let go - the bald elf hangs in the air, held by the powerful knight. With the other hand, the knight pulls a short sword from his belt. His lips are curled:

  “Loathsome heretic!”

  At that moment, a stone I have thrown strikes against his helmet. A second later, I jump up and cling to his knee. My digital skin is torn with thorns, but I do not care. The knight sharply pulls aside - opposite from me, Tyrant has pounced. His fangs screech terribly on the armor. A blow with a sword… a blow of the knee… I fly away like a tennis ball, but Tyrant continues to tear at him.

  “Howl!” I scream, rising from the ground and shooting fire at the enemy. “Howl!”

  He cannot howl - he is being beaten by a short sword. The writhing elf moves closer to the opponent holding him. Pressing his palm to his lips, he exhales a cloud of dust onto the knight. A fierce cry is heard again… and the blade of the sword sinks into Obit.

  “No! Motherfucker!” I yell. “Son of a bitch! Now you’re in deep shit!”

  My behavior is terrible… but this beast is simply enraging! And his behavior was no better than ours! He called us all the names he could. A massive cobblestone strikes the knight, but his knee is not even scratched. Another blow! A kick at the wolf! The horse is freed from the thorns. Tyrant is thrown aside, quietly whining. He has received a blow to the backside with the horse’s rear hooves. Hit! The blade of the sword gets Orbit in the throat, and… the bald elf dies, turning into a cloud of silvery mist with golden sparks. Orbit died…

  “Son of a bi-i-i-itch!” I am roaring, taking a piece of wood from the ground. “Tyrant! To Roska! Now!”

  The limping wolf, almost dead, turns abruptly and runs to the side. The eyes of the knight meet mine.

  “Scum! Abomination
that walks the earth!”

  “Dad! Dad!”

  “Roska!” I scream so loud that I myself am deafened. “Get on Tyrant! Get out of here!”

  “Dad!”

  “Leave! Immediately! Run! There!” I gesture in the opposite direction of the castle.

  I could see the black and white wolf carry the thin girl away on his back, running away, increasing his speed with each passing second. His life had recovered a little by now. Roska was pressed to his back, clinging to the thick hair with both hands.

  “Freak of nature,” I breathed out, leaping forward.

  Hit!

  I flew in the other direction - the horse has hit me with his hoof. And the knight slowly aims his spear.

  “Freak!” I repeat the same word, slowly getting up.

  In the distance, there is a crowd of players huddled around someone lying on his back on the ground. They are delivering blow after blow. Whisper…

  “Hey!” I roared. Picking up a sharp piece of wood, I jumped again at the enemy. I could not help it - I turned my eyes away from the target for a moment, and saw a huge half-orc hurrying towards us, dressed in scarlet armor.

  My blow! The sharp piece of wood bit into the crevice of the armor near the knee.

  The enemy’s hit! I had time to see the spear point, and the world got dark.

  Flash!

  Hello rainbow…

  This?...

  Yes, this is death, but not the end. A merry striped rainbow carries me away, affectionately encouraging me, whispering in my ear.

  Another silent flare reports on the end of the “otherworldly journey,” and then something unexpected follows: I hear the howl of a melancholy wolf, and then a few unintelligible words against the background.

  What the fuck is this?!

  And then the whirlwind picks me up again.

  Flash… flash… I am thrown onto the gray brick.

  The flight is over… I can unfasten my seatbelt.

  Chapter Four.

  Death is the beginning of the journey -

  The most important thing is not to avoid it! Grit your teeth - and go!

  I was thrown onto a familiar stone slab buried in the dry, red earth. A rag like scarecrow with a hat and three legs was swaying on a stone column. When the wooden lower jaw was slammed shut, the scarecrow looked just like a nutcracker.

  “Traveler, get off the stone. Do not just stand there,” said the hanged toy.

  So I stepped down, stunned, leaving the cold stone of the revival portal.

  I took a step forward and almost collapsed, stumbling over something living.

  Orbit. Wearing only a diaper, the bald elf was sitting on the stove, pressing his bare knees to his chest and looking in a trance at the horizon.

  “Why are you sitting?” I muttered, stifling my anger. Orbit was not to blame for me dying in battle. Rather, it was because of me that the bald elf died. Both him and the mammoth Kolyvan. But I needed a release. And when you’re angry, and there’s no outlet, keeping it to yourself is torture.

  I am angry because of the death. Frightened, because of my daughter. Where was Roska?

  “Ro-o-o-oska!” I screamed as hard as I could. Then I turned and yelled in the opposite direction: “Ro-o-o-oska!”

  Was she here? The hope was futile, but it was still a hope.

  I pulled up the pets interface, and cursed when a message informed me that Tyrant was too far to call. I would need a special dog whistle or something like that. But I did not have anything. I would have to run to the nearest city. I did not even have teleportation scrolls. I only had a diaper on.

  “Traveler, get off the stone, do not stand there,” said the nagging voice of the scarecrow.

  “Orbit!” I barked, unable to stand it. “Get off of the slate! Or he won’t shut up! Let’s go!...”

  But where? Around us was a wasteland stretching in all fucking directions! On one side there was something like rolling hills, and in the other, a mountain range.

  “Traveler, get off the stone, do not stand here…”

  “What the hell, Or…”

  And then I stopped, fully looking at the elf for the first time.

  An expressionless face. Eyes looking at one point, lips tightly compressed. Fingers trembling.

  The hell?

  “Orbit!” I said, pushing his shoulder. “Hey!”

  And in return… silence. Scary. A problem with the gaming system? Why was he frozen?

  “Orbit! Hey! Come on!”

  “Ros!” A familiar voice sounded, full of concern and sadness.

  A girl in a black leather suit jumped out of the teleport.

  “Ros, do not touch him. It is useless.”

  “I do not understand. What’s useless,” I asked. “Baroness, do you have anyone on the air? A dragon or something? I would like to find my daughter. She is riding a black and white wolf… at least tell me a direction.”

  “They’re already looking,” the Baroness nodded, stepping past me to her brother. The girl moved Orbit from the slab with one movement, sitting him like a doll at the base of a stone pillar. The scarecrow slammed its jaw shut.

  “What’s up with him?” I asked, with more concern.

  “He died,” The head of the Sleepless explained. “Damn it…”

  “So? Me too! But I am not sitting here, hugging my knees, staring into space! We have to move! Orbit! Hey! Wake up! Hey!”

  “Ros!” Roared the Baroness. “It is useless! Do not touch him! He died. For him, death in the game world is not just a gaming death! Orbit Crystiliano died! And now he decides who he will become… who he will be reborn as… where the great cycle of death and rebirth will take him…”

  “Huh?!” I said, feeling my lower jaw hang down like the scarecrow’s. “What nonsense is this? I do not understand half of what you said… honest.”

  “Neither do I,” confessed the Baroness. “I am just repeating his words. Ros, it is useless. It is not the first time nor is it the last. For him, death in Valdira is like death in the real world. According to him, after death, the soul goes back to the beginning of some damn cycle and the dead one will be reborn as someone else…”

  “Enough of this nonsense!” I yelled frantically.

  Grabbing Orbit by the shoulders, I furiously shook him, shouting viciously into his face:

  “Standup, balding pretzel! We have affairs to take care of, and you fell into meditation! Damn Buddha! Come on! My daughter is gone, Kolyvan is god knows where, Tyrant too, and you are sitting here! Your sister got crazy fuck! Talking some nonsense about death and rebirth - someone must have smacked her with a bible on the head this morning. Did you hear? Woe to you in the family - your sister is crazy! You are the last normal one from the whole family. And we’ve got business to take care of! So, get up, legs together, ass on the shoulders – and push the tempo of the limp waltz to find my child! I wonder where to look for her? Huh?! I tell your sister: help to find my daughter! And she spews this shit about rebirth!...”

  “Sh-he’s sick,” breathed Orbit, rising to his feet and looking with compassion at the Baroness, frozen like a column. “Let’s g-go!”

  “Come on,” I nodded. Stepping to the Baroness, I said: “Lend me two teleportation scrolls! Do not be stingy.”

  The head of the Sleepless, without saying a word, handed me two teleportation scrolls, and after a moment, the elf and I were gone. Before it carried us away, the Baroness heard our words:

  “You should take her to a doctor…”

  “W-would-d not help…”

  The Baroness was left alone, by the stone pillar, with the three-legged scarecrow.

  What was left in the area near the Dead Giant?

  A meat grinder. A meat grinder turned up to full power.

  The teleport magic lowered us gently in two paces from each other, and twenty meters from the drama. A quick glance around allowed me to determine that at least five clans of Valdira had been here.

  The Treeworms, the Fireha
wks, Messiah’s Light, Shadows, Hill Kings. And there were a couple of fighters from the Blade of Fear. All the soldiers I saw were struggling to inflict as much damage upon the Golden Templars.

  We had not been there for five minutes, and during this time, had seen that many clans. Most likely, each sent as many players as were available. I strongly doubted that all these clans were suddenly overwhelmed by a hatred of the Templars. Someone had called them here… and I could easily guess who. It was an alliance of Clans…

  Under the low clouds, several dragons and huge birds hovered. All were being very unfriendly to the Templars. Down fell a pair of blue and orange feathery birds, embroidered in blue and orange - the aerial forces of the Templars were being defeated.

  This was a real genocide, damn it. In ancient times, the real Templars were killed roughly the same way… only without magic and dragons. However, I was not very interested in the mess. I quickly found the remains of myself and Orbit, clots of fog on the ground. And… there was the Red Baron. He could not cope either - had not even killed the horse yet! This was a real duel - a one on one. I had already admired the skill of the Red Baron, but now my admiration had doubled. The opponent did not concede anything. Each blow was blocked. Controlled by the will of the rider, the horse literally danced, spun, bit, and struck with its hooves. It was something to see… and the furious swearing of the rider had acquired some more realism.

  “Carrion! Rotten bastard! Minion of evil!” The mounted warrior from the Templar clan did not stop for a second.

  And for the first time, I was able to examine him in detail.

  The Templar had unusual armor… a construction of chain mail, thick plates, pieces of cuirass and other metal pieces. The work of some serious blacksmith with a sick imagination. The level of the warrior was two hundred twenty, plus there was something that looked like a real halo atop his head. An aura, at worst. The name was terrible - really terrible. Fagnir Necrosis. Already trembling looking at it… or was it from the memory of how that bastard killed me?

  In any case, I did not dare think about avenging myself. I was just here for my pants.