The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series

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The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 16

by Vasily Mahanenko


  “You carefully run a dagger through its eye socket and turn it three times. Once to kill it, twice – for pleasure.”

  Nata’s words flashed through my mind, making me view the situation differently.

  “Monster, why did you guys start killing the players?" I asked the tank who was holding Logir.

  “Duh… there weren’t no more o’dem mages, and our guys showed up and it was, like, no stopping…” Monstrichello rumbled.”

  “Sartal, why did you start killing?” Understanding that it was hopeless to expect an intelligent answer from the tank, I addressed the reptilian. It had always seemed to me that he was a reasonable player.

  “The experience, the levels,” Sartal started, then faltered, fell silent for a little while, then hissed: “They all jus-s-st looked at us-s-s being cut down-s-s and no one would help u-s-ss! If we had joined forces-s-s-s, the mages-s-s would not have done anyth-th-thing to anyone. But they allowed them to kill us-s-s!”

  “Teart?” I turned towards the leprechaun, because the reptilian suddenly froze and his eyes glazed over, as if he was remembering all the offences inflicted on him by other players “You did not take part in the battle. Why?”

  “Because it’s stupid and unproductive. I hate battles. I tried to get the rest to see reason, but… you can see what came out of it.”

  “Are you done?” Dolgunata came up to me, casually putting her hand on my shoulder. “Yari, we don’t have much time. Energy in the Academy does not replenish itself… Deliver the verdict and then the two of us can continue together.

  “Fine,” I agreed, thinking in surprise why the thought even occurred to me to try to investigate. Everything was crystal clear: the Paladins are guilty; they need to be judged and punished! Because that’s the wish of…

  Of whom? Was it my wish? Or someone else’s?

  The desire to make a judgment here and now dissipated. I looked at Dolgunata, who raised a brow quizzically; noted her beauty one more time, squeezed my eyes, gathering my strength, and then said, addressing the skies:

  “I need additional information to deliver a verdict! I need a description and examples of use of headhunters’ ability to suppress the will of other beings!”

  Dolgunata’s eyes widened in surprise; she was about to start saying something when the long-awaited message appeared before my eyes:

  Request is granted. Access to Temple of Knowledge is provided.

  “Welcome to the Temple of Knowledge, young Judge,” the old man said, opening his arms in greeting. “Before you study the information, the request for providing which has been granted as justified, please explain the logic of your query. We are interested in your line of thinking.”

  “We?”

  “First warning, young Judge,” the old man cut me off, smiling. “Two more and you will be banned from the Temple of Knowledge for a year. Why did you decide to learn more about the specialty of headhunters? Is Logir’s betrayal not a sufficiently grave reason for delivering a verdict?”

  “I am starting to get the impression that there was no betrayal,” I replied in a dead voice, becoming more and more convinced that my conclusions were right. After all, being a judge is not easy, particularly when a case concerns people who are close to you or have become so. “The Paladins’ actions defied logic. They did not correspond to the psychological pattern of the team that I had observed, so I started to dig. Reviewing the video only confirmed my suspicions: it was as if the Paladins were affected by something that made all their base feelings come out. I recalled the moment when the druid suppressed my mind, leaving only animal lust and passion; therefore I requested additional information. I need to know the capabilities of hunters who suppress other beings’ will.”

  “We heard you… a coincidence… Well, that too has a place in our life. Description of the specialty is waiting for you.” The old man pointed to the coffee table, losing interest in me.

  Suppressor: specialty, available to players who choose “Headhunter” as their development path. A most popular specialty for Headhunters. Players of this specialty bring out their victims’ basest desires and feelings, enhance them, remove moral and physiological constraints, take control and make the victim perform the actions Headhunters need. Limitations: initial levels require physical contact with the victim; advanced skills enable remote application. It’s impossible to force the victim to perform actions that are not its secret or internal desire. Number of simultaneously controlled beings: unlimited; determined by the level of specialty development. Active suppression of the victim’s will lowers Energy level by 20 units; maintaining control over victim requires 5 Energy units per minute per victim.

  Example: Headhunter’s victim hides in safe location. Victim is known to love flowers. Headhunter specializing as “suppressor” places flowers around the victim’s refuge, then influences the victim forcing it to express its love of flowers. Victim without high moral integrity will be forced to leave safety to look for flowers.

  Suppression can be avoided by: use of amulets (probability of suppression is determined by amulet strength and suppression level); absence of secret and internal desires; high moral integrity. This is not a magical ability.

  “What for?!” I heard Dolgunata’s exclamation of surprise, then she stopped, having met my gaze. The Game returned me to the Academy precisely at the same moment as I was stating my request for information, so the others did not notice my absence. But Dolgunata did. One glance was enough for the druid to understand: I knew everything.

  “What are you gonna do, Judge?" the druid smirked, taking a few steps back and quickly chewing an Energy-replenishing patty.

  “First – I close the case that I initiated, “Improper Behavior of the Paladins” due to absence of elements of crime in their actions.” I didn’t know from where so much ice appeared in my voice, but right now all the penguins of the Antarctic would have become my avid fans. The smile started fading from the druid’s face and she took two more quick steps back as if apprehensive either of me or of my verdict.

  “Second – Monstrichello, let Logir go, she is not guilty.”

  “You know where you may go, you and your orders? You are a dead man!” The femorc exploded as soon as she was freed, but it did not stop me. Ignoring the hammer that appeared in Logir’s hands, I came right up to her, put my hand her shoulder and continued in the same arctic voice: “Logir, I understand your attitude towards me. Just like you, I am familiar with the pain of losing someone close. But you are a headhunter! You don’t have the right to allow emotions to govern you. Otherwise the Game will shut you down. No one forced Nartalim to become a traitor‒ that was the choice he made himself. But you have been forced. In order to resist the influence you must accept the loss and let him go. If you want to get back at me for Nartalim, I am at your service, but after the Academy. At this time it’s not even as though only I need you – the whole team needs you. You’re trying to leave Zagransh; do you really want to be stuck there forever? There’s no such thing as an impulsive Paladin…”

  “I…” the moment I mentioned Logir’s homeland, the femorc’s eyes cleared. There was no more fury and hatred in them: on the contrary, there was confusion and worry. Logir was able to overcome the druid’s influence: her secret attraction to Nartalim was no longer secret; strong negative emotions for her former place of residence completed the process of freeing her by pushing the druid out of her mind. Confirming my thought, the femorc whispered: “Yari… I didn’t…”

  “Sartal, Monstrichello, Refor and Dirion!” Stopping Logir, I started working on freeing the minds of the remaining Paladins. Thanks to Sartal I knew the secret pain of the team: inaction of the other players. So that’s what I’d have to work with. “I know the feeling of helplessness that you experienced. Sometimes it seems that the whole world is against you, and instead of helping, other players pass you by, pretending thoroughly that they haven’t noticed your pain. You need to overcome this, grow stronger and move on. The Game is cru
el. No one will ever come to your aid unless there’s a worthwhile reward for it: get used to it. The only creatures in the game from whom you might receive help for free are your class brothers. But you must be worthy of the name of Paladins! Right now I am only seeing a herd of sheep who have followed the sweet words of the druid and now do her bidding! Wake up! If you want to be players – don’t be like sheep!”

  “You’re a sh-sh-sheep yours-s-self!” Sartal grumbled, returning to his normal state. Once again I had ended up having to talk a lot to find the right influence point, but the result was achieved: the druid’s influence dissipated. “We are worth-th-thy Paladins-s-s!

  “What the fuck!” rumbled Monstrichello, looking around in amazement. “What, we, like, for real whacked dem all dead? Why in hell?”

  “Dolgunata.” Finally, I turned around to the culprit of the whole scene. The druid had recollected herself, and was looking at me with a smirk, awaiting my further actions, but not worried for her life. Neither I nor anyone else from our group would be able to send her to respawn singlehanded, and we were very far from being a united team at this point. I knew that and so did she, so she was simply waiting to see what would happen next. The current situation amused her. “Go away. Just go away. Our ways part from now on.”

  “So simply?” the druid asked mockingly, suddenly standing next to me. “Without all of the 'I sentence you to disqualification for life' or wishes of horrid punishments? Will you really let me go, darling?”

  The world stopped yet again. The most desirable, wonderful and sweet girl in the word was there right next to me. I needed to love her, kiss her, adore and admire her, not send her away! How did I have the heart to tell her “go away”? Don’t I understand that if we part now I will lose here forever? Just like my mother and sister?

  Suddenly the image of smirking Archibald flashed through my mind, and all of Dolgunata’s charm faded. The druid was still just as desirable and attractive, but I had regained my ability to think!

  “It seems like I also need to bring to light all my secret desires.” It was hard to talk, my tongue twisted, wanting only to praise the druid, but I was adamant. I needed to go through this! “Dolgunata, I admit that you are attractive, beautiful and desirable. I admit that I wish to an incredible extent to have sex with you. To hold you in my arms and never let go until the end of my life. You are my ideal… But I am not an animal! I will not allow you play on my lust and obscure my mind. You are dangerous. You are ruthless. You are a cripple. Not physically, but morally. You don’t have principles, you don’t have boundaries, for the sake of granises you were ready to frame my entire team… Our ways part here. Good luck in the Academy."

  “Amazing‒ the kids have come to their senses,” Dolgunata drawled, shifting her gaze from one Paladin to another. I didn’t even need to turn around to be able to say with conviction that Monstrichello was standing right behind me, ready to cover me with the shield at any moment; at my sides there were Logir and Refor with their weapons at ready. The Paladins had united. Each of us would be helpless and weak against the druid on our own, but together we were a force that even she would have to reckon with.

  Closing the case “Improper Behavior of the Paladins” is confirmed

  “I admit that I went a little too far with the control thing, but no one wanted to attack the players,” Dolgunata smiled affably, spreading her arms. “Why should we lose out on the experience points? We didn’t come to the Academy in order to think of some moral principles. The Game is cruel‒ I shouldn’t be the one telling you about it. I agree, I did want to get rid of the femorc. You could see my point here – it’s not often that you work next to a judge who hands out granises left and right. Easy riches blinded me, and I… I am at fault, I can’t deny it, but after all nothing happened! Everyone is alive and well. Moreover…”

  Dolgunata spoke beautifully and compellingly. If one were to listen to the druid, it was she who fell prey to the circumstances; moreover, we were the ones who forced her to commit all the wrongdoings of which we were accusing her. But in truth she was the white and fluffy one, poor, innocent and defenseless, even though, for some reason, we failed to see that! I smiled sadly: it would be interesting to see Dolgunata’s suppression level right now. Does she really not need to touch the players for it at this stage? And how many Energy replenishing patties does she actually have?

  “Team! Listen to my command!” I shouted, distracting the Paladins from Dolgunata’s charming words. Enough suppressors for us. I still needed to sort it out with Logir – what did she choose as her specialty? I can’t afford a potential hypnotist hang out freely in the team. “Dolgunata is our enemy! Kill her!”

  The hammer and the saber came down on the druid’s head at once, as if Logir and Refor had trained together for years to achieve blow synchronicity. Dolgunata only had time to open her eyes wide in surprise; then her body glimmered and winked out of existence, leaving barely trampled grass behind. I turned around and looked at the Paladins.

  “Dolgunata will respawn in an hour; she will do everything she can to avenge her respawn. She is a clever and dangerous adversary; compared to her all the local mages are silly toddlers. So! Get going NOW! Rest will wait! Logir, gimme an invite…"

  Functionally becoming part of a team didn’t bring me any dividends; in the top right corner a small tab appeared with the Paladins portraits‒ that was it. Clicking on a portrait opened information on the player, but there was nothing that I didn’t already know. Maybe just the levels: killing the players brought Monstrichello to level 5 and the others to 4. With my level 2 I looked like a kid next to them. There was no other information available — nothing on Energy level, age, or specialty. The Game concealed personal information most thoroughly, and only the players themselves had the right to disclose it.

  Training to use the artifacts took just a few moments, so once the last Paladin had left the teacher, I commanded, remembering my sergeant from the boot camp:

  “Ready? We need to get to the next teacher! Monster first, followed by Logir and Refor‒ I'll take the rear. Onward! On the double!” Our sergeant had a hallmark phrase that would have suited the current situation very well: “If you want it done well, do it yourself or hire some Mexicans. There are no Mexicans here, so “On the double!” I needed to finish the Academy at all costs. I wanted to survive. So going under Logir’s rule would be silly and pointless; I remembered where the group ended up under her command. I had no management skills myself; however, I would rather make mistakes and take personal responsibility for my own mistakes than later kick myself for my partners’ mistakes. You end up having to do everything yourself. No one tried to contest my right to command, even Logir. Paladins took off and ran to the next teacher who would train them in using the game interface. But literally a minute later I heard an excited shout from Monstrichello:

  “Kill dem freaks! All the Way!”

  We ran into some mages.

  The procedure for destroying the enemy we had worked out at the previous teacher’s site worked like a charm this time as well. Out of twenty players in dark robes who ran to the clearing from all the nearby passages only three had the brains to control their Energy use: those we had to finish off ourselves. The rest sent themselves to respawn without us having to give them as much as a kick to send them on their way. By the way, the outcome of the battle showed me Dolgunata’s point of view. As soon as the first mage had sent himself to respawn, the system gladly and pleasantly awarded me 200 experience points. Once for each body. 17 retarded overgrown lemmings – that was the kindest name the mages deserved – had lifted me to unprecedented heights: 3rd level, 103 Energy units. Once I saw that I had less than a hundred experience points to attain level 4, I nearly rushed off to strangle the three mages who were, stunned, looking at their hands, at us, and then at the nearest pass. Once we took just one step forward, two players streaked away, howling like mad, apparently deciding that their own skins were worth more than the potential reward.
However, not everyone ran off…

  Unstoppable as death itself Monstrichello moved towards the remaining mage. Being slow must have been a personal problem of this particular player, and we would be solving it for him now... But as soon as Monster lifted his shield for the final blow, the mage crashed to the ground and broke out bawling, trying to cover his head with his hands:

  “Noooo! Don’t! Please don’t! It’s my last life and I am not initiated! Please don’t kill me!”

  The kid, selected by the Game as a mage, was seventeen at most. Lanky like our Dirion, with fair hair that was knotted, with bright green eyes filled with primal terror, trying to protect himself with his hands against Monstrichello’s shield, the mage was a pitiful sight. Instead of the necessary anger and hatred, the only feelings he aroused were disgust and fear of touching something nasty. Our thug froze, looming over the whimpering player and looked at me, confused. Despite his limited intelligence, Monstrichello didn’t want to mar his shield with that creature.

  “Have you killed any Paladins?” I asked once the thrill of the battle subsided.

  “Don’t kill me! Please don’t!” All the young mage was capable of at the moment was to beg and spread spit and snot on his face. This was no way for any constructive dialogue, let alone interrogation.

  “Shut up!” Monstrichello got it right: we were not going to kill the kid, so using the old tried and true method he made the mage shut his trap. Or howl from pain, actually: not every player could withstand a kick in the stomach with a steel boot. The blow threw the mage a ways to the side; he whimpered but at least stopped begging for mercy. Perhaps he also understood that we were not going to kill him right away. Or maybe he just went bonkers from fear.

  “Guys, get on with the training,” I pointed at the old guy looking into space with a distant air; then I turned around to face the kid, who was now quiet: “Can you talk?”

 

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