The Beginning (Dark Paladin Book #1) LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  It took me about five minutes to calm down. Trying to find something that would enable my brain to stop and switch to something else, shifting it from the “panic” mode to the mode of conscious actions, I started looking around trying to find anything unusual. Anything that differed from the background, anything that I could study. I was able to do that. Even twice.

  The first thing that caught my eye was the frame of the team, showing that the Paladins and Dolgunata were alive and well, having received an extra level during the past hour. At this point I was at the lowest mark, with my level at 4. Teart had the 6th, Dirion and Sartal the 7th, Logir and Refor the 8th, Monstrichello the 9th and Dolgunata – I could barely believe my eyes – level 12. The druid was over 10 already! As soon as the level of adrenaline in my blood dropped to acceptable values, I did something important: left the group. I’d had enough fighting together! Because of the gift from the head of the Academy I could easily see the current location of the Paladins: they were even now going around the respawn clearing and moving in my direction, while I had no intention of showing them my location on the map.

  I scowled — the druid just wouldn’t settle down! One needn’t be a Nostradamus to predict the future: Teart would lead the Paladins along safe paths toward me, Dolgunata would again give me an ultimatum, I would not take that well and be sent to respawn again. I had no intention of submitting to the druid. Did I really need that? Not likely!

  The second thing that caught my eye and prevented me from immediately climbing up along the guiding beam was a strange yellowish glow that came from a pile of trash that was sitting right on the ground. I was taken aback at first, trying to understand the logic behind the glow, and then the Book of Knowledge came to my aid. A marker appeared above the pile: “97% match”, and when I mentally clicked on it I saw the entry on the recipe found by Teart. So, once you see an object, in this case a pile of trash hiding the recipe or something else you were seeking, it then would begin analyzing everything you saw and highlight similarities that it discovers? Wishing to check my guess, I ran up to the pile and brushed it aside. I smiled, seeing that there was in fact a recipe under it. Now looking for objects to generate future profits would become a lot easier; I only need to do one small thing: survive and complete this blasted Academy. The first step toward that was simple and clear: I needed to keep away from my former team.

  Constantly checking the map for the location of the Paladins moving towards me as they apparently decided to check out the spot where I was before leaving the team, I moved towards the teacher for attack capabilities. My escape from the respawn point gave me an interesting tactic that I wanted to test at once: a lightning-fast attack and then a retreat, just as rapid. The training itself is instantaneous, the teacher is standing at the edge of the clearing near the forest; even if he were monitored all the time, players’ concentration would not be perfect. They are not elite fighters who have been training for many years! In the majority of cases these are tired players, intimidated by the mages and hoping to survive. Where would they get lightning-fast reactions? They would most likely linger, giving me a few seconds, and I should take advantage of that. Because now it’s time to work on my own development.

  The clearing with the teacher was still full of people. Clustering into groups, the players whispered among themselves, lounged on the sand, fought – I was not sure if they were serious or just sparring in jest, to check what they had learned. The players were doing whatever one could imagine, but were definitely not guarding the teacher. The only ones who maintained some sort of concentration were the mages I knew from my time entering the Academy: Olzar and his team. They were the ones that had caught me, taken me to the first training and then lost me. Trying to make as little noise as possible, I moved directly behind the teacher’s back and listened to the conversation of the mages.

  “… only 2 levels left. It’s a day of life. What then, just kicking the bucket?”

  “Dangard ordered us to control this teacher, so that’s what we’ll do.” Olzar was adamant. “It’s better to croak here than to return to Devir. You’ve seen yourself what he'll do to everyone should the Paladins return. So we need to hold on.”

  Oh, wow! Devir held a show of an execution in front of all the mages in the Academy? Someone was killed only to demonstrate what’s in store for those who return? Devir is obviously totally psycho!

  “Olzar, but we are not initiated. There’s the labyrinth ahead‒ we’ll just bloody die in there, and that’ll be the end of us. I don’t understand why we’re hanging out here! For the life of me I don’t!”

  “I don’t myself, either… Dangard said that for those who know the rules the labyrinth would not be dangerous. But only he and Ahean know the rules. And who the hell knows in which corner of the Academy he spawned. So we’ll wait for Dangard.”

  “He knows the rules, right! Ha! If he’d known the Academy as well as he says he does, he’d never have gotten himself caught by a monster. And now it looks like it’s the Paladins who are better prepared. They know the rules for moving around the forest. And that’s despite the fact that they drew the lot to be the sacrifice!”

  Lots? Sacrifice? The Book of Knowledge sucked up information like a sponge, and I even forgot for a while why I came there. It’s not often that it becomes possible to listen in on such a frank conversation about the root cause of all your problems.

  “Yeah, they do,” Olzar confirmed, but immediately added wryly, “but what good will it be to them? So they know how to wander around the forest: so what? All the teachers are blocked off and we control all the respawn points. Once Dangard respawns he’ll tell us what happened between him and the Paladin and why they didn’t just pop him off right away. Perhaps they used the magic again, and that huge prick absorbed it all. Sooner or later they’ll just run out of Energy and will have to get down on the ground. So that’s not the worst. I’m much more scared of the wastelands. Like really scared. From what I heard it looks like it’s some sort of real trash place! They say that… Damn! Have you gone completely bonkers there, you cross-eyed freaks?!”

  Three arrows, one after another, stuck in the ground next to Olzar’s foot; they came from the players who were fighting each other. The arrows vanished practically at once, showing that they had been a creation of one of the game capabilities; a group of dog-headed hunters froze in place like they were statues. Apparently, knowing how to use the attack capabilities is one thing, and practice in using them is quite another, and some players had obvious problems in that respect.

  “Do you understand that you could’ve hit us, you morons?” Olzar kept screaming, slowly approaching the hunters. — “This is the Game! Here, if it were to as much as touch me…”

  The entire group of the mages moved after Olzar, willing to punish the hapless hunters, and I saw that I’d never find a better moment to get my training. If it weren’t now, it would be never. I was sitting three meters above ground, so I took a deep breath, banishing fear, and jumped towards the teacher. There was no time to climb down in comfort.

  Hitting the ground almost knocked me out, but I used what remained of my consciousness to leap over the distance separating me from the teacher, and blurted with one breath:

  “I want to partake of your wisdom and learn to use the attack capabilities of my class!”

  Learning progress: You have reached teacher 4 of 10

  “You are impatient and harsh, recruit,” the old man grinned as soon as the space around us changed. “It’s an uncomfortable feeling when I am not even allowed to say my words of welcome …”

  “You know very well why I had to do this," I responded, plopping on the grass. My ankle hurt and standing on it was too much for me. Apparently, I wouldn’t make a stellar traceur.

  “I know, and that’s why I allowed you to become lost outside of time. We aren’t particularly happy with what the mages are doing.”

  “Fate chose the Paladins as a sacrifice,” I said, venturing a guess. “So t
hat’s why they’re trying as hard as they can.”

  “Fate always selects someone as a sacrifice, but that’s no reason for everyone to follow it blindly!” the old man responded. “Everyone’s supposed to have their own head on their shoulders! Besides, who appointed the mages as executioners? The Viceroy? For some reason I have grave doubts about that.”

  “Whatever for is it necessary to choose someone to sacrifice at all?” I grumbled, pulling off my steel boot. My ankle was swollen as if I’d twisted it. That’s something I needed like a hole in the head!

  “I’m not authorized to discuss the decisions of the founders,” the old guy cut me off. “Use healing‒ with damage like this training is questionable.”

  “I don’t have healing,” I grumbled, but then, remembering what Dietrich had said when he selected a banner as his artifact, I added: “Can Paladins heal?”

  “Why not?” The old man was surprised. “Anyone can heal, even hunters or assassins. Healing is not even related to abilities. Don’t you know that?”

  I shook my head in response, and immediately sighed in relief: I was able to find a position in which my limb didn’t hurt. Perhaps to an onlooker it would appear funny, but the absence of burning pain was more important to me. The old man fell silent for a minute, thinking of something, then apparently decided that a brief overview of the players’ physiology would not exceed his level of authority.

  “From the standpoint of physiology players are not that different from NPCs. No 'life bars', 'health levels' and other bling. We are whole and indivisible. That’s why any player can heal if he has pills or potions in his inventory. Yes, those preparations have the same effect on players as on NPCs; healing a common cold with high level magic is silly and inefficient. The only class that has the ability for initial level magic healing is priests. But even they can’t heal other players‒ only themselves. I think I’ll repeat that: it’s only possible to heal other players magically if you use high level magic which is accessible only to highly specialized players if theirs is the right artifact. Everyone else is healed in the same way as NPCs: with medicine. The main difference between players and NPCs is in the personal or class resilience. Untrained people such as you, if they fall down from a height of three meters, twist their ankles, break ribs and generally feel quite uncomfortable. On the other hand, even an untrained vampire would not notice a small jump like this even if he were to drop down head first.”

  “So, if a player loses a leg it can’t be reattached?” I frowned. “It’s unlikely to grow back from chewing pills.”

  “You forget about respawn, during which the player’s body would be completely renewed. However, if someone would rather not lose a level, then yes, he’ll end up limping for the rest of his life. Remember Hephaestus. Anyway, you are talking about an extreme case when respawn would in fact be necessary. But in everyday practice all players’ ailments can be easily cured with the elves’ ointment. Elves have advanced far in healing that can practically bring both NPCs and players back from the dead Some even call it magic, even though in fact it’s just a well designed marketing campaign and use of the water of life. I’d thought you had a vial with you.”

  “From where?”

  “Well, you did get some food somewhere. Are you ready for training?”

  I moved my foot and the pain that seemed to have subdued returned with a vengeance. I had to shake my head, sighing heavily. It seemed I’d end up sitting here for a while…

  “It’s a pity… Ok, we’ll wait. We aren’t constrained for time.”

  “Perhaps we could talk on neutral topics to pass the time,” I ventured. “For example, I would like to know: do you live in the Academy all the time or only come here periodically in order to teach?”

  “How would we know then what’s going on in the outside world?” The old man grinned, accepting my offer of conversation. “Teaching is an obligation imposed by the Game, thatwe have to fulfill once per month. During the rest of the time we just lead our own lives. The only constraint is the appearance. By agreeing to teach we change and lose our original appearance forever. What you see is the projection of your understanding of what a mentor is supposed to look like‒ in other words, a creature that possesses knowledge; you are welcome to think of any other appropriate title. We look different to each race. The funny part is that if anyone at all were to believe that the wisest creatures were babies, to him we would in fact look like them. With pacifiers, in diapers, and broccoli puree on our faces. But at the subconscious level for some reason everyone believes that old people are the source of knowledge. As for wisdom, in fact a narrow specialized area of it, a sort of street smarts could be something that old people have. But knowledge… Doesn’t it occur to anyone that the physiology of all living creatures is such that the aging brain deteriorates and loses some of its functions? Old men don’t become more clever or wiser, they just become older. That’s why all long-lived players strive to keep their age at the threshold of physical aging; not everyone has the Book of Knowledge. By the way, that’s a very good choice for a Judge; combined with a good choice of abilities it will enable you to make more informed and balanced decisions.”

  “Speaking of Judges,” I latched onto the topic that bothered me. “Does the Game have some set of rules, after breaking which the player is considered a criminal? How does one understand, for example, that a player who killed another player is not a criminal, but an ardent representative of his class? How does the Game determine when it is necessary to open a case and when it’s not?”

  “There’s no rule,” the old man smiled. “That’s why it’s hard being a Judge. You are the prosecutor, the council and the judge at the same time. As soon as a Judge learns about some events that clash with his personal understanding of what is right, the Game will either generate the assignment itself, in case of past precedents, or propose that you initiate the case yourself. In case of the latter there’s significantly less time to deliver a correct verdict, but a successful verdict lands a much higher bonus. Based on his own understanding of what’s right and fair, the Judge delivers his verdict, which will then be approved or rejected by the Emperor. No one said that it’s easy to be a Judge, but the bonuses you receive outweigh all the drawbacks.

  “Bonuses for a successful verdict depend on what the judge needs at that given moment?” I showed off my brilliance by guessing. “I was afraid to die irrevocably, so I was granted initiation as a bonus?”

  “That’s right. Your chances of successful graduation from the Academy have increased,” the “old man” confirmed.

  “But later I received information that this initiation is fake. That it’s just an additional level that can also disappear.”

  “Not quite. Dolgunata — we are talking about the druid, correct? — is both right and wrong at the same time. It is true that as soon as you are dropped to level one the system will offer you a choice: either a final death in an initiated state, which would be stupid, or respawn with loss of initiation. In case of the latter, respawn time will increase from one hour to three, thus misleading your enemies regarding the finality of your death. Those waiting at the respawn point would leave, thinking that your death was final. Let’s make it clear though – this works only within the Academy. In the main world there wouldn't be a choice like that. The final death would be final.”

  “Let’s get back to verdicts and cases. Now the mages are engaging in total lawlessness; they kill other players, prevent them from learning... My very soul rebels against it, but I did not receive any suggestions that I should open a case. At the same time, as soon as the Paladins knocked me out there was a case generated right away. Where’s the catch?”

  “That within your heart you are certain that the mages are correct,” the old man surprised me, “while the Paladins’ action was out of line with your understanding of the core essence of the class. If you want to open a case against the mages, you’d have to believe that they are at fault, collect irrefutable proof and deli
ver the verdict. But you can’t do that because you understand: the mages aren’t doing anything that would go outside the overall framework of the Game. It’s unpleasant, it’s not nice, but it’s normal and common.”

  “The Chancellor doesn’t like it.”

  “There’re lots of things he doesn’t like, so that’s not a good indicator. For example, he’d prefer for us to always stay in the Academy, the way he does, but it doesn’t mean we should blindly fulfill his wishes. One needs to keep one’s own head about one's shoulders. Or heads, if we are talking about Derantians.”

  “So that means that you are ordinary players?” I was surprised. “Not minions or NPCs…”

  “That’s enough questions, you’ve upgraded your Book of Knowledge quite well,” the teacher cut me off. “Let me know when you’re ready for training.”

  It took me about ten hours to be able to step on my foot more or less painlessly. I’d never thought that the trite saying “time drags its feet” had a right to exist. I, as a true child of modern technology, was always short on time. Sometimes you’d sit down to play a computer game for ten minutes, and somehow lose half a day… Or you might decide, around eight o’clock at night, to watch a single episode of a new interesting show, and then at six o’clock in the morning, red-eyed, you suddenly realize that you have to get up in just one hour. And then that one hour of sleep was enough for you! Moreover, there was some time left to think about the actions of all the characters and your attitude towards all of that! It’s a pity this approach cannot be used when some part of you is hurting.

  “I’m ready!” I shouted happily as soon as my foot was able to fit into the steel boot. In addition, a short jog to the edge of the clearing and back did not cause me pain, just some minor discomfort which was easily bearable. For the time of my recuperation the teacher tuned out, completely ignoring my questions, so I was left to my own devices. For ten hours. By the way, I found out one more interesting thing: I didn’t feel sleepy in the Academy. Not at all. I spent about three hours with my eyes closed, diligently counting sheep, but to no avail. “So what about the attack abilities?”