There were hundreds if not thousands of gods in Disgardium. It seemed Snowstorm tried to satisfy all cultures by adding entire pantheons of all kinds of gods to the game. But what principle did they use to divide them? Why were Fortune of Ancient Rome and Zeus of Ancient Greece considered Old Gods, while the Sumerian Nergal and Marduk were New? And how was it that Nergal was a god of light? For the Sumerians, he had been the ruler of the underworld and god of death and war. Sure, he was supposed to also be the incarnation of the devastating power of the burning sun, but that wasn’t his main feature.
While pondering this, I headed to Kharinza.
The fort upgrade was in full swing, the dwarfs working together skilfully and smoothly. All the buildings and Trixie’s gardens were gone, but Raidohelm the dwarf foreman assured me that nothing had been lost, this was a temporary measure.
The Sleeping God wasn’t in the temple, around which the walls of the future castle were already forming.
“Behemoth! We need to talk!” I shouted.
No answer. I waited at the altar, then decided not to waste any more time and turned to the exit, but then the Sleeping God appeared. His avatar flickered and his voice resounded only in my head:
“Speak quickly, Herald. It takes all my energy to keep the Plague Vector in the cave on Kharinza at bay. You should have cleared it! The Nucleus probes the block unceasingly, aiming to restore its connection.”
I should have, huh..? I thought. You could have given me a quest! Behemoth heard my thoughts and his voice turned mocking:
“Liken yourself not to that mass of the undying who will not lift a finger but for reward and by direction. Think for yourself! And now, tell me, why did you come here?”
“How can I survive on Holdest? The frost kills me. Even with Concentrated Life Essence, I won’t reach the Nucleus.”
“You have some idea…” The Sleeping God’s avatar fully appeared and his furious roar echoed through the temple: “You place your hopes in your balancing artifact, fool? Some Herald the universe has sent me! Little boy!”
“The hell with you!” I snapped. “Some God you are, always just making demands! What do I get in exchange?”
“Do not anger your god…” Behemoth sighed tiredly. “And enough wasting my time and energy. I do not know how to help you on Holdest. But I can tell you who to ask: your friend, the one who loves to play with lines of probability. She knew blind Hodr, Old God of Winter. She may know something. But first, go and destroy the Plague Vector in the cave!”
Without another word, the Sleeping God disappeared.
Fortune, then. I couldn’t go visit the goddess of luck empty-handed, and that meant I had to gather Serendipity. But where..? Blowing up defenseless casuals with Sleeping Vindication in the center of Darant was against my principles, so it was time to visit a castle belonging to someone in the Alliance. Modus, for example. Their main castle, if Crawler’s intel could be believed, was near the Lake District, which I could reach with Depths Teleportation. It would be a short flight from there.
But first I needed to clear the dungeon with the Plague Vector. Good thing it wouldn’t take much time.
Hey folks, anyone want a First Kill in the instance on Kharinza? I wrote to the officer chat. I’ll be waiting at the Sleepers’ temple.
Next I messaged the Yoruba leader: Yemi, how’s it going? Dealt with those ‘hyena cubs’? I’m going to capture Modus’s main castle. You coming?
Pecheneg got a similar message: We’re attacking Hinterleaf’s main castle tonight. You in? I wrote to him directly, without going through Piper.
My ‘people’ gathered almost right away. Trixie joined us in place of busy Gyula.
“He made us bring him,” Irita whispered to me guiltily.
In our usual party, with the addition of Trixie, we saddled our mounts and headed for the Klondike mine, in the bowels of which was the instance we sought. Infect took the lead, cutting a gallant figure on the red bear he got for his birthday.
“Trixie kill!” the level 1 midget shouted, sitting behind Bomber and shaking his fist.
By the time we’d almost reached the portal to the dungeon, Yemi and Pecheneg had both answered me.
The mage told me that he would sooner feed himself to Apophis than turn down a chance to teach a lesson to ‘those arrogant elitists’.
Pecheneg’s answer, on the other hand, was strange: Don’t even think about it! We have to meet right away! At once!
I read his answer out to my friends. Crawler shrugged:
“Well, go see him, find out what’s so urgent. We’ll clear the trash in the meantime.”
Nodding, I activated Depths Teleportation to the Taipan castle, which my status as ‘clan friend’ allowed me to do.
Pecheneg was waiting for me. We greeted each other, then I heard the unmistakable clap of a teleport nearby. I turned, looked, prepared to fight: it was Hinterleaf, making a personal appearance.
“Hello, Scyth,” he said. “I think it’s time you heard the truth.”
Chapter 9. The Secret of Otto Hinterleaf
IT WAS FINE to be disappointed in people, Uncle Nick used to say. It was worse when you kept talking to them afterwards. With twenty billion people in the world, it made no sense to stick with someone who betrayed you — better to just drop them.
I decided to do exactly that with Pecheneg as soon as I saw Hinterleaf, but the situation was an odd one — I wanted to figure it out. Especially since the Modus leader looked peaceful enough — he wasn’t even trying to approach, just standing where he’d appeared, studying me curiously.
“Wow, Scyth. You’re human again!” he exclaimed. “This isn’t an illusion?”
I wasn’t about to answer. I just cast a measuring glance at him and looked a question at Pecheneg. The huge barbarian in full gear raised his hands in a gesture of calm and said quickly:
“Alex, this isn’t what you think! Nobody is here to threaten you!”
I looked around slowly to confirm the Taipan leader’s words. The castle yard wasn’t exploding with a slew of opening portals; no clan warriors rushed out to attack. He’d even pulled the guards from the fortress walls. A slight rain had begun to fall, making Pecheneg turn his face to the sky and close his eyes in pleasure.
“How do you know what I’m thinking, Sergei? Or was your name a lie too?”
“You’ll get all your answers, Scyth,” Hinterleaf said. “But first, we have to go somewhere more…”
The gnome was still smiling when I flew straight at him and grabbed him by the wrist. The next second, I did the same with Pecheneg and then shot out beyond the castle walls as fast as a bullet. A defensive bubble surrounded Hinterleaf, but that was all — neither man protested. The mage didn’t even try to escape with Blink. Maybe we wouldn’t have to fight, and could stick to just words.
Overcoming the urge to drop them from a deadly height, I descended over a grassy ravine and unceremoniously let them go, keeping myself in the air. The leaders of Taipan and Modus went tumbling down to the bottom of the ravine, groaning with age and losing health. I summoned Sharkon, landed on the edge and sat down cross-legged. The earth sagged beneath the Underground Terror’s immense weight.
Sit, Sharkon. Defend,” I ordered my pet. Then I turned to the old men, although big Pecheneg the barbarian didn’t look it. “Now I need answers.”
“A healthy… beast!” Hinterleaf said, looking at Sharkon in glee. “And living too, I see. And yet… Oh, the youth! Rude and straight to business… No respect for seniority.”
The gnome stood and cast Blink, teleporting beside me.
“Easier to talk without craning our necks, right, Scyth?”
Pecheneg had to climb out himself. The gnome watched him with a smile.
“Before you start asking questions, let me tell you the story of a great hoax. Those few who know the truth are bound by both mental contract and Arbiter oath. I am in no position to demand the same from you, but a simple promise will suffice. Would you indulge
an old man his whims, young Sheppard?”
“You aren’t the first to play that card, Mr. Hinterleaf. Yeah, I’m still a teenager, and when you call me young, it’s like you’re belittling me or my ability to think.”
“Oh, Alex, I speak only of life experience,” he sighed. “You can’t level that up any faster, no matter how you try. Lived years aren’t always an advantage. Old errors and knowledge often limit our view, keeping us from seeing things from a fresh perspective. But in all times, one thing has remained unchanged: the ability to keep your word says more about you than anything else. In my day, it was said of such people that their word was stronger than oak. This capital cannot be multiplied, only preserved. Now…”
Hinterleaf fell silent, but Pecheneg finished climbing up to us and continued:
“Now no word is worth more than the value gained from breaking it. People have forgotten honor and decency. All can be bought and sold. But he can be trusted,” he said, nodding at the gnome.
Then Hinterleaf turned to Pecheneg and said something very strange indeed:
“That’s rich coming from you, Otto.”
Pecheneg chuckled and Hinterleaf looked at me again. The little gnome’s eyes were serious:
“Now promise me that you won’t tell anyone what you learn about me, Scyth. I do not demand, I ask.”
“You want an Arbiter?”
“That is not necessary. I have studied you enough to trust your word.”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone what I learn of you.”
The gray-haired gnome nodded in satisfaction:
“Then listen. Otto Hinterleaf, as the whole world knows him, does not exist…”
From his story, interrupted with unrelated tangents and recollections from Pecheneg, I learned that Otto Hinterleaf was one person with two faces.
A Russian oligarch named Sergei really did found Modus and move all his assets to Dis. Except that his surname wasn’t Polotsky, but he had never claimed it was real. Sergei created an account with the game nick ‘Pecheneg’ and founded the clan Modus, but he practically never played himself; he was busy with real-life business. His aide Otto Hinterleaf dealt with the Dis side of things, controlling a mage with the same name.
A couple of years later, when Sergei moved all his assets to the clan account, Otto thought he could do without his former boss and kicked Pecheneg from Modus. I’d already heard this part of the story, but what happened afterwards was a far cry from what I was told at Distival by the man who called himself Polotsky.
Otto may have achieved superiority in the game, but in real life, he was still the same old careful, easily frightened fat man. He was far from Sergei’s level of influence, and naturally, the oligarch didn’t stand on ceremony with his former aide. Sergei didn’t even have to get his criminal connections involved, although they were what Otto feared most. Once Otto was surrounded on all sides, he himself regretted what he had done. Especially since returning everything would be no simple matter. The procedure for changing the leader of a clan that possessed billions of gold would have raised questions from all sides: the game community, Snowstorm, the financial services, the security agencies.
“Imagine that the leader of the UN suddenly invited in a man off the street who had already been kicked out of the organization, and declared. ‘He’s the boss now. I’m leaving’,” Hinterleaf told me. “Nonsense!”
“So what did you do?”
“Otto gave me his account. Don’t look so shocked; at the dawn of Dis, Snowstorm still allowed that sort of thing. Then the machinations began, and the commercial character leveling market flourished, so the practice was banned. That happened in the third year of the game, but, fortunately for Otto, that was after the illusion mage Hinterleaf was transferred to my control,” Hinterleaf, who was apparently Pecheneg, finished his story.
“And I got the barbarian,” added Pecheneg, controlled by Otto. “We planned to get rid of the character, but I managed to… let’s say, achieve an unusual status. Corrupted Adamantite, remember, Scyth? So we decided to keep Pecheneg and build a new compact and closed clan around him. My family formed its core.”
“This is pretty confusing,” I said, scratching my head and trying to parse it all. “But… Who did I meet in Dubai? Which one of you spoke to me in Polotsky’s office? And who was the Hinterleaf who showed up with the other Alliance leaders at Distival? The one who refused to take me into Modus?”
“Sergei doesn’t like publicity,” Pecheneg-Otto answered. “We decided not to change anything in real life. Everyone still thinks the Hinterleaf character is me. To all of them, Otto Hinterleaf is the leader of Modus. I was the one who refused you, but at Sergei’s order.”
“Piper brought you to me,” Hinterleaf-Sergei said. “Back then, in Dubai, you spoke to me unaware that I was the true leader of Modus. Naturally, Otto later familiarized himself with a recording of the conversation, so as not to slip up when he met you in Dis.”
“So all your so-called intel, the analysis you spoke of…” I stopped, realizing I was asking the obvious. “Blackberry’s ‘betrayal’ was scripted too?”
“Of course,” Hinterleaf easily admitted. “I came up with the operation personally. I admit, I wanted to destroy you, but I kept in mind all the time that this partnership would give me and the clan far more than a few artifacts taken from the Treasury.”
“Like with Crag?”
“Great example!” the gnome gleamed. “After the destruction of the temple in the desert, we planned to end our collaboration, but I managed to convince the boy to work a little longer. To strengthen Mogwai and his crew…”
He muttered the final words, darkening. But then shook himself and continued:
“We’ll save that subject for the end of our conversation. Blackberry, ‘banished’ from Modus, was supposed to insinuate herself into your trust and join the Awoken by any means necessary. That plan B, was, of course, our long game in case plan A failed. We planned to eliminate you way back on the first day of Nergal’s Summons!”
“Well, sorry to disappoint.”
“Then you ruined our relationship with the Goblin League by taking control of me. Still later, Eileen imprisoned you. Everyone knew whose tune she was dancing to. Relations with the Children of Kratos were strained. Friction began in the Alliance, and gone was the prior hint of mutual trust. In principle, there is only one clan left there that I am certain of — the Travelers, Horvac’s clan. We had a whole range of surprises stored up for you for the battle at the temple…”
“Like Conjoining of Souls?” I interrupted, meeting Hinterleaf’s eyes unflinchingly.
The gnome’s eyes narrowed, his questioning gaze burning into me. He looked at Pecheneg, who shook his head.
“Did you really manage to make a deal with Yary?” Hinterleaf asked, turning back to me. “Nobody else knows about the artifact.”
I was already cursing my flapping tongue; I’d seen the Conjoining of Souls in an alternate future that never happened, seen through Divine Revelation, but the question demanded an answer.
“I never kiss and tell. But no, I have my own sources, related to…” I pointed upwards. “To my protectors. Anyway, all this is a lot of fun, and thank you for sharing, but those same protectors have given me a bunch of work to do. If you think I believe you and will cancel my attack on the Modus castle, you’re mistaken. But even if your whole story is true, I don’t see why I should change my decision.”
“What do you need?” Hinterleaf asked. “Speak plainly. Not the castle itself, I think. More likely whatever you think is kept in it. Money? Modus isn’t the only clan with a castle that fits that bill. There are easier targets. In any case, I’m sure you’re rich enough, Scyth. What do you need? I swear, if it’s within my power, I’ll give it to you.”
“Will you swear that to an Arbiter?”
Without answering, Hinterleaf summoned an Eye. Both he and Pecheneg uttered the words of the oath. The Arbiter accepted it, threatened Celestial Arbitra
tion if the oath was broken, and disappeared.
The gnome suddenly jumped up, his hands glowing with golden light. Before I could react, he launched a stream of fiery sparks. Turning, I saw that a band of viking bandits had approached us. The sparks killed the level 200 mobs instantly. In the meantime, Sharkon devoured another group on the other side of the ravine.
“I need Concentrated Life Essence,” I revealed once the gnome returned to his place next to me.
“You’re planning to fight the Destroying Plague, aren’t you?!” Hinterleaf clapped his fist into his right hand, his eyes burning. “Right? That’s why you need the essence? You don’t have to answer, I get it. But if I’m right, that’s all the more reason for us to be partners!”
Path of Spirit (Disgardium Book #6): LitRPG Series Page 11