The Destroying Plague

by Dan Sugralinov

  [18:10] [Clan] [Crawler]: What’s going on over there? Bomb and I are ready to jump to the fort!

  [18:11] [Clan] [Scyth]: Don’t even think about it. If I fail, we’ll need you in Darant.

  Forcing my way through the undergrowth, I jumped out onto a rocky open space. The mountains towered above me; their northern cliffs lapped by the waters of the Bottomless Ocean. The dinosaur stood at the entrance to the mine with its tail to me, looking inside the mine. Too used to its evening meal, that overgrown lizard!

  A huge hundred-foot hulk, blue-black in color, with an undetermined level and sixty million health — let’s see how the lich would stand up to this.

  I looked to the side — about sixty feet away were the rocky elevations that I’d used to hide from the Montosaurus before. The ore in this spot broke through the surface, and it was there that we’d gotten our first resources for building the temple. Taking a few paces toward the beast, I estimated the distance, stopped and looked around. The undergrowth rustled. The Montosaurus turned its head, let out an earthshaking roar and began to trample its way toward me.

  I mentally counted to three and threw myself along the undergrowth to the shelter of the crevasse. The Montosaurus snapped its jaws only inches from my back when five Bone Hounds leapt on it from out of the bushes. Naturally, I didn’t see it — I was running as fast as I could to jump into the crevasse before the dinosaur used Icy Roar.

  I fell into it just as the Montosaurus sounded out its earsplitting roar. My muscles immediately froze, and my body stopped obeying me under the influence of a Terror debuff. I could still hear everything: a crack, a dull thud, a crackle — and the bone shards of one of the hounds flew by above me. Several red marks disappeared on the minimap, with just one large one remaining — the Montosaurus.

  My Terror debuff ended and I dared to take a look outside. The dinosaur was chewing the bones left from the hounds. The map showed that four Plague Vectors were approaching it. Those didn’t take physical damage.

  I heard the Montosaurus’s noisy breath. It stretched its head toward the forest and froze, listening to something. The black dots of the Plague Vectors emerged from the undergrowth and the dinosaur emitted a throaty rumbling sound like a cough. Then, fire!

  A stream of bright white napalm streamed across the ground, pouring over the newly arrived enemies. A moment later, they died. Within thirty seconds, the lich boss had lost all his Bone Hounds and Plague Vectors!

  Next from the woods came a Sickening Rotter and a Foul Quease. Paying no attention to the dinosaur, both of them walked efficiently toward me. As if not believing its luck, the Montosaurus froze, cocked its head and assessed the quantity of food in front it, then caught up to both of them in one step.

  Crushing the rotter underfoot, it grabbed the quease in its huge maw and swallowed it whole, growling deeply. Then, holding the rotter in its claws, it tore off its upper section, snorted in surprise and spat it out. It coughed again, rubbed its face with its arm — maybe it didn’t like the taste of the slime — and sprayed out a string of flame. Nothing but a smoking crater remained of the queaser, and the Montosaurus itself sharply moved from its spot and trampled away toward the ocean, the ground shaking in its wake.

  Another couple of minutes passed while I chewed through what I’d seen and accepted that plan A had failed, and plan B would need at least a little calm time. Then the first skeletons and zombies began to emerge from the forest.

  * * *

  Even at such a hopeless moment, I unwillingly thought of leveling up. Stealth was useless against such high-level enemies, but I still switched it on. Even a split second of not being seen by undead over level two hundred played its role:

  Stealth level increased: +4! Current level: 71.

  Chance to remain unnoticed to enemies increased to 71%.

  Immediately after the notification, the first skeleton that shambled out onto the rocky ground saw me and moved to intercept, its bones rattling. The magic that prevented it from decaying weaved its way in a fine, barely noticeable stream through the air into the depths of the jungle, like a thread leading to the puppetmaster.

  Stealth check failed! Seen by Skeleton Warrior!

  With my speed, the skeletons and zombies shouldn’t have been a problem. Without waiting for these guests, I left the gorge that had now saved me twice and ran away, cutting a path through to the fort. I’d reunite with Crag, and if Behemoth’s defensive barrier was still active, I could rest and do something else to save us.

  I had two real ideas in my head and one suicidal one. The first required money, lots of money, Crawler and Bomber in Darant, and… luck. A lot of luck. The suicidal idea was to ask for help from Yary, one of the Modus leaders. A most foolish thought, but it was a way of choosing a lesser evil and dying another day. I wanted to leave that crazy option as a last resort.

  As I ran, I mentally wrote a message in the chat:

  [18:24] [Clan] [Scyth]: Crawler, Bomb, I need you in Darant. Now! Also: does clan mail work instantly? How long does it take for items to deliver?

  [18:24] [Clan] [Crawler]: Understood. We’re jumping to Darant. Mail is almost instant for a level 10 clan. Ours delivers gear in 30 minutes.

  [18:25] [Clan] [Scyth]: That’ll do. Here’s what I need: I’m going to send you some unidentified artifacts, I need you to identify them at the University of Magic. Bomb, you need to get to the mercenary guild and find out what’s what there. A special condition: we only want max level NPCs.

  The mercenary guild was famous for its soldiers of fortune keeping their mouths shut. Everything they learned during their missions stayed between them and their clients. The reason for that wasn’t just the astronomical penalties and the guild’s flawless reputation from its business on all three inhabited continents. There were also certain divine oaths involved. The guild’s mercenaries couldn’t break their silence even if they wanted to. But I believed that player mercenaries weren’t bound by their oaths outside Disgardium, so I decided it was better to hire locals. Those would keep their mouths shut even if you hired them to depose King Bastian the First.

  I sent Crawler the Balancer, Elemental Concentration and Thunderbearer as the most suitable for this situation judging by their names. I doubted that the slotless artifacts Isis’ Blessing or Ebis’ Inspiration could help in battle, but I sent them too. The rest of what I hadn’t gone through from the treasury, not counting the ‘dummies,’ was various kinds of class legendaries or high-ranked epics unsuitable to any of us and requiring no identification. Apart from that, I put one million gold into the mail, leaving myself only three hundred thousand and change.

  The clan treasury remained untouched: betting it all, frivolously hoping to make it back in the short term and depriving myself of the chance to study in university was idiotic. I doubted we’d meet another Threat to get us rich so quick again.

  [18:26] [Clan] [Crawler]: We’re in Darant. Let’s do it. Hold on there.

  Somewhere in the distance, I heard the trample of the Montosaurus. I listened hopefully, thinking about whether it was worth dragging the chain of enemies back to the monster, but decided not to risk it. It could tear me to shreds with the same success, and if it did then neither artifacts nor mercenaries would help me. It was a good thing that there was only one supermob on Kharinza. If there were normal ones here, I doubted we’d be able to set up our base and mine ore so easily. Their level would probably be much higher than ours.

  I didn’t run full-pelt to the fort, instead trying to buy time. I led the chain of mobs in zigzags, periodically activating Stealth and leveling it up by eleven points in total. The most important thing was not to fall prey to arrows from the Skeleton Archers and to keep at least fifty feet away. They didn’t fire over that distance for some reason. Bomber let me know in the clan chat that my package had reached its target.

  [19:01] [Clan] [Bomber]: You didn’t tell us you were a millionaire, Scyth! We split the cash.

  As I ran through the forest, I awa
ited news from the boys and hoped Behemoth was getting a breather. While there were no enemies, the Sleeping God was saving his energy for the protective barrier and spending his strength only on neutralizing the Infection.

  But Crawler and Bomber needed time to get to the required places. Darant was huge, its streets winding and filled with people. At least the University of Magic and the Guild of Mercenaries was in the center.

  I ran through the jungle, exchanging messages with Crag, gaining ground on the mobs, going into Stealth, then taking to my heels again when they detected me. The lich was silent when he lost me from view but spat his threats again as soon as his minions found me. The initial shock of the death of the guardians had passed, along with my sense of hopelessness — we had a plan, and we followed it.

  When I tore away from the dead chain once again and laid down in a small ravine, Hung contacted me again.

  [19:11] [Clan] [Bomber]: Alright, I’m at the guild of mercenaries. It’s more complex than we thought — turns out not just anyone can walk in and use their services. The whole range is available only to people who have a high reputation with them. You also have to sign a basic contract, either on behalf of a clan or personally. I think it’d be better to sign it on behalf of the Awoken, the clan’s reputation with the guild will affect everyone. I need more authority, Scyth.

  Opening the clan management page, I gave Bomber the right to sign contracts on behalf of the clan, and a couple of minutes later he gave me the low-down:

  [19:14] [Clan] [Bomber]: Alright, we can’t hire soldiers for inter-clan warfare, for eliminating hostile players, for… Long story short, we can basically only hire locals and only against hostile mobs. I think the Destroying Plague and his guys match those conditions, right, Scyth? The maximum available levels for hiring right now are: 360-370. The cost: 50,000 per soldier per hour. Hmm… And another condition: if the enemy’s level exceeds the level of the mercenaries, the minimum number of troops you can hire is a battle star, five intelligent creatures. What level is that lich?

  Quarter of a million gold for a star per hour? That was a year of university! That kind of money could buy a premium-class flyer! I whistled.

  The lich immediately replied with a piercing whisper.

  “The worms will eat you from within, traitor!”

  “They’ve already eaten you!” I couldn’t resist shouting in response. “Corpse!”

  Crag answered Bomber in my place, indicating the boss’s level. Tobias also entered the discussion, but mostly to drop dumb jokes and generally fail to take the situation seriously. It seemed he was getting bored among the adepts praying to the Sleeping God in the temple. Having learned the lich’s level, Bomber was silent for a couple of minutes, then wrote:

  [19:17] [Clan] [Bomber]: So how many mercenaries are we taking? The minimum is a star given the boss’s level. We have enough for two. If we need more, I’ll need Crawler’s money.

  Would a single squad be enough? Theoretically, with Crag’s buff, it should be. Even if the lich took control of one of the mercenaries, the mobs were still at level two hundred. We could hire two stars to make it a sure thing. An hour should be enough to grind the lich and his dead minions to powder. But a quarter of a million into the wind? If we profited from selling the artifacts even after identifying them, then the mercenaries… In our case we wouldn’t even get experience for the undead, let alone loot.

  [19:18] [Clan] [Crawler]: Our reputation with the University of Magic is zero. I planned to study there, but at first, I had no money, then there were other things on my mind. The cost for us to identify one artifact is 450 tons of gold, Scyth. That means there’s only enough for one artifact. Decide which. You know better what you guys need there.

  I froze, shocked by the cost of simply identifying an artifact. You could buy a top-range legendary for money like that! No wonder the Darant University of Magic was flourishing.

  Behind me, thirty feet away, the approaching zombies groaned. I set off into a run again, jumping over weeds and strange red vines hanging from tree to tree, and remembered something Nega had said about a certain balancing spell. Then I weighed all the pros and cons of hiring two stars of mercenaries. Then I ran through the names of the artifacts in my head again but basing my decision on names only would be foolish. How could you understand based on the name ‘Mark of the Destroying Plague’ that it was one of the most imba things in the game? My only hope left was that Fortuna would help me.

  [19:20] [Clan] [Scyth]: Crawler, identify the Balancer. Let’s see what it is. If we’re out of luck, then we’ll hire two stars.

  For the next five minutes, probably while one of the university mages was identifying the artifact, I felt terribly anxious. My vigor was in the red zone, and I felt a crushing tiredness descend on me again. Two days on my feet without so much as a nap, and now a lich with an undead army at my heels. The boss’s brains must have completely rotted away, since he was repeating the same thing to me over and over like a wind-up toy.

  But my wait was worth it.

  Crawler’s next message filled me with hope.

  [19:25] [Clan] [Crawler]: Jackpot, Scyth! Check out the description!

  The item’s name burned red — it was divine quality!

  Balancer

  Divine

  Bracelet.

  On activation: on damage, balances the target with the attacker for 5 seconds.

  Cooldown: 24 hours.

  Chance of loss after death lowered by 100%.

  I gasped when I saw the imba bracelet that was now in my treasury. Just one star would be enough with such a Balancer. Sure, the lich was strong, extremely powerful, but what could he do against a harmonious team of five professional mercenaries almost equal to him in level? Especially strengthened by Crag’s talent? And with the Balancer?

  Exactly. Nothing at all.

  * * *

  The sun was almost hidden behind the treetops. The downpour never did happen. A thick veil of moisture hung in the air.

  Crag and I stood at the temple, watching the undead rampaging below, beyond the shield. The lich Shazz, his arms outstretched, seemed to be channeling all the strength of the Destroying Plague to try and destroy Behemoth’s shield. Muddy, gray-green flows of plague energy streamed into the barrier. Three dozen zombies and skeletons added their damage to the already buckling shield at the same time.

  “When you were hanging out with these guys…” Crag nodded at the dead, “were you the same?

  I found the most decayed zombie and pointed at it.

  “Sometimes I looked like that. Or even worse. It all depended on how long I’d had the undead curse.

  Having seen what was happening, Crag and I went back into the temple. Someone was piling the bodies of the dead guardians by a far column. Maybe Behemoth had ordered them brought to the temple, or maybe it was at the workers’ own initiative.

  While I ran, the god’s avatar hunched, faded and dwindled — the Sleeping God was flickering, unable to hold back my Infection and maintain the barrier and his avatar at the same time. Fortunately, there wasn’t much longer to wait. Crawler had almost met up with Bomber, who had hired a battle star of mercenaries.

  I approached Behemoth and spoke to him.

  “My friends… Flaygray, Nega, Ripta and Anf… Are they gone for good?”

  The god’s avatar did not speak, but I heard his voice in my head: Tiamat can bring them back. They did not become true followers of the Sleeping Gods, but they believed with all their heart. Their battle is not over.

  Sighing in relief, I decided to help Behemoth with my presence for at least a few minutes until the reinforcements arrived. I sat in lotus position and thought: How do I pray? Behemoth answered that the words didn’t matter; only faith in the Sleeping Gods mattered. Patrick was sitting nearby and looked almost asleep, but his lips were moving soundlessly. Maybe he was praying, or maybe he was just dreaming of drinking some tasty elvish wine. In any case, Patrick was no example for me.

 
; I turned my head and listened to the murmuring of Aunt Stephanie.

  “We seek your protection, Sleepers. Scorn not our prayers in our grief but keep us from all danger forevermore. Just and terrible Behemoth, lifegiving mother of all Tiamat, fierce Kingu, ruler of the ocean Abzu and the mighty Leviathan! Patrons and creators of our world may your sleep be eternal, and may you never awaken!

  The words didn’t matter; the faith mattered. Did I believe in the existence of the Sleeping Gods? Hell, yes, I did. Just as I believed in their might and that all Disgardium was the product of their dreams given material shape. And may their sleep be eternal…

  So, I sat and lost track of time, not even noticing myself begin to whisper unconsciously. I felt my thoughts incarnating as faith. It melded in with the flow from all the adepts, streaming to the altar, and from there to Behemoth in interwoven strands of invisible energy. There was something mystical in it, without the usual logs and system notifications that accompanied actions and steps — the digital gods of the virtual world demanded no words or rituals; only true faith.