The Destroying Plague

by Dan Sugralinov

  “Hey, you!” I came out of the shadows, equipping my knuckledusters as I emerged. “You should find someone your own size to pick on.”

  “Hah, here’s the third one, Carol!” The hobbit rubbed his hands in anticipation, then spread his arms, a cruelly curved dagger appearing in each hand. The ganker went into stealth and I heard out of thin air: “Lucky day for us, my girl…”

  With my senses almost fully switched off, I only realized that I was being attacked when I felt a series of strikes in my back. My imitation ability spewed out fountains of blood, my health fell almost to zero, but, to the rogue’s amazement, I didn’t die.

  Destroying Plague Immortality activated: 100% of all subsequent damage is absorbed, 2% is converted into plague energy and stored in a reservoir.

  “What the hell...?” the rogue said in wonder as he saw that his attacks weren’t dealing damage.

  I turned to him, marked him as a target and nerfed the bastard.

  Balancer activated: the selected target Moyzo, level 142 rogue, has been taken down to level 40.

  My fist, shrouded in its plate knuckleduster-glove, flew beneath the ganker’s arm and hit him in the nose, which literally exploded in a cloud of blood. The jagged barbs of the second Hammer in my Combo series hit him full in the cheekbone with the strength of a truck moving at full speed, and then a Stunning Kick followed.

  Unfortunately, the stun didn’t proc. The ganker grunted in surprise and breathed in sharply but didn’t try to retreat. Especially since his girlfriend hadn’t lost her cool and was already dropping her entire magic arsenal on me. He thrust a dagger dripping with poison into my neck; I jerked to the side from the force of it, managed to stay on my feet, and responded with a Hammer. The rogue took a step back, stunned and confused by what was happening, then dropped something at his feet and disappeared in a cloud of smoke. He had less than a third of his health left.

  “What’s wrong with this guy, Moyzo?” the fairy hissed and let loose a stream of filthy curses.

  I didn’t pay any attention to her yet, deciding to concentrate on the rogue while Balancer was still active. I stood in fire and clouds of smoke, but even through the distortion I could make out the attacking rogue’s smooth movements. He spread both his arms wide and brought them together to strike at a single point. The daggers pierced my chest, turned, and the rogue spread his hands again, breaking my ribs.

  “Die! Die! Die!” he screamed hysterically.

  His favorite move, Eviscerate, worked well — a wide hole glistened in my chest, revealing my mutilated heart, and it occurred to me that I must be pure mincemeat inside by now. The move pushed Moyzo off balance and he instinctively thrust out a hand to catch himself as he fell. When the rogue froze in that pose for a moment, I released a second Combo at him, knocking his teeth into his throat and crunching his skull.

  The entire fight with the rogue took five seconds, within the duration of the Balancer. I heard the fanfare of a level up, my health recovered, and Destroying Plague Immortality immediately disappeared. I jumped out of the fire, not letting it activate again. The next second, the fairy and I attacked each other at the same time; she with a Plasma Charge and me with an Explosive Arrow charged with plague energy.

  Immortality prevented me from dying, but the fairy had no such luck. Her lifeless body fell to the sand. I stood for a few seconds, resting with my hands on my knees, recovering from the heated battle. The adrenaline rushing through my blood had nowhere to go and demanded action.

  I wrote in the group chat, told Zoran to come back. In the meantime, I looted the gankers and found plenty of interest. Snowstorm had introduced balancing mechanics which meant that player killers were far more likely to lose gear on death. Even bags with one-hundred percent chance of preserving their contents didn’t protect them — Killer’s Curse kicked in, and the more victims the ganker killed, the more gear he dropped. There must have been a pile of corpses at the feet of these two, because it seemed like they dropped everything they had, equipped and unequipped alike.

  Going through the loot, I pulled out a few epics and put aside part of the gold. I decided to leave the rest for Zoran and Ehehe.

  The paladin returned and stopped a safe distance away, frowning and surveying the battlefield. He took a few uncertain steps toward me. The spare set of gear he’d equipped didn’t even have any rare items in it. It was all green.

  “The world is just, friend Zoran!” I shouted in mock celebration. “Wouldn’t you know it, a dragon flew in and finished off these two assholes!”

  “Don’t play dumb, Murphy,” he answered darkly. “You killed them, right? The town chat is going nuts. The gankers raised hell, they’re shouting about a Threat! Everyone is expecting the preventers to turn up! Who are you?”

  “That so? Hmm, alright. I’m not Murphy, in case you haven’t guessed. So, don’t get mad at your friend, he has nothing to do with this.”

  I activated Cloak Essence, turning into a smoky silhouette, and continued:

  “If you run into Ehehe, give him some of the loot from the gankers. I haven’t touched your gear or money. And… As for who I am, I’m a guy that just wanted to play for a day. It was nice to meet you, Zoran!”

  I summoned my mechostrich, mounted up and headed southeast.

  “Thank you!” I heard after a moment, the wind carrying the paladin’s belated words of gratitude.

  * * *

  My lessons flew by, because Mr. Kovac was absent, there was no replacement to be found for him and we were let go early.

  On the homeward journey, Ed and Hung told of their successes of the previous evening: they’d completed an instance designed for level thirty and had leveled up, and today they were planning to conquer a dungeon ten levels higher.

  “You know, this isn’t fair!” Malik claimed suddenly. “We’re undead too, where’s our Immortality?”

  “Heh,” Hung chuckled. “I’m a human too, like Horvac, but where’s my space yacht?”

  “As I was saying,” Ed cast a disapproving glance at Malik, “today we’re heading to a level forty dungeon. We shouldn’t have any trouble even without a healer, with Infect’s legendary horn and Crag by our side. What do you think, Alex?”

  “I think I’d feel easier if you had Tissa with you…”

  We decided that they’d farm this dungeon as long as they could, since they had no other routes laid. We didn’t need more anyway; if everything went to plan, they’d be joining me in the Lakharian Desert the next day.

  I’d almost put my foot in it the day before while running as fast as I could from the spot where I’d been found out. One of the scouts sent by the preventers saw me from the sky. I had to log out of the game.

  So, I didn’t know what to expect when I logged back into Dis. I appeared in the desert ready to use everything I had, but there was no need — this spot was too far from the frontier to set up twenty-four-hour surveillance. Considering the flight time and the powerful stacking debuffs of the desert, the preventers wouldn’t have had enough people.

  I rode my mechostrich for the next few hours, then continued on my own two feet. Yesterday I’d thought I could get to my destination in a couple of hours. Now I was laughing at my own naivete. It didn’t occur to me at all that the mechostrich might break down, unable to withstand the attacks of a massive basilisk. I didn’t think about the fact that my feet would get stuck in the sand, and I’d have to walk up and down high dunes. All that saved me was the movement speed bonus, which remained extremely high even with the racial penalty. I stubbornly moved toward my goal, the place of power where we could make a base.

  The rare vegetation I ran into the day before had disappeared. Now there was nothing but sand all around. Few had been able to get so far into the depths of the Lakharian Desert. I’d crossed the civilized strip of its edge yesterday, but today I’d made my way much further in. A tail of dozens of aggroed mobs followed behind me.

  Mist Harpies and Stinking Vultures dove at me, Plated Scorpi
ds burrowed out of the ground under my feet, and after them came Shai-khuludas, colossal sand worms bigger than an aerotrain. Tumbleweeds rolled across the ground, truly nightmarish creations — like huge balls of twine hiding innumerable tentacles and suckers seeping acid. Groups of elementals and twenty-foot-tall basilisks moved slower than the rest and from time to time fell back until I aggroed other similar mobs. Most impressive of all were the Hooked Mortens, reptiles that leaped like frogs with a pair of ten-feet-long hook-shaped growths on their backs.

  There was only a little left before I reached the place of power. I climbed another dune and froze, stunned by a howl that broke the sound barrier. The world slowed, sprays of sand flew at me and the howl turned into a lower sound, as if from a badly tuned trumpet. I stepped back, fell, and just in time too — a splayed hand with large, curved, hook-like claws flew just by my face, and a massive limb covered in chitinous shell passed above me. A little closer and I’d have been crushed and drowned in the sand. I somersaulted to the side and rolled down the dune, letting my momentum carry me to the bottom.

  Lifting myself up, I looked back. There was a battle raging at the top. There was a squat creature, just five feet tall and reminiscent of a stingray with its broad, flat body. Level 498 Hermit, beast, the interface said. Bristling, the beast hugged the ground and then jumped sharply, attacking an armored monster of monstrous size, a mix of a megalodon, turtle and armadillo. That turned out to be a boss: Sharkon, level 502 Underground Terror, beast, local boss.

  Striking with its legs a couple of times, the hermit jumped back. Its attack didn’t penetrate the boss’s armored face. The outcome of the battle was obvious — the boss would tear this upstart to pieces.

  In its habits, the hermit seemed like a cat. It backed off, hissed, growled angry, struck its spiny tail against the ground and tried to dig its nails into its enemy. Sharkon ignored his attacks, came closer, moved its head out of the path of jaws clicking like a mantrap, opened its own mouth and clamped its jaws down on the enemy’s body.

  Awkwardly digging sand with its limbs, the hermit began a hollow scream. His skin shined slightly in the weak moonlight, and his life dropped into the orange zone. Sharkon shook his head and opened his jaws. The hermit crashed into the ground, fell a few feet down the dune on its back, but then immediately stood up in a single imperceptible movement. Its broad jaw shone with rows of triangular shark’s teeth, almost the same as the boss’s, only smaller and sharper.

  Taking advantage of the fact that my train of mobs was only just reaching the foot of the dune, and the enemies at its peak hadn’t seen me yet, I ran up and touched both of them in turn. Plague Pestilence successfully infected both the hermit and the boss.

  The first mobs chasing behind me were reaching me by then. I took all my equipment off so that it wouldn’t get damaged in the upcoming bloodbath, then ate some Roast Undead Rat Chitterlings to make my skills level faster.

  The last thing I saw more or less clearly was a Hooked Morten preparing to jump at me. Preparing myself for the long nightmare ahead, I noticed its leg muscles clenching, and then I saw it firing toward me like a giant toad. I saw long triangular feet waving in the air, saw it extend its arms tipped with long claws. I waited until the very end, then infected the beast, dodged away from its lightning-fast strike and hit it with a Crushing Hammerfist. With surprise I saw the creature twist in the air, dodging the attack, then it froze and turned its face to me. Damn, quick reactions, I just had time to think before it all went south.

  Next came the usual hell that I’d first discovered in Gloomwood, then successfully survived in the Mire. My body was torn, ripped, broken, chewed, bitten, burned by fire and acid, pierced through… I felt no pain, which was the main change from my previous experience. The calculation was simple: level up Destroying Plague Immortality as high as possible until the timer activated at midnight to kick me out of Dis.

  Distantly, as if an observer, I checked for which weren’t yet infected and touched them with Plague Pestilence. I didn’t try to save any energy — it was recovering far quicker than I was spending it, so I used infected Combos everywhere, leveling up not only the series, but also the individual moves. The system reported nine out of ten hits as misses, but the insane level difference still sent my skill rocketing up. Even Stunning Kicks that I took lying down still hit targets. Game conditions.

  The logs showed six-figure numbers of damage taken and absorbed, and my plague reservoir recovered fully in mere seconds.

  Of course, I didn’t hope to kill anything, since the health of each mob exceeded twenty million, and the fat boss had a lot more, not to mention his defense characteristics.

  By that time, Sharkon had defeated the infected hermit and switched to the other uninvited guests. And the system gave me a choice:

  Infected level 498 Hermit has died and turned into an undead.

  Bend the creature to your will? If you decline, the creature will act independently.

  This time there was no option to preserve the creature’s mind — it seems that only happened in cases when there was something to preserve. I accepted the suggestion — it was dumb to refuse a subject minion at such a high level.

  In the meantime, Sharkon was drawing the ire of more and more of the still living mobs, and that bothered me — the more damage I took, the faster my ability leveled up, and I didn’t like the idea of running again to pick up more mobs… Although the boss itself would stay anyway, right? Consoling myself with that thought, I continued entertaining myself.

  I sent a raised Zombie Hermit off to the side before he aggroed anyone. I wasn’t planning on losing such a powerful mob for no reason. All the other infected mobs that had died and reanimated went in the same direction. I didn’t have enough fingers to count the variety of their species.

  Apparently, their high level didn’t just influence the growth of Plague Pestilence, which had reached level three, but also Plague Reanimation which activated when they became my subjects — the ability to raise minions had leveled up twice, extending the cap and increasing the size of my zombie army.

  Plague Reanimation ability leveled up: +1. Current level: 4.

  There is no death in service to the Destroying Plague! You can breathe unlife into the dead. Reanimated skeletons and zombies will join the Destroying Plague and serve the Legate.

  Chance of saving skills and combat abilities possessed in life: 4%.

  Limitations: up to 40 servants at the current ability level.

  Cost to use: 1000 Plague Energy plus 1000 per day to maintain reanimation.

  My first zombie of the day, the Hermit, a nightmarish mix of cat, stingray and weasel, turned out lucky; it kept its skills. This good news was a rare glimmer of positive emotions. All the rest, on the other hand…

  The dead magic of the Destroying Plague never let the creatures finally grind me into powder or tear my head from my body, no matter how they tried. It calmed me to repeat my tried and tested mantra that this was just virtual reality streaming into my brain, that my body was nestled in safe intra-gel, and the slowly but surely increasing progress bars of my skills, which I kept my eyes glued to, gave some meaning to the madness. My unarmed combat skills reached the limit; level one hundred, after which I tried to shoot with my bow with the same goal, but I couldn’t draw it in the mass of mobs.

  When there were only four mobs left, along with a thoroughly beaten boss leaking orange blood, Destroying Plague Immortality reached level nine, and my plague reservoir was almost full.

  Destroying Plague Immortality leveled up: +1. Current level: 10.

  If you are the only representative of the Destroying Plague in an area, then when you take lethal damage, you will be given temporary immortality: 100% of all subsequent damage is absorbed, 10% is converted into plague energy and stored in a reservoir.

  The effect lasts until your health is fully recovered.

  Plague reservoir volume increased: +100,000.

  Current volume: 1,000,000.


  Unlocked ability: Plague Fury!

  Plague Fury

  Level 1 active ability.

  You can explode in fury, burning up all your accumulated plague energy and releasing it in a thirty-foot radius around you. All enemies within the area of effect will take full damage amounting to double the plague energy burnt.

  10% chance that a killed opponent will turn into an undead and become your minion.

  Threat rank increased! Current class: K.

  A new ability? And so awesome that it increased my Threat status? Perfect timing, I thought and picked myself up slowly. Nobody was attacking me anymore — the boss was taking aggro from the monsters left alive. There was over an hour left until midnight, and I might even be able to make it to the place of power.

  All the infected and raised undead gathered behind the next dune and moved in at my call. The minions didn’t move as quickly as they had in life, but still far faster than ordinary zombies. Their stats seemed to depend on their original stats.