The Quest (Dark Paladin Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Straight ammo! Fire!” Miltay ordered. Three fighters brought up their weapons and the “hammers” were silenced by a sound similar to stones sinking into the water. All three machine guns had silencers. I pursed my lips, looked at my AK, and put it back on the shelf until better days: during my preparation for the Dungeon it had not occurred to me that the echo of the shots would attract all the monsters in the level.

  The shooting had completely no effect. As I had seen with Devir, the bullets ricocheted in different directions, deflected by the force field appearing in front of the crabs. Tired of struggling with the space slower, the nearest monster spat heartily, wishing to get rid of the intruders at once. The force dome started pulsing: a black splotch was rolling down it slowly.

  “That eats up Energy pretty fast! Rast reacted immediately, looking at the data on his PDA screen. “Avoid spits!”

  “Yari! Net!” Miltay’s next order was addressed to me. Bringing up the net launcher and assessing the distance, I took a shot and immediately activated the detonator. Months of training really did help: two crabs were caught. Their claws started moving immediately, but the monsters were too slow. Five short seconds later Alveona was perceptibly shaken. I integrated into each net two hundred scrolls with the Templar’s Blow, so the outcome of the explosion was expected: the force field around the crabs did evaporate. So did the crabs themselves: their pieces were rolling down our dome in black bits. The Dungeon inhabitants tried to get rid of the intruders even after death.

  “Don’t do that!” Rast hissed, madly typing something on his pilot. The coils reacted, changing connections in a complex pattern, and the field around us compacted by a meter, forcing us to crowd tighter. “The field will not withstand another explosion if it doesn’t come back fully before it!”

  “Let’s finish off this critter,” Miltay’s reaction was instantaneous. The explosion affected not only us, but the third crab as well; it was madly rotating in place, clawing at its own bubbling chitin. The remnants of its kin entirely covered it with black mucus; it went through its force field like butter and ate away at its body. Several bullets shot at the crab met no resistance, ending its agony and providing bits of experience for us.

  “Replenish it now,” Miltay patted Rast on the shoulder approvingly, and went to take a look at the remains of the crabs. Tomcat was nowhere in sight. The scout had taken off to look at the consequences of the explosion and check if it had alerted the other monsters. “Yari, do you need any of this?”

  The list of our first batch of loot appeared before me. We had decided that we would share everything right away. I scrolled down the list and did not see anything worthwhile: black mucus, chitin and white crab meat. My Book of Knowledge showed the approximate value of those ingredients: all of that could yield no more than one thousandth of a granis. Visiting the auction was not a waste of time: having leafed through various offers for several hours had provided the artifact with quite a bit of knowledge on game objects and their value.

  “Nothing from that.” I came out from the dome and approached a claw that had been severed. “Did you check out the first two as well?”

  “Sure I did,” Miltay smiled for the first time as he cast a proud glance at our restored dome. “You know, don’t give up. Ten times enhancement is not easy to find; there’s definitely nothing like that at the auction. They’ll sell like hotcakes even for a tenth of a granis.”

  “You are too kind and spendthrift for a mercenary,” I pointed out, picking up a piece of twisted chitin. I turned it around and threw it away: the Game perceived it as “useless trash” with zero value and time to disappearance of “10 minutes”. I looked around – there was a fair amount of similar “useless trash” strewn around on the stones.

  “So then I can afford it,” Miltay shrugged offering me some black mucus carefully collected in a vial. Look, there are plenty of crabs here, it’s clear how to destroy them; even if they all die from the explosions, Tomcat will pick it all up. Loot is a good thing, but one’s got to support reputation as well. You didn’t pick us out just so, right?”

  I nodded in agreement. Before selecting a team I had to go through a veritable mountain of very similar information. I shuddered to imagine how much time this would have taken me if it had not been for my Book of Knowledge that singled out the main points in reviews and complaints for mercenaries. Miltay’s group suited me like no other, but I did not remember any mention of their “generosity”.

  We cleaned the small fish out of the first cave within an hour. Chose the place for an explosion, which was enclosed with large boulders, and spread the slower in it – it looked like brown goo pumped from a portable tank – then brought the crabs in threes into this improvised trap. Tomcat had learnt his lesson, so he avoided the spit thoroughly. Burst, who took away the net launcher from me, acted as the spearhead. I did not even bother to protest. The guys had signed up for that, so let them work for their reward.

  “Miltay, stop! There’s something here. The wall,” I said with interest, staring at one of the walls of the cave we had just cleaned. I was used by now to a green highlight appearing around objects, but here the highlight was red.

  “Gere,” Miltay was not wasting time on questions, and sent his tracker forward. I looked at my almost colleague. It would be silly to suppose that a group of mercenaries would not have a fighter specializing in finding treasures, and I was interested to see his method of work. A device with a little screen that appeared in the fighter’s hands puzzled the Book of Knowledge – it was not familiar with this device. Using it as radar, Gere slowly approached the wall – like a sapper on a minefield – looked around, carefully felt the wall itself and the floor next to it, then turned to us and shook his head to indicate there was nothing.

  I did not argue and approached it myself. Making sure that there was no threat coming from the wall, I went toward the point that was apparently only visible to me. The glow intensified with every step, and once I came close its color changed to blue. I pressed the stone lightly. It moved aside and a familiar object fell into my hand: a steel hexagon. Attribute stone.

  Silence fell over the Dungeon, and the rustle of the crabs’ claws could be heard in the adjacent cave. I looked at Miltay. His eyes had narrowed; he was intently staring at the hexagon. The group as one man trained their weapons on me. If the head of the mercenaries were to say a word, or even if a stone were to fall somewhere, they would shoot me full of holes. Finally Miltay tore his eyes away from the stone:

  “Put it away, out of harm’s way.” He was speaking slowly, as if with difficulty. “Or, look, it might happen that the Dungeon will end right here.”

  I nodded slowly and exhaled, releasing the tension. Despite relative immortality it was unpleasant to stare at the silencers of eight machine guns ready to spit out death at any moment. The Book of Knowledge did not provide any additional information on the hexagon: there was no object like that at the auction. Either they sell immediately upon appearing regardless of the price, or players never offer them for sale – just use the stones themselves. I turned the loot around in my hands, decided that even ten granises would not bring me luck, I activated my find.

  Luck increased by 1

  Luck of your group has been increased (Level 2 Luck). Effect duration: 72 hours

  The mercenary coughed, attracting my attention and, having made sure that he had all of it, said in a businesslike way:

  “Going through the Dungeon with level 2 Luck is good. No arguing that. Only, look, you did not even ask how we should divide the stone, and used it yourself. That’s not so good, Yari. Or you think there’s another hexagon hanging out here?”

  “I remember our contract.” I saw no point in denying it. “And I think that we’ll really benefit from doubling our luck. And you – can you guarantee that using that luck we won’t find something ten times better than the stone? This way we have at least increased our chances to complete the Dungeon. Besides, if it hadn’t been for me, no on
e from your team would have found it.”

  Miltay said nothing, and neither did his group. There was nothing they could object to that.

  “After all, if we receive nothing, I’ll find a way to return half the price of the stone. The Game is my witness!”

  Light washed over me: the Game accepted my obligation. Miltay hemmed – he had not expected such a turn of things:

  “Look here, and I’d thought you weren’t so stupid as to hang a debt of ten granises on your neck. That’s settled then. Since you will pay it back – no issues on our part. I won’t even ask how a novice player got activated Luck and why is it that he sees what our tracker can’t see. I don’t really need no extra info like that. The Dungeon’ll be done and that’s the last we’ll see of each other.”

  Having settled the problems, the fighters were looking for a good place to set the next trap, and I continued exploring green highlights in the cave, trying at the same time to find common ground with Gere. I had no luck in either. There were no more caches, and Gere would not even speak to me: either he was mute, or mad at his slip, or I wasn’t good enough for him.

  “Holy mother,” Miltay suddenly barked in irritation, and followed with a command:” “Circle up! We’ve got visitors!”

  At first I wasn’t sure what to do, as I didn’t know my position, but Beast and Burst, who were watching over me, helped me figure it out. I was shoved behind the mercenaries’ back to be out of the way. Only then did I notice that Tomcat’s frame was not in the group: the scout had disappeared from the Dungeon. That could only mean one thing: for him this trip to Alveona was over. The mercenaries bristled with weapons, but the threat had come from an unexpected quarter: Behind us, just a step away from the force dome, the floor bulged and immediately exploded like a volcano. Stone shrapnel was pelting the dome. The shields held, but then a monster started climbing out from the crater it had created: an oversized crab as big as a large truck.

  “Rast, turn it up all the way!” Despite our unexpected guest the mercenaries exhibited no signs of loss or panic. As soon as the monster from down under climbed out of its crater, it was covered with a dozen activated nets, its legs were stuck in the brown space slower and a bright blinding sun was hanging next to each eye. Rast cursed, pressed several buttons and suddenly the cave faded: the force dome became completely solid.

  “Turn on personal protection!” Miltay kept commanding. “Let’s see how good the nets are.”

  “Three. Two,” Burst had launched the nets, and now his lips were moving with the countdown to detonation. Everything happened so fast that there was not even time for me to get properly scared. Wrapping myself in the “Energy armor” and having replenished my Energy to the max, I listened to the fighter: “One.” Boom!

  The force dome was crushed, and a huge piece of stone hit me right on the head. The shield held, but nothing protected me from inertia. Darkness fell over me in an instant.

  “Yari? Hear me?” Miltay’s very funny voice penetrated through the blessed darkness. Through the din of a plane engine – how did that thing get in the Dungeon? – it sounded dull, as if from a metal drum, but I could still hear it rather clearly. The mercenary must be using an ability of some sort: it’s unrealistic for a common person to be heard over a plane’s noise.

  “He’s moving now,” Rast was talking from the same tin drum as the head of the group. “Elves’ ointment doesn’t help against shell shock. He has to come to on his own.”

  My thoughts moved around my skull as listlessly as the parents of a teething baby. Shell-shocked? Me? A bright thought suggested that it may be so dark because my eyes were closed. So I tried to correct that problem immediately. A flicker of light showed up somewhere far away, but I immediately bent over in a crippling spasm. It felt like I was being turned inside out for real.

  “Like hell we needed that kind of luck,” Rast said, irritated, and once again cursed elaborately. “At least this one’s… alive. Drink!”

  Someone forced my mouth open, and a warm and astoundingly delicious fluid poured down my throat. I choked, gulped, coughed, but kept swallowing: I did not want to miss a single drop of the wonderful nectar. Ambrosia, no less!

  My ability to see clearly returned instantly, as if someone had flipped a switch. I was sitting among the stones in a huge crater. All was left of my left leg was a good memory and my flattened armor. It was not clear what had happened to the right one: it was under a pile of stones. I tried to move my toes – seemed as though they were still there. I had no other visible injuries, and finally I noticed the other participants in our raid. There were not that many left: Miltay, Rast and Burst. While the first two looked intact, the net wielder looked much worse than I did: he was missing both arms and legs. However, the mercenary was far from despondent. The elves’ ointment had removed the pain and now he was lounging on the stones grinning happily: since he was alive he could still do something. As to what specifically‒ the lead would think of that, that’s his job.

  “So, look, what did your luck bring us?” Miltay settled down next to me. “One third of the group is alive, one fighter is only good for acting as a living bomb. The net launcher went down the same road as Burst’s arms. There’s no access to the next cave: the stones have collapsed. The good news are experience, loot and the passage that monster dug through.”

  I must have not fully recovered from the shell shock, as it took me a while to realize that now I was a 14th level player. Now I understood why Burst looked so pleased: his level had increased as well. Then I looked at the loot list and frowned: it was not clear why Miltay considered it a benefit. Same stuff: meat, chitin, and now instead of black mucus there were two crab eyes. The Book of Knowledge kept silent: it had not encountered such a thing at the auction.

  “I could take the other eye to offset your debt for the attribute stone,” Miltay’s words completely dispelled the haze. I looked at the two bloody balls with different eyes.

  “What are they for?” My voice was still hoarse.

  “They’re enhancers,” he clarified. “The lenses in the eyes are enhancement gems. Frightfully expensive, they are, just like that stone of yours. That creature wasn’t weak, so the gem would be good too. Just about ten granises, if you don’t look to trade precisely. But if you do, we’d have to look.”

  “May I ask you something?” Finally the moment came when I could obtain an answer to something that had been bothering me for a while. “You seem to be operating on the basis of numbering dozens of granises per item, yet you agreed to go with me for a ridiculously low price. Three granises is nonsense for a high-level team of mercenaries! I can’t figure out what’s at the core of the cost of things in the Game. For the sale of a granis people commit crimes, and here we are, calmly sharing the loot, and no one has any issues with that. Where’s the catch?”

  “Look here,” Miltay drawled in surprise. “When did you come out of the Academy? With this enrollment? Yet you nailed the problem right on. Rast, tell the kid the way things are while I’ll check where that hole leads.”

  “There’s not much to tell here,” the mercenary started reluctantly. “The more granises a player has on hand, the more trouble he encounters. If you are rich, you have to pay for personal security. Or die. Traders don’t count‒they have their own setup‒ but in quests for killing ordinary rich guys; during local events their residences become the number one target; they shine in space like beacons in the night. No way to hide. That’s the main source of income for head hunters, for which they are so universally disliked. Blasted cleaners. The Game tolerates it if you have up to three granises in your hands, but once you go a little above – it starts quietly reminding you that it’s time to spend some. Players like you are tasty morsels. If you had not been sitting in the Sanctuary, you would have died a couple of times by now for sure. You shine like you have over twenty granises on you.”

  “Oh, now it has all become clear as mud,” I replied testily. “What’s a ‘local event’? Where do I
‘shine’?”

  “You shine where you ought to!” Rast said curtly and turned around to look at the hole in the stone just in case. Miltay was not there and Burst only scowled sarcastically. After a pause the mercenary continued quietly: “Trader’s license. It enables one to see the client’s wealth. What, you think Miltay continued the raid out of the kindness of his heart when you ate the stone? He could see that you’d be able to pay him.”

  “The license is also what shows the hunters’ marks as well?” I guessed. I recalled the hearty welcome I received from the trader in the Academy. I had thought he treated everyone like that, and actually the swindler just could see how much I was able to pay.

  “That’s why there’s so much barter in the Game,” Rast avoided the question. “You help me, I help you, and granises don’t even enter into it. Dungeons are good for us because half of the loot is always ours. Loot, not granises. It states so clearly in the contract. Even though there is a granis as well, the one the Game provides. So that’s how it works, more or less.”

  The mercenary fell silent while I digested new information. So that meant that Gromana, by handing me ten granises in the Academy, must have marked me so that it would be easy to find me later! She had a trader’s license! Blasted witch!

  “You didn’t say anything about local events,” I reminded the distracted fighter.

  “He wasn’t supposed to anyway,” Miltay appeared quietly and cut the whole conversation short. “What did you decide about the eye? Are you going to give it to me?”

  “No.” The theory as Rast told it was plausible, but it was useful to study it on my own first. It was possible that was just a sweet tale presented in hope that I would be gullible enough to give them all the granises right away so that I would not “shine”. “After the Dungeon we’d see each other in the Sanctuary, so there we could discuss who owes what to whom.”

  “You don’t trust me?” The mercenary grinned.