I leaned against the low parapet and gazed at the tall flames dissolving in cascades of sparks.
The celebration was now in full swing. I was never one to rise above the occasion but tonight for some reason I didn't feel like joining the whirl of a pre-programmed party. If only Enea were here with me! Still, she hadn't resurfaced yet.
Mechanically I peered at the crowd, searching for Arwan, the kobold and the two Guards of Gloom.
There they were, joined at the hip as usual. An Elf and a kobold drinking together! True, human players were known to make stranger bedmates — but NPCs? They lived by their racial differences.
I had a funny feeling I knew what all four had in common. All of them had received their share of neurograms back in the underground dungeon.
I really needed to keep an eye on them. Had the fragments of human identities taken root within them? If so, I needed to know any potential outcomes of this reluctant "upgrade".
Lots of questions, not enough answers — worse still, no one to provide them. Who was Dietrich? What had prompted him to use the Altars of Chaos as portals? How had his pet demon gotten hold of neurograms? Who had sealed the service entry which allowed Corporation workers access to the world of the Crystal Sphere? Was all this part of the planned experiment — or had it gone completely awry?
Somehow I didn't think I could expect clear-cut, truthful answers from anyone. All I could do was keep an eye on the situation, piecing together whatever information I could lay my hands on. Or should I go back to the other Altar of Chaos (seeing as I knew about it anyway) and try to have a heart-to-heart with this Dietrich creature?
The moon rose over the moors. Something caught my eye: a weak glint moving down one of the creeks in the faint moonlight.
"Lethmiel?" I mouthed.
Yes, my lord, his voice echoed through my mind.
Have you got a Magic Eye ready?
I've got two.
Could you hand me over the access?
Yes, my lord. Is anything wrong?
That's what I'm trying to find out. I'd like you to contact the Elves and tell them to take up their positions on the walls.
A new icon appeared in my interface.
I activated it. A brief vertigo overcame me as the Eye began its course high above the castle. It took me some mental adjustment in order to stabilize the picture and focus the magic energy on the area I was interested in.
Darkness parted. The creek waters glistened silver in the moonlight. The dark outline of a large, crudely made raft flowed soundlessly with the current. And another one. A whole fleet of them.
Now who might that be? Some NPC fishermen from a moorside village?
Somehow I didn't think so. I needed to find out who our nighttime visitors were and how they found their way here.
Maintaining concentration, I forced the Magic Eye to move down a notch.
Moor Goblins. Now I could clearly see their squat stocky figures sloppily camouflaged with heaps of rotting algae. There were at least fifty of them per raft, not counting the shamans who were circling their totems while muttering something.
So they'd decided to attack us, despite the agreement we'd achieved earlier this morning?
The castle was virtually defenseless. I was so struck by the thought that I very nearly lost control of the Eye just as the goblin fleet turned toward the castle.
Quest Update: Troublesome Neighbors
You must repel the goblins' surprise attack.
I tried to estimate their approximate numbers. Bad news: there were at least three hundred of them there. The rafts moved downstream expertly, apparently controlled by experienced pilots.
If they continued at this speed, they'd land on Rion Isle in twenty minutes — while all I had was a motley group of NPC ex-prisoners and about a hundred farmers who'd arrived to celebrate with us.
Clenching my teeth, I peered at the attackers' tags. Levels 30 to 50!
We couldn't hold the castle on our own. The only solution I could think of was investing every bit of the money I'd just farmed in the underground dungeon into hiring some castle guards ASAP.
I switched the eye to Patrol mode and opened the castle control interface.
Impossible. The hire rates were out of this world. The best I could do was either fifty archers or a hundred foot soldiers. And because the castle's restoration wasn't complete, the highest permitted level of the guards was 39.
Okay. I could hire the foot soldiers. I had twenty archers of my own. That might be enough to deter the enemy for a while. Having said that, it was probably easier to surrender all the inner courts and hold out inside the towers.
I had but a few minutes to make a decision. The goblin fleet was already approaching the delta's passages. Soon it would be within the direct proximity of the castle. One might think they'd land straight away. They had two access routes: either via the pier (the stairs to which I'd so helpfully repaired) or through the ruins of the barbican where the shore was the flattest.
Foot soldiers or archers?
I leafed through the interface tabs, all the while realizing I had to interrupt the party and order the Elves onto the walls, but I simply didn't have the time to do it all! Lesson learned: my very first experience in castle defense command had already put things into prospective, and... and my archers needed more arrows. The hired NPCs only had a quiverful each. Time to check the armory.
Nothing in there.
By then, the first raft had already cleared the creek. Five more followed, approaching the shore. They began falling into a formation.
That's it, then. I had to hire foot soldiers.
I pressed the button. It glowed red.
Operation denied.
The enemy is within sight of your sentries.
The system message hit me like a ton of bricks. Very clever, Alexatis. You should have stepped on the gas when you had the chance!
The music stopped. Alarmed voices resounded under the donjon's walls.
The Elven avant-garde must have spotted the enemy and raised an alarm. And I knew the question they should be asking themselves: where was their wretched clan leader and what did he think he was doing?
I was here — admittedly, pretty clueless about how to repel the surprise attack. The only thing I could think of was activating the castle's magic defenses. Until now, I hadn't even got the chance to look into it. I simply hadn't had the time.
I opened the magic defense tab. The source of power had already charged the surviving runic sequence to about 25%. And what was this? How interesting... It might actually work... provided I acted upon it now.
"Lethmiel, get the golem out onto the shore!"
Without closing the interface, I whipped out a teleport scroll from my inventory, focused on a distant spot within my direct line of vision and broke the seal.
I found myself on the shore surrounded by the Elves busy stringing their bows and taking up their positions along the steep bank.
"Don't shoot!"
My spectacular arrival at the scene had suitably impressed the already-desperate farmers, earned me a few respectful glances from the archers and triggered an outburst of malicious fury in the enemy lines. Not bothering to hide anymore, the goblin warriors sprang to their feet, shaking their weapons and bellowing their battle cries.
Runic sequence activated: the Element of Earth
Warning! You're about to use 25,000 pt. of the Castle's attack potential. Restoring it might take up to 72 hours. Are you sure you want to proceed?
The Elves froze at their positions, awaiting my command. I stood alone on the steep shore. Goblins raged below. Their rafts had already crossed the channel of fast-flowing water at the center of the delta and were now within bowshot.
A cargo portal flashed open behind me. The farmers screamed in fear. The whole shore shook under the golem's shattering gait.
But even that was nothing compared to the power of Earth.
It came as a faint whiff of cool breeze which wrap
ped itself around me, filling me with the kind of primal strength I'd never thought I had. A destructive ancient force entered me, coursing my veins, suppressing whatever human traits I still had and turning me into a blind vehicle of Elemental power.
Mechanically I glanced over the waves. The water rippled under my gaze. A low roaring sound came from the moors. The steep bank began crumbling, showering the water below with pebbles.
My gaze alighted on the first raft. The roaring sound seemed to grow stronger as it approached from the moors. Hydras' petrified screams were followed by desperate howling as moor creatures sensed the looming catastrophe.
I focused on the enemy.
The goblins promptly shut up and began rowing hard toward the shore.
My eye pupils dilated. The earth began to tremble. Sharp squelching sounds came from the moors. I was struggling to control the Earth's fury.
So I let go.
With a heartrending rumble, sharp cliffs erupted from the water, piercing its surface sideways. Splintered wood flew everywhere. The ropes binding the rafts together began to snap. One of the cliffs pierced a raft and lifted it high in the air; a few more disintegrated into a chaos of wooden debris. The remaining craft were sucked under by whirlpools filled with the bursting bubbles of marsh gas.
A few goblin survivors desperately tried to swim to the shore but my Elven archers quickly discouraged them.
The current sped up, frothing and sweeping the flotsam out of sight past the jagged line of cliffs which were already cracking and crumbling as they sank. Fearsome underwater monsters added to the chaos, finishing off any goblin survivors.
Finally, the crushing elemental force released my mind. My vision blurred. My muscles slackened. The two Guards of Gloom jumped to my rescue: their strong hands supported me inconspicuously while the kobold growled at the curious farmers and Elves, keeping them at a respectful distance while I gulped a quick vial.
My vision cleared. My muscles quivered.
Lethmiel was fussing around me. "You can't do things like that on your own, my lord!"
The Cargonite Golem walked over to the water's edge and slowly turned his head as his fiery glare searched the seething waters for any surviving enemy.
Cheers came from every direction. I stood there torn by mixed feelings: the joy of my lightning victory tainted by the guilt of my momentary lapse of judgment. My procrastination might have cost us dearly.
Quest update: Troublesome Neighbors!
You must find out what prompted the Moor Goblins to attack you.
It could wait till next morning. Now I needed to restore. This impromptu show of channeling Elemental forces had completely drained me. I felt ravenous. I headed for the nearest fire with a still roasting rabbit turning over it when Lethmiel stopped me,
"The dinner is served in your rooms, my lord," he said matter-of-factly. "I've taken the liberty of getting two chambers ready for you. Would you like to teleport there?"
"Aren't I supposed to stay and celebrate our victory?"
"Not necessarily, my lord. Familiarity breeds contempt. If I may advise, it might be better not to tone down the impression you've just made."
"Very well. As you say."
* * *
IT WAS ALMOST midnight when I had my late candlelit dinner. The magic lamps were barely glowing as all of the available power was being used to recharge the castle's attack potential and to support the now utterly useless magic veils that had switched on in the castle's destroyed areas.
I really should have gotten some sleep but I knew I couldn't. So many things had happened in one day that I just couldn't take it all in.
I couldn't sleep, no. Also, there was something else I still had to do.
I picked up a stack of parchments, a quill and an inkwell, then traveled the castle's portal system to get to the Hall of the Elements.
My fingertips began to prickle.
I walked around the hall for a while, stopping on a tile or other and listening to my sensations.
Found it.
Predictably, the tile was marked with the symbol of the Earth. On top of protecting the castle, the only surviving runic sequence also served as a potent power focus.
I sat on the floor cross-legged, placed the parchment sheets onto a flat piece of wood and began laboriously copying to them the more energy-consuming albeit necessary spells. You never knew when they might come in handy.
Exorcism, Object Replication, Dark Regeneration, Mass Teleport, Teleport Coordinates...
This time I decided not to charge them as I risked dropping dead from exhaustion. I had a better idea. Once I'd copied all the spells, I left the sheets neatly stacked on the tile bearing the sign of Earth.
I'd come back here in the morning and see whether it had worked or not. Did the Hall of the Elements have the energy necessary to charge scrolls?
I took another sheet and wrote on it in large letters (for Platinus, Raoul and Lethmiel),
Do Not Touch!
Then I went back and spent the next ten minutes in bed trying to sleep. I couldn't. With a sigh I got up and walked out onto the balcony.
The stained-glass room door closed silently behind me. The party was long over. The yard was silent, the dying fires barely glowing. The alarmed night calls of moor creatures and the heavy gait of the golem whom I'd set to Patrol mode were the only sounds disturbing the night.
A faint whiff of wild violets touched the warm, heavy air.
I swung round. Behind the stained-glass door, the candles on the table shed transparent tears which rolled down the fancy candlesticks.
The little flames swayed as if disturbed by a faint breeze.
Noiselessly I opened the door. The aroma was stronger here. "Enea?"
The candles cast an uneven light upon her face.
"Alex!" she draped her arms around my neck, gazing unblinkingly into my eyes. "I'm back."
"But the implant?"
"I've got it. Properly this time. I had a falling-out with Dad. Let's not talk about him, please."
A cold shiver ran down my spine. "Was it Mr. Borisov who helped you?"
She pressed her face to my shoulder. The smell of her hair tickling my cheek was driving me crazy.
"What difference does it make?" she whispered. "I've made my choice. I'm back to be with you."
* * *
I AWOKE in the morning to the quiet sound of melodious chiming.
Eleven o'clock already! My interface was flashing with several missed calls and the To-Do List icon.
Enea was nowhere around.
I sat up. I can't have dreamed her up. Dawn had already broken when she'd fallen asleep in my arms.
Lethmiel was serving breakfast on a small side table. "She told me not to wake you up, my lord," he half-turned to me. "She asked me to forward you this marker."
The castle map flashed with an emerald dot located on one of the destroyed floors.
"Have you met her?" I asked.
"I met her already last night," he replied calmly. "Who else could have given her a magic access ring to ensure she could pass through the protection veils? Your lady is as beautiful as a forest dryad..."
"Why would she want to go there?"
"She didn't tell me."
"Okay. What else have I missed?"
"We have two wizards asking your permission to come here. Apparently, there was a breaking news story in the Crystal Daily News this morning reporting your crushing victory over the goblins. We've received over two hundred new clan applications. I would suggest you introduce some kind of vetting for the applicants. Fame has the tendency of attracting all types..." he fell into a meaningful silence.
"How did they get hold of the video?!"
"That's what I was asking myself too so I spoke to Arwan this morning. He sent out his scouts who discovered a spy lurking on one of the isles. According to him, the video is legit. He demands to see you referring to some 'exclusive story agreement' that Lady Enea apparently promised him."
> I immediately remembered the sleazy Daily News reporter. "His name isn't Sciatant, by any chance?"
"Exactly!"
"You've locked him up, I hope?"
"He's in chains. The orcs are guarding him. A very brazen individual, if you ask me. He started mocking his guards claiming he could disappear in an hour's time. Can you imagine? We had to cast a Curse of Stone on him just to shut him up."
Pointless taking him to task for unauthorized use of magic. One thing I couldn't understand: how had this seedy paparazzo managed to get here? I needed to have a heart-to-heart with him about it.
"Your breakfast," Lethmiel reminded me.
"Thanks. I'll look into the clan applications. What about those two wizards?"
"Their names are Iskandar and Rodrigo. I never met them before so I can't advise."
"You can allow them limited access to Floor One of the donjon. I'll have a talk with them once I sort all this out."
"Yes, my lord."
He left. I splashed some water on my face, equipped my gear, ignored my breakfast and ported directly to the donjon's destroyed floor.
* * *
AFTER the early-morning rain, the ruins felt damp and gloomy.
A rat squeaked in the echoing silence.
"Alpha, give me a break!" Enea's voice resounded in the dark. "I told you to get the rat! Forget spiders! You're big enough now! Are you afraid of it? You be careful or I might change your name to Omega! Which is not a-"
She didn't finish. I heard a rustling sound followed by a thump. Another desperate squeak echoed from the walls.
"So you see? You can do it! Now another one — but please find it yourself! I'm not going to highlight targets for you anymore!"
I walked toward the voice. There they were, all present and correct. Enea was sitting on a big barrel with her legs tucked under her. A closer inspection revealed about a dozen rats cowering amid the debris. Alpha the Black Mantis froze in combat stance at the center of the desolation. He'd grown a lot. The scales of his chitinous armor glowed with a healthy sheen.
The Curse of Rion Castle (The Neuro Book #2) LitRPG Series Page 19