by Max Lagno
Jamilla undid the clasp at her throat. Her cloak fell and two giant wings stretched out behind her back. Each feather was its own blade, and each blade was enchanted with some form of extra elemental damage. Jamilla had a full set: fire, ice, poison, energy shock, plasma lightning. And dozens and dozens of other spells. Everything that could be bought in the most majestic temples or from hermits living in the desert. One feather of her wing was worth a whole low-level warrior.
Crusher even took a step back. He and his pathetic spear were worthless against such power.
“Pretty birdie,” Grisha said.
The third cube opened and divulged a medium-sized spiderbot. It unfolded itself and stood back on its legs, deploying two machine guns ahead. The spiderbot wasn’t a player, but an ‘autosen’: an autonomous sentinel. It decided on its own where to fire during battle, and who to help or cover. Autosens were an expendable resource in guilds. They could even independently go on missions, talking to the same NPCs as players and completing quests to level up. In a strange irony of fate, this NPC was the highest level of all the attackers. It was up at level one hundred and ninety-nine. It was a very rare autosen.
“Is that all your circus freaks?” Jamilla asked. “And what are you capable of yourself, Grisha? Or are you just a black box of tricks for your harmless rabbits to jump out of?”
“Enough talk, let’s dance!” the bizoid growled, rushing to attack first.
Golden rings of light surrounded Jamilla’s body. When they dissipated, she wore a helmet and armor of qualia — the rarest and most durable material found in Rim Five. It was used to create armor that could withstand not only any magic, but also a shot from a mechanodestructor’s laser cannon.
* * *
Jamilla decided to hide her secret skills, so she parried Most Ancient Evil’s attack with a simple block. The bizoid’s face collided with the blade of her sword. Having taken damage amounting to almost a quarter of his entire health, the bizoid leapt back under the cover of the autosen and began to literally lick his wounds: one of the skills of his DNA modification that allowed him to regenerate quickly.
The fallen angel attacked at the same time as the bizoid. But his spear strike ended up aimed at Tulpar. The battle steed had put himself between the fallen angel and its master, bringing the might of its hooves down on Crusher. Damage numbers fell from Tulpar, but more fell from Crusher:
-230
-126
-176
…
Every strike brought the fallen angel closer to death. Crusher gathered his strength and finally managed to defend himself. The stallion’s hooves drummed against the transparent watery surface of the shield. Now each strike actually dealt a little damage to Tulpar. The dumb animal didn’t realize this, and Jamilla had to call him back.
The water shield was high-level, but a completely standard shield. Jamilla took out a spell scroll, unfolded it and threw it. A green column rose from the ground and lunged for Crusher’s shield. Seaweed instantly grew across its watery surface. The shield transformed into a lump of stinking slime with branches sticking out, then collapsed at Crusher’s feet in a heap of mud.
Crusher leapt up and took flight to save himself from Jamilla’s magical ranged sword strike. He somersaulted backwards in the air, aiming to land and hide behind one of LeCube’s boxes.
A transparent copy of Jamilla’s sword separated from the original and rushed after Crusher. He had already hidden behind the cube and folded up his wings, but the transparent sword flew in an arc and fell on its enemy like a guided missile. It was impossible to see where the sword fell behind the cube, but transparent shards flew off as if from a big explosion, carrying with them black feathers and chunks of flesh.
Jamilla (Fallen Angel) killed Crusher (Fallen Angel) with a Spectral Sword.
“Not bad,” Grisha commented. “I see I shouldn’t have given up on magic, it has its advantages.”
Jamilla didn’t answer. She was focused on the battle. She suspected that Grisha’s cubes might be useful for more than just transport. He remained a mystery with unknown capabilities. She had to consider that the greatest threat.
While Jamilla was killing Crusher, the autosen did its job, raining fire down on Jamilla and Tulpar from both its machine guns. Most of the bullets ricocheted off Jamilla’s wings and she took no significant damage, but the horse’s health fell.
Jamilla took out and cast a Death to Machines spell scroll. It took out all machines below level one hundred and twenty, including mechanodestructors and androids. All the rest temporarily lost the ability to move. The higher the level, the lower the duration. The autosen froze and a golden ring appeared above it, quickly filling with red: the indicator of its time immobilized. But its machine guns continued to fire — it just couldn’t aim the fire at Jamilla anymore.
Unfortunately, foolish Tulpar stood side on to the autosen’s frozen machine guns in defense of his mistress. That type of pet was famed for bravery bordering on insanity. Their stupidity balanced out their strength: when they encountered an enemy, they often ignored commands and went for the enemy until they won. Or until they died, like now.
Using the delay her pet had created, Jamilla flapped her wings, took off, turned in the air — her sword left a shining trail behind her — and descended on the autosen. By then, the autonomous sentry had already begun to emerge from its stupor. It began to turn its machine guns up toward her.
Jamilla dealt a single blow that cut the machine in half. The burning halves melted into nothingness, turning into streams of light that flew into Jamilla.
That was her Lifestealer ability at work. Every defeated enemy filled up the mage’s Health.
“I hate your magic tricks!” the bizoid roared, rushing to attack again.
A trace of his movement could be sign behind him as he ran, a clear sign that the bizoid had used Time Slow. Jamilla had just enough time to notice that and draw her sword, but the bizoid, barely visible because of his speed, easily dodged the blade and flew at her, knocking her to the ground.
However, that was all Most Ancient Evil could do. No matter how hard he bit or scratched her, the qualia armor was impenetrable. All he could do was scratch it, etching small complex patterns on the surface.
Jamilla almost casually kicked the bizoid away, at the same time releasing a magic strike: Most Ancient Evil flew forty feet, landed on his back and howled. A second strike took away nearly all his health. The bizoid turned and stood on his hind legs.
“You don’t like magic tricks?” Jamilla asked. “Well, I don’t like players that turn into animals.”
Falling onto his front legs, the bizoid crawled to the cube as if seeking refuge. He was probably begging Grisha to help him in the chat. In one flying leap, Jamilla reached the bizoid and stamped him into the ground. The furry creature’s spinal column crunched, his body bent almost into a wheel, then went limp.
Jamilla (Fallen Angel) killed Most Ancient Evil (Bizoid) with a Spectral Sword.
Jamilla waved her sword, using a spell to charge its ranged ability. There were two left, that should be enough.
She turned to Grisha. “So what are you capable of except for condemning your friends to death?”
“What am I capable of? Let’s see.”
The four cubes stirred and began to move toward each other. Soon all four merged into one big cube.
Jamilla quickly extended her wings and release a volley of feathers. When they reached LeCube, they stuck into its surfaces, knocking out chunks of black mass.
Chapter 28. Last Chance
GRISHA HAD DELIBERATELY sacrificed his guildmates to observe Jamilla’s combat style. He could deduce which skill branch she’d leveled based on the spells she’d used. On the other hand, considering her level, that didn’t solve that much. It was clear already: Jamilla had leveled up everything she could, and moreover, she’d obtained special abilities and weaponry by completing missions in the new zones she’d unlocked.
When she
spread her wings and launched a stream of feathers at Grisha, he decided he wouldn’t keep his ace up his sleeve.
The feathers changed color in flight and took on an aura of fire, acid or energy, showing which type of magic they were enchanted with. In response, Grisha used a software configuration that was also one of Nika’s own developments, that didn’t copy any already existing frame. Naturally, it had cost an insane amount of money, like everything Nika crafted. Grisha felt like a new player after he bought it — he had almost no money left.
Accept program configuration LeCube_000004?
For a second, Grisha ceased to exist. His consciousness turned off and on again like the beat-up assembly line in the synthetic-soy meat factory where Grisha worked in real life.
And the strange thing was that he couldn’t figure out: if his consciousness switched off, then who was it who recognized, in that millisecond of non-existence, that he’d been switched off?
The magical feathers slowly flew through the air as if piercing through an invisible obstacle. Jamilla’s hair slowly fell, locks elegantly tangling and sliding across her face.
Time Slow was a standard skill. Both magical and technological races could do it, but... Grisha had never felt time run this slowly. Then he suddenly realized that it wasn’t Time Slow at all. It was something else.
He realized that he was no longer alone. Tens of thousands of his consciousnesses filled the battlefield. He saw the scene from every point, every angle, every moment in time. He could lay out those moments like cards in a casino, fan them out into a line.
“Damn... Beautiful.”
He saw that LeCube had split up into the smallest particles of which it was made, the component nanomass. Each particle got a separate copy of Grisha’s consciousness. It was as if he’d copied himself a hundred and forty thousand times in the same moment. And each of those Grishas viewed the world from his own angle, thought his own thoughts, but they all joined into a kind of shared center that was him — Grisha.
This meant that the slowing effect wasn’t Time Slow at all. Time itself had lost its fluidity, becoming a set of fragments, and Grisha could do what he liked with each of them. At the same time, in his hundred-and-forty-thousand-strong form, he continued to see LeCube’s interface, with two indicators occupying most of the screen:
CN Expenditure: 8,200 per minute.
Expected configuration maintenance time: 8 minutes.
At the bottom was a line of rapidly changing numbers: the indicator for CN being converted into energy units. Grisha frowned and cleared the details from the screen. He wasn’t one to track his resources until the very end. He was a fighter, not a strategist. That was exactly why his brother planned all Black Wave’s operations, while Grisha showed his skills in each individual battle.
And he knew: for victory, speed in battle was more important than preparation for it. When you act quickly, you act intuitively and surprise yourself, which means you surprise the enemy too.
The battlefield was shrouded in the black cloud that LeCube had turned into. Jamilla looked around in bewilderment. Her feathers pierced the cloud with no visible damage. Then she tried to fly out of the cloud surrounding her, but as soon as she jumped, part of the cloud thickened, transforming into a tentacle that pulled her back to the earth.
Grisha wasn’t just controlling the situation, he was controlling each fragment of time in the situation. And his personal experience told him that Jamilla would try to choose the most effective means of resistance next. It surely existed. That meant he had very little time to win.
* * *
Without giving Jamilla time to think, Grisha began a decisive attack. His CN cost immediately rose, and the timer fell down to six minutes. When it ran out, LeCube would take on its base form and would be defenseless against Jamilla’s powers. She’d be able to break it with nothing but her fist.
Tentacles, spears and blades began to form around her. Jamilla parried one with her sword, struck others back with a shield that formed on her arm the moment she was struck. But some strikes hit her armor and pierced it.
Much to his enjoyment, Grisha’s interface lit up with damage notifications. Jamilla’s health bar dropped but began to grow back as soon as Grisha stopped attacking or Jamilla parried several strikes in a row.
“Right,” Grisha said. “So her Armor regenerates her Health?”
He stopped aiming strikes at the weak joints of her armor, and redirected them to the armor itself, aiming to weaken it to a point where she would either lose her regeneration entirely or its rate would drop far enough for his damage to overtake it.
The sword in Jamilla’s hands changed into a spectral axe. A good sign: her best weapon was out of action. The shield appeared on her arm less and less often, and was soon replaced by an ordinary non-magical shield. Which was actually very good, also made of pure qualia. Jamilla had a whole fortune equipped!
A red line blinked in Grisha’s interface:
Expected configuration maintenance time: 4 minutes.
In addition, Jamilla did exactly what he’d feared: she figured out that to fight this strange cloud, she’d need to use a spell against ethereal creatures!
She drew a scroll, letting a few painful strikes land. Her Armor was no longer regenerating her Health quickly enough, and it began to drop threateningly. She unfurled the scroll... It was a Phantom Explosion!
A bright blue spiral curled around Jamilla and quickly expanded, spinning ever faster. Some of the cloud even got pulled into the spiral.
A strike — then the spiral split into a thousand points of light, striking at LeCube’s cloud.
Grisha had been waiting for that strike. He was ready but couldn’t avoid the damage. He drew most of his microscopic copies away from the hit zone, but the rest were forced to hold around Jamilla, keeping her in her hazy prison.
For the first time in the battle against Grisha, Jamilla finally got a notification that she’d dealt him some damage! And sizeable damage:
Health: 22,340/52,000.
Another spell and he’d be done for!
Another spiral began to form around the girl. Its threads span with threatening speed. Grisha used almost all his available CN. With the loss of several tens of thousands of CN, he’d also lost control over the time fragments. The world once more took on its usual speed and movement.
Clenching his teeth (which he didn’t have, but he still felt as if he’d clenched them), Grisha gathered the rest of his disparate cloud and formed it into one gigantic blade like a curved sword, then rushed into the gap between the strands of the spiral. He did so just as the spell was about to release in a phantom explosion... The spell completed, but a split second after the cloudy blade ran Jamilla through. The remains of her armor broke off in shards, falling to the scorched ground. The phantom explosion dissipated along with it, dispersing into the earth.
Jamilla fell face down onto the stone, then turned... Her health bar was nearly at zero.
Grisha had seven left.
* * *
But Jamilla was still alive. Her Last Chance skill had activated. He had the same skill himself. A player could use it to live for a short time after death. Their mobility was limited, but they could try to finish off their enemy. If the player won, all their Health was returned. The first level of the skill gave just ten seconds. Considering Jamilla’s level, she had no less than three minutes.
Jamilla didn’t try to attack. She decided to use her remaining time to negotiate. “Don’t kill me.”
“Why not?”
Grisha took on his base form and hovered above Jamilla’s recumbent form. He began regenerating at the same time. If Jamilla so much as tried to go for a weapon, he’d crush her.
“I... I have a lot of money. I can buy my life. Two million, agreed?”
“And then you’ll keep exploring?”
Jamilla didn’t answer.
The Black Cube descended to the ground, taking on the form of a humanoid robot. A plasma gun for
med on one of its arms. He aimed it at Jamilla. She shifted.
“Did you not used to wonder why someone was hiding from us, what was in the lands of Rim Six?”
“I wondered. I don’t care.”
“How can you be such a jackass?”
The robot’s mechanical lips stretched into something resembling a smile.
“I actually think that all this commotion over the supposedly secret Rim Six is just another quest for high-level players. Some want to get there, and others want to stop them. That’s how we’re split into teams. Like a kind of ‘capture the flag’.”
Jamilla was watching him, head raised. After he finished, she slumped back to the ground. “You’re a moron.”
“No, you.”
A burst of white plasma flew from the cannon and burnt Jamilla to a cinder.
Grisha (Mechanodestructor) killed Jamilla (Fallen Angel) with an Arena Plasmagun.
Messages flooded the interface. He’d earned enough experience for his level to jump all the way up to two hundred and ninety. Grisha immediately invested the multitude of skill points he’d earned into LeCube’s configurations and skills.
He increased its CN capacity. His experience of fighting Jamilla showed that he could no longer rely on LeCube’s originality. Jamilla knew what kind of weapon to use against him, and soon everyone else would know too. He’d need to claim the reward from Mariam as soon as possible and buy as much CN as he could from Nika.
After all his changes, his stats were:
LeCube (Mechanodestructor Frame).
Base CN: 140,000 (minimum amount for full functioning).
CN Storage: 190,000 (one experience point gives +10,000 to storage volume).
Grisha wanted to invest another ten points in expanding his CN storage, but prudence won out when he considered that he didn’t yet have the income to fill it up. At least until Nika took pity on him and gave him a discount.