“Stacey?” Unable to resist, I called Anastaria. I needed an answer, and, no one but her could give it to me.
You cannot reach this character. Anastaria is not currently in Barliona.
Damn it! Double damn it!
“That’s the situation then,” said the Rogue’s voice behind me, making me start. “Got to get up early tomorrow. I’ll go hit the hay. By the way, you should get some rest too, wash up, clean the dust off. Taking on a bunch of water mobs after several days of waving the pickaxe probably deserves a good rest first.”
Clutzer was behaving as if nothing had happened. However, the dead earnest look in his eyes let me know that he was under immense stress. He was watching to see whether I’d keep his secret or not.
“You’re right. A rest would be best,” I replied carefully, and took the tent from my inventory. “Help me set it up?”
Whoever Clutzer was, he had revealed something I would never have guessed on my own. Had the Rogue returned in the morning, I could have begun asking around about his absence, but he left the game for exactly as long as it took me to read the letter and consider how to react. Now, my second raid leader was helping me set up the tent as if nothing had happened, whistling some tune under his breath. I need to do some thinking, a lot of thinking. It’s a good thing that Anastaria hadn’t been in the game—since Clutzer had asked me not to tell anyone, including her, I guess I’ll forget what I saw for the time being.
But who is he?
I could not fall asleep that night. No matter how I tossed and turned, no matter how much I prayed to the medical equipment that should have turned me off—sleep just wouldn’t come to me. Clutzer’s secret ran circles in my head, gradually forming the following picture:
Clutzer was an employee of the Barliona Corporation. More accurately, a contractor hired by them to…to do what? Whatever it was had something to do with me. Otherwise the Rogue would never have taken such a huge risk. Damn…I needed more information…What if I’m mistaken and Clutzer has nothing to do with the Corporation? In that case, how did he come up with the 22 million? And why is he so secretive about the whole thing?
The clock read two in the morning and I wasn’t tired in the slightest. When at last I got sick of looking at the tent’s walls and ceiling, I stepped out into the night to the dark lake. The two moons were in the sky, illuminating the surroundings, and in the dusk that had descended on the lake, there was no sight of the pterodactyls that had teemed above it all afternoon. But the sky hardly seemed interesting to me at the moment because the depths of the lake glowed with a stunning light show—either all or some of the aquatic mobs were luminescent. Huge sparkling sharks swam slowly and majestically along the shore, smaller creatures that resembled octopuses rushed between them at high speed, and schools of small fry huddled near the shore, no doubt to avoid the sharks. The beauty of all this was so indescribable that I could not resist. I turned into my Dragon Form and soared up high over the lake, wanting to take some pictures for memory.
As soon as my wings felt the first gusts of wind, all my thoughts of Clutzer evaporated—the act of flying always captivated my mind. A dark sky, dark waters, glowing monsters—what could be better?
Damage taken: Bluewing Bite
Out of nowhere, my pleasure of flight was rudely interrupted, and I felt an invisible force dragging me to the water’s surface. Or rather not a force—I just suddenly for no reason at all had become much heavier than I was a few moments before. Given the system message that some beast was gnawing at me, I began to flap my wings with more force and managed to twist my neck so as to get a look at my back. Better I hadn’t done so—as soon as my head turned, a furry, blue monster flashed past my eyes with tremendous speed and cast the “Blindness” debuff on me. It only blinded one eye, but that was enough to confuse me entirely—the pain was so intense that I roared and jerked forward and began to spin around my axis of flight. It was very difficult, since my wings kept buckling, but I was rushing forward at a breakneck pace, understanding perfectly well that if I don’t shake the bluewing from my back, he’d eat me alive and all my plans of keeping the Paw would vanish in the oblivion of Lethe. A Paw into Lethe…what a way to put it.
Damage taken: Mechanical hit…
I really did the right thing by adjusting the notification settings. What does it really matter how much damage I’ve taken? I’m alive so who cares? As long as my frame isn’t gray, I’m good. That was why a short while back I had adjusted my settings so that notifications would only report what was happening. This way there was less clutter. One should never forget about ergonomics!
The hit had been a mighty one. It was so intense that all I could do for the first several seconds was stare at the notification and contemplate my settings, as if nothing else was even happening. The debuffs ‘Stun,’ ‘Deafen,’ ‘Vertigo’ and another five similar status effects completely interrupted any sense of objectivity I had. If I were a functional Shaman, I would have summoned some Spirit of Cleansing and dealt with this bastard in short order. As things stood, however, I’d have to wait five minutes until the debuffs expired.
Although…I don’t much feel like waiting around either…
The Shaman has three hands…
… and behind his back a wing…
… from the heat upon his breath…
Shining candle-fire springs…
Returning to my normal state was like an electric shock—such a wave of either pleasure or pain passed all over my body that I arched, my appendages shaking—yet literally a second later, the transparent veil that separated me from the world popped. Smells, sounds and the realization that I was right beside the tower on the island came to me. Next to me lay the corpse of a Level 300 bluewing.
My Hit Points were deep in the red, so I reflexively summoned a Spirit of Healing and looked around. The lake shore was only ten meters from the tower so it was simply a miracle that we hadn’t missed the…
I summoned a Spirit of Healing?!
The news was so overwhelming that I sat right down on my tail and propped up my head with my wing. That’s not supposed to happen. My Shamanic powers are supposed to be blocked at the program level—and it’s not like whatever just happened could be called a ‘hack.’ No one was attacking me anymore, so I opened my log and began to study what just took place…
3:24:01 Used spell ‘Cleansing Fire.’
3:24:01 Removed debuffs ‘Stun,’ ‘Deafen…’
3:24:12 Used spell ‘Healing Fire’
3:24:12 Dragon Rank promotion …
3:24:12 Dragon Rank has reached current level cap…
Fire…the Fire Spells…I opened my character properties and looked at the Dragon Rank entry—I had just reached Rank 10 and needed to go see Renox if I wanted to level up further. All well and good, but I still don’t understand how I cast those spells! They’re not Spirits after all!
“Mahan, where are you?” Clutzer said in the chat. Whoever he was, he was worried about me. On the other hand, maybe he’s just worried that I’m telling someone about his secret…Well, I will leave it for now. When I have more time, I’ll deal with the situation and punish whoever’s responsible. For now I’m grateful to the Rogue for helping me gather my thoughts. I am on the island that our party will need to reach tomorrow. If I deal with the bluewings, we won’t have to worry about the aquatic monsters and I’ll be able to ferry everyone over by air. At Rank 10, I could remain in Dragon Form for 100 minutes. That should be enough to transport half our party, so we’d all be on the island in two days.
“On the island, doing recon,” I wrote back in the raid chat. “Pack up the tent, Clutzer, please. I don’t want to waste time in the morning with it.”
“Okay, but how did you get there?”
“By air. You’re forgetting, I’m, like, a Dragon and so on. I’m going to have a look around. Maybe there’s something useful here.”
Fifteen minutes later, I concluded that the tower had no door. Turning back to
my human form and muttering over the fact that the XP from the bluewing I’d killed had gone to my Dragon self, I walked several times around the perimeter of the tower, but did not notice any entrance—no doors, no windows, no embrasures. It was a simple circular wall of stone, about seventy meters in diameter. It’s worth also remembering the swirling fog up at its top—the fog hadn’t responded to my presence on the island, but it was still a good idea to keep an eye on it just in case…
“What do you have?” Clutzer inquired again. It so happened that of all the Raiders, only the two of us had remained in Barliona. The rest had signed out to reality, so we could safely talk in the raid chat as if it was our own private channel.
“Nothing. A tower with no entrance, no windows, tall as hell and that’s it.”
“Have you tried to fly up to the top? What if you simply can’t see the entrance from the ground?”
Hmm…Why that’s an idea! Once again turning into my Dragon Form and trying to stay as close to the tower as possible, I started to spiral around it in tight circles, with each turn climbing higher and higher…
I almost missed the window. After rising almost three hundred meters above the ground without finding anything, I began to look askance at the fog I was approaching. It continued to act as if I weren’t there, but I was getting the ominous feeling that if I touched it, I’d discover out that this was no friendly fog at all.
Gently landing on the window’s sill and mentally thanking the Patriarch for teaching me how to fly, I slashed the shutters with my wing—not giving much thought to the possible consequences. There was the noise of breaking glass and the window, along with the beams holding it in place, collapsed inward to reveal a spiral staircase on the inner walls of the tower’s perimeter—and another tower inside. This internal tower was so narrow that it was more of a spire. It was only about thirty meters in diameter, but it was covered with windows and doors that were located in places that seemed pretty difficult to get to, since…Okay…I could be getting ahead of myself here…
Several suspended bridges led from the outside wall to the internal spire. They were located at varying heights—and meanwhile, this internal spire was rotating around its axis, periodically connecting its doors to the bridges. A pretty little piece of architecture, what can you say…
“Mahan, the fog is beginning to descend. Try to be careful…”
Sticking my head out and looking up, it only took a moment to make a decision, jump out the window and plummet like a stone. The distance between the fog and the window where I had been was a little more than ten meters—despite the fact that before I broke the window it had been an entire hundred. The fog really had tried to sneak up on me quickly—but Eluna had watched over me. I had three hundred meters between the earth and the window, so I decided not to unfurl my wings and enjoy the free fall.
“If that tiny falling speck is you, then you should probably flap your wings a little faster. It’s looking like you’ve woken someone!”
I looked up, cursed, paused and cursed again. The wind was rushing past me with a terrible whistling and even folded, my wings were fluttering, but the fog wasn’t lagging behind even a bit. The incomprehensible substance continued to chase me at the same speed, maintaining the twenty meters distance on my tail. I felt no desire to become better acquainted, so I began to gently open my wings and come out of my free fall. I didn’t feel like crashing into the ground either. (What a lazy dragon I am! I don’t feel like doing anything!)
About fifty meters from the ground, I finally spread my wings and abruptly changed direction, flying away from the tower. All that I could rely on now was my +30% flight speed from my upgraded armor. The system stayed treacherously silent about the option of using Dragon Breath, so I had no weapon to fight the fog with. I hoped only that it was somehow bound to the tower and wouldn’t chase me away from it. Otherwise, I’d be helpless.
“Mahan, the fog is following you. Heads up—there’s another speck approaching you from your right—five o’clock. And don’t pull an Ustar—I don’t want to respawn…”
The fog is following me? Damn! Double damn it all! Glancing in the direction Clutzer indicated, I cursed yet again—ears plastered back, another bluewing was rocketing in my direction! He was Level 300 just like his brother, and he was just as blue and furry, though it was harder to tell in the darkness.
The fog did not lag behind. Moreover, I got the feeling that it was coming unacceptably close to me and was about to devour me. Something clicked in my head, giving rise to a plan. It was so extravagant that I was sure it would not work, but I had no other choice—I couldn’t lead the fog and the bluewing to Clutzer. If I died, the raid could go on without me. If both of us died, however, the players returning in the morning would find themselves at the entrance to the Dungeon and the first attempt would be history. As if! If someone must die here, let it be me. Cue the dramatic music!
Using my tail to adjust my bearing, I turned straight for the bluewing. A joyous squeak pierced my ears and saddled me with several debuffs, but gritting my teeth, I ignored the pain and disorientation and went on flapping my wings. Forty meters…the bluewing had already spread his claws, preparing to land on me, his red eyes following my tiniest motion, and I realized that in the eyes of this Imitator, I was as good as dead. The desire to tear apart his hated enemy was so evident in this mob that I had to make a great effort to keep flying straight. I’m going to ram him! Twenty meters…I could see the slobber dripping from the mouth of the monster flying towards me. It seemed that this mob’s Imitator had already eaten me in his processor and was now trying to turn his dreams into reality. Five meters…The speed at which we were approaching each other was so huge that we were covering tens of meters in mere moments. When the distance between us was very small, the bluewing flared its wings like a parachute, wanting to slow down and latch onto me with greater efficiency. The mob didn’t want to lose such a piece of prey. Just as I expected…
I all but wrenched my wing as I went into a steep bank and dropped like a stone to the lake’s surface. All kinds of welcome messages about overloading my wings and new debuffs flashed before my eyes, I passed out for a moment, but came to in time and was able to level off right over the surface.
“Clutzer?” I managed ask in the chat. I didn’t have the time to turn and see what was going on behind my back.
“The fog swallowed the mob, slowed down a little, absorbing it, but is once again after you. I could be wrong, but it doesn’t seem to be moving as quickly as before. At any rate, it’s definitely no longer gaining on you.”
I will never know by what miracle I escaped the jaws of the shark that jumped out of the lake. I simply sensed at one moment that I was about to be done for and banked aside, figuring that the fog had crept right up to me. Right in the path of my former trajectory, an enormous pair of toothy jaws appeared, wishing like Charybdis to devour another victim. If I had gone on flying straight, I would never have avoided those teeth…At the same time, the amazing thing was that this lake-dwelling doggy was not sparkling like the others, as if it was designed to hunt the flying bluewings and players. By the way, I wonder whether you can fly on griffins around here…
“Minus one fishy,” Clutzer immediately replied. “The fog ate him too. By the way, the fog’s gotten bigger…Heads up: Bogey at your ten o’clock!”
At the whim of the developers, another bluewing had decided to cruise around its surroundings this fine night and maybe check out the mysterious creature zooming around the Dungeon’s dusky sky. All right, we’ll resort to our tried and true plan one more time…
I ended up feeding another seven bluewings to the fog, as well as three sharks who came jumping ten meters out of the water. My Dragon Form timer was approaching its last ten minutes when Clutzer sent me another message:
“Just now, another fishy jumped into the fog, trying to eat it. Now the fog’s stopped in place. It looks like it’s had its fill…Mahan, if there’s no one else guarding t
he tower, maybe you’ll go see what’s inside of it?”
The island was only a hundred meters away from me, so I flapped my wings several more times and fell to the sand, turning back into my human form. My Energy had dropped almost to zero, my whole body ached, I had trouble breathing, and at the moment I had only one wish—to get some sleep. Pulling out an Elixir of Energy, I poured it down my throat without swallowing—the fluid knew where to go and I didn’t have the strength for such mundanities.
The elixir replenished all of my physical stats, yet it was incapable of restoring my mental fatigue—the last thing I wanted was to turn back into a Dragon and crawl back into the tower. I’d need an entirely different kind of elixir to go on—not that it would help much, since booze doesn’t work properly in Barliona anyway, the desire being to promote a healthy lifestyle among the players. For all that, I understood Clutzer perfectly well. He was now acting like a true Raid leader—while the Dungeon boss is busy digesting, it’s not a bad idea to dig around his coffers to see what’s what. You never know when the next opportunity will show up. If it weren’t for the jewels that I needed for my Chess Set, I wouldn’t lift a finger right now—however…I’m starting to get the impression that Clutzer is manipulating me, making me do things that he needs done.
The Karmadont Chess Set (The Way of the Shaman: Book #5) LitRPG series Page 11