Alpha Zero (Alpha LitRPG Book 1)

by Arthur Stone

  The leisurely nature of the work allowed for distractions. I paused regularly, casting casual glances this way and that, occasionally activating the talent to note the creatures hiding below the water’s surface.

  While I was polishing the tackle with small stones that crumbled under the thumb if you pressed too hard, something alien caught the corner of my eye.

  I rose to get a better look. The visual was indeed unusual. Floating down Blackriver was a raft. A clumsy contraption of crags, flimsily held together with rope. Rising in the center was something resembling a soccer goal, each “goal post” held up by braces on either side. Or something else that served as structural support, for the crossbar was bearing a hefty load.

  Two human bodies.

  Already past its zenith, the sun perfectly illuminated every detail of the gruesome scene. Even as I wished that it didn’t.

  The bodies looked to be in bad shape. All the signs pointed to posthumous torture or the kind of death you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy. Fingers, ears and noses severed, eye-sockets empty and skulls bare, the skin missing from the heads and other body parts. Some spots had been flayed in large patches, others cut in narrow strips.

  I had heard plenty of scary stories about the Wild Wood. Yet, aside from the momentous crossing that had taken place not even in the wood itself but at its border, nothing terrible had befallen me or anyone I knew. Life here, though not without its complications, simply wasn’t the nightmare that the folks outside advertised it to be.

  At least that had been my thinking until I saw the raft and its passengers. A nightmare it was, indeed.

  My nerves of steel kept me steady where others might have fainted at the ghastly sight. Instead, I focused on the raft’s movement, estimating its trajectory. The current should carry it down the right channel, no more than twenty yards from the beach. But it might as well be floating underneath the bluff all the way across—I wouldn’t have a shot at stopping it either way.

  Yet, I had to try and stop it somehow. Ash would want to take a look at this spectacle, wicked and rare as it was. In all the days I had spent fishing in the river, I had never seen a craft crewed by disfigured corpses.

  The were no boats on the beach, but even if there were, I couldn’t handle even a small one on my own. So I did the only thing I could do: I gunned toward the fort, waving my arms while hoping that the sudden physical exertion wouldn’t result in a setback. The bridge tower was always manned with a pair of guards that shouldn’t miss a solitary figure dashing frantically on an open beach.

  I shouted, too. The day was practically windless, so they might actually hear me from here.

  Was it my imagination or were they waving back at me? Indeed, they were.

  I threw up my left hand overhead while pointing with the right to the boat, which had almost made it to the start of the beach. Assuming the guards on duty weren’t total morons, they should realize that something was amiss with the floating gallows. Myopia wasn’t common in Rock—they should be able to discern the bodies dangling off the crossbar.

  A minute later, a small delegation emerged on the top of the path: Ash and a solitary guard, older and fatter than any I remembered seeing. Beko wasn’t kidding about the fort’s entire population leaving to harvest hornflower. The big man himself was coming, and essentially without reinforcements.

  I waited for them to descend, then pointed again at the raft.

  “Those are dead bodies.”

  “And here we thought they were revelers,” Ash snapped without stopping, then turned to the guard. “Maddox, grab a fishing pole and get to Falcon’s Stone. Looks like the raft will either crash into it or pass right by. Try to intercept it. I’ll wait on the opposite side, to the right of the awning, in case it shifts direction.”

  Rushing to keep up, I decided to intervene.

  “No, the raft won’t come near the shore. There’s a stretch of underwater rocks that directs the current away. It’s heading right to where the big fish is splashing, see it? From there, it should crash into the base of the cliff. That’s the best spot to wait for it. If you can’t intercept it there, it’ll be gone.”

  “Nonsense,” Maddox objected. “Falcon’s Stone is further into the river.”

  “The boy knows the river,” Ash noted. “You go on to Falcon’s Stone, but I’ll set up at the base of the cliff, like he said. If the raft ends up floating past, he’s getting the lash as punishment. He badly needs it to reign in that loose tongue of his.”

  Once again, initiative on my part was swiftly punished.

  * * *

  The raft worked out like a charm. Just as I had said it would. I had watched Blackriver day after day, and so could not help but notice the garbage carried downriver by the current. All pieces of trash, large and small, behaved in a predictable manner.

  Ash snagged the raft with a wooden boat hook, pulling it towards the rocks before the current swept it under the massive vertical rock that served as the trading post’s foundation.

  I pointed to the inscription adorning the crossbar. “‘All shall suffer, who come to the land of the Emperor of Pain.’ Looks to me like it’s written in blood.”

  “You can read?” Ash narrowed his eyes.

  “Nah, I just guessed what it said, because of the blood.”

  “You certainly know how to beat around the bush. It’s distracting. Cut it out. Tell no one about anything you’ve seen here, understand?”

  I nodded silently, but could not resist pressing. “What’s in their mouths?”

  “What do you mean?”

  I pointed at the nearest body. “They look gagged somehow, and something is jutting out of their mouths. I doubt it’s their tongues.”

  Ash quietly moved to the raft, grabbed the support bar holding up the morbid crossbar with one hand and unsheathed his dagger with the other. Then, he used his blade to force the corpse’s mouth open. A revolting mass fell out, like a lump of insects held together by sappy mucus.

  That instant, Maddox began to vomit and moan. “Chaos take me, what’s that in his mouth?”

  Ash crouched down and examined the slimeball. His voice betrayed no passion. “They stuffed his mouth full of hornflowers.”

  “That one on the right looks like Savi,” Max said tremulously. “I saw his hand all crooked like that, back when he was felling trees near Greenridge last year. He was saving up some money for a healer. Told me his thumb had trouble obeying him and that his wrist was in agony. Now, at least, the agony is gone...”

  “He and Gamus set out just the day before yesterday,” Ash ruminated.

  Maddox nodded. “Gamus told everyone that he knew where the best hornflower fields were located. And they told him not to be foolish. ‘Don’t go far from the water’s edge,’ they said, ‘especially not overnight.’ Gamus never was one to take advice. This might be him. But it’s too hard to tell for sure.”

  “Whoever did this is still nearby,” I added, “and they did this so we would find them, in the clear of day.”

  “What do you mean?” Ash asked without turning.

  “These men have been dead for a long time now. Ten hours or more. Rigor mortis has set in. Wherever they were strung up like this, their bodies were still fresh. The killers stuffed flowers in their mouths and tied their jaws shut with something. Once the rigor mortis arrived, that something was removed. I don’t know why. Look, you can see the marks of the ropes here. Without them, their jaws wouldn’t be so tightly closed. Then, the raft was carefully pushed so that it would hit exactly this spot. Whoever did this knows this river well. They also knew, then, that they could not send the raft on its journey from too far away. So they pushed it off from somewhere close. There are no signs here of axes or saws; the raft is made of branches bound together. The kind of construction that doesn’t make much noise. I bet a quick search of the left bank would discover the place they build it.”

  “Just speculation,” Ash murmured, “but it’s good thinking. Where did you learn
to read?”

  “Down south. I had a decent family.”

  “You were no pauper, I can see that. But listen: not a word about any of this to anyone.”

  “I understand. But all of our people are over there, along the river. Including Beko. They have no idea that—”

  “They’ll find out soon enough, kid. This timing is quite unfortunate.”

  “You’re telling me,” Maddox replied. “Hornflower season has just arrived. Our harvesters won’t be able to go anywhere without armed escort.”

  “Keep an eye on the raft. I’m heading back up, and I’ll send Zeir your way, with burlap. Take the bodies down and wrap them up, then bring them back up. No one is to see this display. Once you’re done, push the raft off and let it float freely down, all the way to Redriver. Not a word to anyone, you understand? If our people start filling their ears with rumors about the emperor of pain and hornflower harvester hunters and whatnot, I’ll know whose tongue to come and cut out. Hey, Ged! Where are you off to?”

  “I don’t have any orders, and we’ve still got time until evenfall. So I’m off to try and catch a few fat kotes.”

  “You hear that, Maddox? He’s going to try catching a kote! You’ve got some bollocks, kid, fishing in waters bearing bad omens like this.”

  I shrugged. “The dead don’t attack the living. The ones who killed them can’t reach us, either. They’d have to reach this sandbar somehow, so we’d see them in the water. Even when they come up on the sand, they’d be in plain sight. Unless they’re small enough to use the wild leek for cover.”

  “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  “Thanks. I always try to learn.”

  “Then learn this: You’re not in the South anymore. This is Blackriver. They named this stretch of water Blackriver because it’s always full of black blood. Always. Also, the dead in this land are not always as peaceful as they are in the South. Anything can happen here. Everything is to be feared, unless you want to die young. Now head back up, right away, and down into your cellar. Keep out of sight until dinner. They say you’re sick—you’re not out harvesting hornflower, after all. So go and recover. I don’t want to see you down here again for the rest of the day.”

  Chapter 24

  Magical Skills and Sundries

  No Stat Changes

  Ash’s orders put me in a strange situation. There was plenty of time before dinner—and nothing for me to do. Yet I was not lazy. I absolutely had to occupy myself with something.

  To start, I climbed up the northern wall, which gave me a wonderful view of the left riverbank. The bank to which most of the inhabitants of the trading post had gone.

  No matter how much I looked, I didn’t see a single person. The forest was gloomy and dense on that side. Only in a few places was it interrupted by tiny elliptical floodplain lakes mostly covered with reeds and cattails. Even with good binoculars, I would have probably been unable to spot people through the dense thickets.

  If they were even near the water. The terrain began to rise about half a mile inland. The rare deciduous trees and spruces gradually gave way to pines and cedars as the land climbed towards the sky. Low hills rose in the distance, checkered with large open spaces. Just below the horizon, the hills grew into the peaks of a mountain range running from east to west.

  Beko and the others would not reach the ridge, of course. That would require a journey of several days, at least. However, the start of the hills was only an hour away. I had no idea what biomes hornflower preferred to inhabit. Perhaps it hated damp lowlands, and so the harvesters had to climb far away from the river.

  None of them had any idea as of now that their numbers had been reduced. Two of them had perished, at the hand of a mighty and malicious enemy.

  Was that enemy approaching the others now? I felt unsafe, even here, surrounded by walls. Ash had pushed for the maximum number of harvesters today, to take advantage of the advent of hornflower blooming season. Hardly anyone remained in the trading post. Even the raft bearing its bloated bodies had not been noticed immediately, despite the sentries’ duties of keeping watch on the river.

  If the enemy assassins are strong enough in number, they could swim to the sandbar and charge up an entirely unprotected approach. They might not even be noticed until the end. From my vantage point, I could only see one watchman in the tower. The other had descended to help with the bodies. Any attackers might have been able to enter the trading post without any trouble.

  Ash certainly understood this as well as I do—so he had ordered me to stay up here. Once the bodies were dealt with, the guards would close the main gate.

  That thought settled my nerves. As long as the imaginary approaching force was a small band, not an army, they would be unable to overcome us.

  Or at least that was what I wanted to believe. I did not entertain the thought that the villains might have warriors as strong as Camai. For men like Camai, a wall two human-heights tall was no real obstacle.

  In the world of Rock, even a solitary warrior could accomplish much. As long as you sufficiently developed the gifts the ORDER gave you.

  And so, those gifts would occupy my time now. I would figure out the state of things, what I needed to improve, and in what priority.

  My base chi reservoir was at 888, with 3 attributes filled to the max, one talent, and 6 Equilibrium levels. Everything else was inactive and thus had no effect on me whatsoever.

  The 888 units was excellent. Most of the natives only had a few hundred, and expanding that reservoir was very difficult—and for some, downright impossible. I didn’t have to worry about my chi reservoir.

  The leakage, though, was a different story. The powers that be were stealing several points of chi from me every day. Was there any way for me to stop this drain? I only knew of one possible way, and I wasn’t sure that it would work in my case.

  This way was to fill the reservoir to the max so that I could advance to the next degree. None of the natives experienced this leak. Their chi was always increasing, restored over time. If they avoided spending chi on attributes and talents, they could easily reach degree 7 or 8 by age 15. They would have a handicapped character, of course—but hypothetically, it was possible.

  So, getting a complete set of chi was no problem. It was after this that problems could begin. Right now, I was a big fat zero, an empty void, which the ORDER was trying to fill. If I reached 1st Degree, it might begin to consider me a normal person—after which I would have to catch kotes for days just to earn a single +1 to an attribute. I would have to live the way that ordinary people did.

  Worst of all, that might not stop the leak.

  Meaning that I might lose my increased chi production without gaining any compensation. I would have to take steps, but not yet. Talents were not yet requiring this value to increase, and nor were my attributes.

  I could shelve all Enlightenment progress, for now.

  Now, three attribute levels was nothing impressive. Normal restrictions at 1st Degree allowed six. But my Equilibrium level doubled this maximum. At this pace, I would have to work for a long time in order to reach that maximum. Depending on what kind of rewards I got. Sadly the standard attribute marks—which could be used on any of the five attributes—did not drop very often.

  Not that I had anything to complain about. If I had my prices right, one standard mark was worth enough to buy a cow or two. The natives hardly ever saw such trophies.

  Stamina had a clear lead, for now. It kept receiving the biggest boosts. I saw no reason to hinder the growth of this attribute. It was useful for everything. The higher my Stamina, the stronger my Health was, and the better my general chances of survival.

  Strong Health was never a bad thing. I would allow my Stamina to keep growing.

  My States looked at once good and bad. An Equilibrium level of 6 was good. I doubted that Camai’s Equilibrium was any higher than 2 or 3—and by the standards of the North, Camai was considered a strong fighter. Plus, I had unlocke
d Enhanced Enlightenment, too. It still had not reached level 1, but I was in no rush for that. All that stat did, after all, was increase the capacity of my chi reservoir, and I did not need that. It would come in handy in the future. I would be happy to strengthen my Perception and Spirit, but for the time being, that was also unnecessary. Nor were Mana Regen and Combat Energy Regen important—I couldn’t use either of them yet.

  I would be happy to advance my Chi Shadow number, though. The higher my Chi Shadow, the faster I would regenerate the energy needed for Fishing Instinct. Without that, though, a couple hundred points were good enough for a full day, if I used them wisely. And those points could regenerate fully during the night. Still, I could not deny that I’d like to stop needing to carefully conserve and calculate the exact values day in and day out. Using my ability more often might have allowed me to avoid the large kote attack.