Unbound Deathlord: Challenge

by Edward Castle

  Her face contorted but, to my surprise, she did step out of the way, the glow in her eyes fading away. "You didn't need to threaten me." She said low, almost a whisper.

  "I did, sister. You are getting better," Marbareus said surprisingly softly. "The Prince will skin me alive for this little prank of yours." He resumed walking and I noticed a slight smile on her lips as I passed her by.

  "What the hell was that?" I asked.

  "None of your business," Marbareus answered like the prick he was and got on my nerves. Had I really tried to befriend him ten minutes ago?

  "Oh, so the big bad vampire has a soft spot for his little sister, does he?" I mocked. "Isn't this one of those things people aren't supposed to let their enemies know?"

  He laughed. "I'd like to see you do anything to Kassandra, deathlord. Please, be my guest."

  Giving her a quick glance and once again noting her golden armor, I decided it was better not to. She was a woman, after all, and I was a perfect gentleman. I dared any living woman in Valia to say I wasn't; emphasis on living.

  More importantly, he had not said we were not enemies. That gave me a strange sense of foreboding.

  There were no further delays and we finally reached the central building. It looked like a classical palace, big and white, with multiple banners flying numerous insignia, all of them geometrical. They were all different variations on the theme of blue, green and silver.

  People hurried to the side as we climbed the stairs of the palace. The guards here even bowed to Marbareus; "First Lord," they would usually say.

  The entry hall of the palace was enormous. Lots of silver columns supported the three story high ceiling and sculptures adorned the room here and there. The floor looked like a single blue stone, polished and glowing weakly. There were few people here, mostly soldiers going one way or another.

  "Tardas, take them to the guest room next to mine," Marbareus said to thin air.

  "As you command, First Lord." A raspy voice said behind me. I turned back and a ghoul was only half a meter behind me. Scary. I hadn't heard nor sensed him at all.

  He was wearing a dark green scale armor and holding an impressive white wooden longbow on his hands. By my gaming knowledge, that was surely elven made. He also had a thick black metal collar on his neck and a small purse on his waist.

  "If you would please accompany me, mister and miss, it would be my pleasure to take you to your accommodations." He said bowing as we looked at him.

  "A ghoul butler, that's new."

  "I am pleased that my humble presence was able to remove preconceptions from your head, mister."

  "Ouch. Nice jab."

  He turned to the right and started walking without reply. Marbareus was already away from us, walking in another direction. Daggers and I followed the ghoul.

  "So, you're a hunter or what? I can't even hear you walking."

  "I am what the First Lord orders me to be, mister."

  "And what has the First Lord ordered you to be?"

  "He has ordered me to be secretive of my orders, mister." He had a way of sounding condescending but not irritating, which was awesome.

  I smiled. "The way I see it, you just disobeyed him by telling me that." He didn't answer and I turned to the drow by my side. "What do you think, Daggers? A perfect match for you, huh?" She also didn't answer, which was exactly my point. I became damn satisfied with myself for that brilliant observation.

  Tardas led us through a corridor, stairs, more corridors and a final lounge. Paintings and sculptures were apparent along the way, and so were more ghouls wearing the metal collar. The more ghouls I saw, the more uncomfortable I felt.

  This place reeks of my mother.

  "These are your rooms, mister and miss," he said opening the door. "Should you need anything, please ring any of the bells in the rooms and a slave shall come to you."

  Daggers entered first and faded away from existence. Logging out, I guessed, unless she had become better at stealth.

  As I entered, I took a good look at the room. I was in a living room of an apartment. It had a large wooden table full of food, a fireplace, comfortable looking sofas and armchairs, a metal box that looked like a freezer and three doors. The floor was covered with animal furs and a few glowing crystals on the walls were responsible for illumination, just as they were in all the city and palace.

  The first thing I did was check the freezer. Seeing the cold vapors leaving it and blue magical circles inside made me satisfied. It was always nice to see magic replacing modern technology.

  Next, I took a bite of some meat that tasted like apple on the table. Unlike the mushroom, it didn't give me food poisoning. There was way too much food arrayed across it, from steaming bowls to ice-cream.

  "The First Lord has not told me of your background, mister, so forgive me if what I will disclose may sound offensive – it is not my intention." Tardas bowed. "It's not uncommon for workers to access occupied rooms to do their job. They are to be ignored unless you need something from them. Should their presences be deemed intrusive, you need but to order them to leave and they will return in a few hours."

  Yup, just the way mother would like.

  I saw nothing wrong with social rules for the employees, by itself. The problem started when-

  No. Enough about mother.

  "I'm a people person," I said to the ghoul. "It's really hard for me to ignore someone. Also, everyone seems to love me and keeps vying for my attention. Especially in the Underworld, this lovely warm place. But I'll do my best."

  Ignoring me, he went away, closing the door behind him.

  I sat in an armchair and took a deep, relaxing breath. Since saving Ted I had not stopped to take a break and think. This was a good opportunity to do that. Or maybe not: a message popped up in my vision.

  System Message

  Dear user,

  Although the Dreamer, our Long Term Immersive Capsule, is capable of both preventing brain damage for extended usage – multiple fail-safe layers included – and putting the brain into a sleep like state, our doctors advise there is no substitute for a proper sleep.

  We care the utmost about your health and safety!

  The ideal amount our system has calculated for you is seven hours per week.

  You are playing a species that should not be burdened by the need for sleep, therefore while you sleep your time will be counted as if you were training in any way you choose, for a maximum of seven hours per week.

  This is a special feature for you, Dreamer user.

  And don't worry: you will be awakened if anything of interest happens around you.

  Should you refuse to sleep, you will be forcibly logged out and put in a sleeping state for the needed time.

  You can open your Sleep Window at any time to check the remaining sleeping time available, and to determine both how you want to invest your time and for how long you wish to sleep.

  Our systems detected you are in a safe resting place and we suggest you use this time to sleep. There is no telling how many wonderful adventures might happen non-stop while you travel in Valia!

  Yours,

  V-Soft team.

  The message made me very, very upset. Sleeping was the thing I dreaded the most. Sleep gave me dreams. Dreams of the people I had killed in the real world. Unless it was a heavily drunken sleep.

  When I had discovered undead didn't need to sleep, I hadn't even considered another option. And now V-Soft was shitting on me.

  I sighed deeply. I had decided to rest when I got the chance. Resting didn't mean sleep, but if I slept now I could at least rest too, and train my character while I did that. Plus, it was either that or losing the Challenge.

  No point in delaying the inevitable. I opened the Sleep Window, chose to train my magic with focus on fire magic, and set the sleeping time for seven hours.

  As soon as I hit the 'OK' button, darkness consumed me.

  * * *

  "Tell me, son. What is power?"

&nbs
p; Mother was sitting on the leather sofa of our living room, reading something on her paper-thin tablet. It was the day after my fifteenth birthday and she had ordered me to attend one of her lectures.

  "Father says it's money," I answered with my best poker voice, if that's a thing. Mother didn't care if I lied or offended her, as long as I kept my voice devoid of any and all emotion.

  'Emotion breeds weakness,' she always said. 'If you must be weak, at least hide it from your enemies.'

  "It is not wrong, but it is too shallow." She rarely looked at me when she gave me her so-called lessons. Her looks were reserved for when I messed up, and they always came with consequences that I had learned to fear. "Do you understand this country's employment system?"

  "I think-"

  "Never let your enemies know you think. Thinking allows you to consider your enemy's position, which in turn allows them to corrupt you and your power. You must always be sure." She repeated another of her great pearls of wisdom. "I already told you that."

  Father would have me say I was sorry. Mother would have punished me for saying that. "You did, but I ignored it. Sue me." My voice was plain the whole time.

  She nodded slightly. "Much better. Do you understand it or not?"

  "I do."

  "Then you know our employees do much more work than they are paid for."

  I looked sideways to the maid waiting by the wall, who held a metal platter in front of her body. She was clothed in nondescript black and white clothes.

  "Yes."

  "Why do you think they don't leave?"

  I had no idea. But 'it's better to be sure of something wrong than to let your enemy know you have doubts about yourself and your own knowledge.'

  "Supply and demand of jobs."

  "No. Any employee trained by me would have great market value. They don't leave because I don't allow it."

  She said nothing more. It was time for me to ask the right question or be punished. I had to use all my willpower to not show fear in my voice.

  "Why don't they sue you?"

  "Not the right question..." I braced for impact. "...But not completely wrong. They wouldn't dare do anything to me because they understand true power." She made a gesture with her hand and the maid approached from behind.

  "Yes, senator?" The maid asked meekly.

  "Kiss my feet."

  To her credit, the maid only showed disgust for a split second. "Yes, senator." She moved in front of mother, knelt, put the platter on the carpeted floor and kissed her feet. "Is that satisfactory, senator?"

  "No. Keep kissing until I order otherwise."

  "Yes, senator." The maid obeyed.

  I couldn't keep the disbelief and revulsion from my face. That was too surreal, even for mother.

  "True power," she said, "is knowing that nothing can be done to oppose you. If you told anyone what you are seeing, they would not believe it. Because they don't understand it. They've never experienced it themselves, they only know the infantile form of power called money.

  "But this inferior woman at my feet understands that no matter what she does, she will never, ever, be able to do anything to me. More than that, she knows that if she even dares to try, she will regret it for the rest of her miserable life." She moved her feet out of the way, the maid took the platter and got up.

  "Anything else, senator?"

  "Yes. Kiss my son's feet."

  The maid turned to me and I felt my eyes widen. "What?!" I almost yelled. "No! This is ridiculous!" The maid knelt before me, but I moved away from her.

  "You dare disobey me and show emotion while doing it." Mother's voice cut off my protesting. She looked at me.

  I took hold of myself. "Yes," I said back into a plain voice. "I will not-"

  "Sarah." Mother said and I froze. "This is aunt Sarah's doing." She never called my aunt 'my sister,' even though they were siblings. "She has been corrupting you since the day she came into this house."

  "No!" Dammit, my voice! I controlled myself. "No. She has nothing to do with it."

  "That's what you say. I disagree and I have the power to do with her as I wish. And there is nothing you can do about it. Do you understand?" Her blue eyes were so terrifyingly beautiful and intensely cold. They seemed to pierce me.

  "Yes."

  "Then you know what is to be on the wrong end of true power. Today you must learn to be on the right end. I will not order the maid to go to you, this time you will order her to go to you on all fours and kiss your feet."

  She returned her gaze to the tablet and I felt the weight of the world lifted from me.

  It was either comply with her order or losing Sarah. My aunt. The only bastion of righteousness in that house. My last refuge. The one who taught me about love, respect, and everything good. The woman who was a true mother to me.

  As much as I wanted to protect her, I knew that she would never forgive herself if someone was humiliated that way because of her. I was about to say no to mother when I took a quick glance at the maid. She was looking at me with tears forming in her eyes.

  'Please,' her lips mouthed.

  And I remembered when mother had told me that Marta, our last cook, had been imprisoned for stealing jewelry from us. I couldn't believe Marta had done that, but I hadn't understood at the time.

  Marta had displeased mother in some way. And the maid was afraid of what would happen to her.

  With difficulty, I opened my mouth. "Come to me." I took a deep breath. "On all fours."

  She did. Her eyes never left mine. She was before me, looking at me from below, awaiting my order. Complete submission. "Kiss my feet," I ordered with a mechanical voice. She obeyed. Complete control.

  "Welcome," mother said, "to true power."

  I saw the maid bend her body. She kissed my left foot first, then my right one. Then she looked at my eyes again, waiting for another command, and I understood what mother meant.

  Having that kind of control over another human being felt awesome.

  But the maid's eyes also conveyed something that I was sure mother had never received:

  Gratitude.

  For doing that to her and preventing something worse.

  Leaning to the side, I puked.

  * * *

  I woke up agitated, breathing heavily, and covered in sweat. The digital clock on the edge of my vision told me I had slept for exactly seven hours and there was an exclamation point on the edge of my vision.

  That had been one of the most difficult lessons mother had given me. I would later in my life come to realize the people working in my house had been slaves in all but name. For years I wondered why they didn't go to the media or the police. After I killed my parents, grandfather had told me how Marta had done that and been discredited with the false charge of theft.

  My respiration took some time to return to normal. Breathing, something an undead shouldn't do. I credited it to the fail-safe mechanisms. Focusing on the air moving in and out had, after all, helped me calm down a little.

  I got up and drank some water from the table. For the next few minutes, I focused on the taste of the food. When I was once again myself, I examined the exclamation point.

  Fire of Revelation

  Skill is now level 4!

  » Cost: 20 MP

  » Damage: 18 (4 + 14 [Intelligence])

  » Range: 4 meters

  » Duration: 40 minutes

  That showed me multiple things. First, the sleeping training really worked. Second, I had been sure that the spell would get better on higher levels, but now I knew that the MP cost also increased. Third, after a quick try, I discovered I could cast lower level versions of the spell at lower costs.

  And that was only part of the message.

  New skill unlocked on The Flames skill-tree

  Fireball (level 3)

  After some consideration, you realize that fire would make a wonderful weapon if used in a slightly different way.

  The result is a magical fireball that can be th
rown and creates a tiny explosion when it collides with something.

  » Active Spell

  » Cost: 30 MP

  » Amassing time: 1 second

  » Element: Fire

  » Damage: 86 (60 +12 [Adept Mage] +14 [Intelligence])

  » Max collateral burn damage: 20% (17)

  That... Was huge! I checked how much it was enhanced by the fire magic boosting ring and saw that the base damage on level one was thirty, half the base damage on level three.

  Deathlord Renno's Ring of Fire was really legendary, in a way I hadn't understood before. It was boosting the spell's damage by thirty points by itself. And the Circlet of Enlightenment boosted it further six points thanks to the ten bonus points in my mage trait, each point giving one percent bonus damage.

  Granted, the fireball was still useless in close combat, where the smaller amassing time of the darkness magic would be much better. But in a ranged battle it was the best thing I had.

  "Thank you for dying on me, Miss Renno," I said in a half-mocking, half-sincere prayer. She had boosted my fireball damage by thirty-six points by herself. And this was only on a second tier spell, too.

  Anxious to try it out, I bit my tongue and created a fire morb with the pain, noticing it took a second to appear and consumed thirty MP instead of twenty.

  Fireball, I willed, focusing on the fireplace.

  Magic happened, the morb slightly expanding and then flying to my target. The effect was greater than I expected: the explosion blew the three logs that were there in half and fire enveloped the fireplace, expanding upwards and leaving a trail of black soot where it passed.

  Neat.

  I decided to check the three doors in the room. They revealed two luxurious bedrooms and a bathroom. The food on the table seemed to have been replaced while I slept, everything as fresh as when I had just arrived.

  Such a waste.

  I was beginning to smell, so I opted for a bath. The bathroom was large and covered in light blue tiles, except for one wall, which was completely covered by a huge mirror. A big bathtub was already filled with steaming water and two metal disks as large as me were mounted to the low ceiling. There were multiple white towels and robes near a sink with a very small disk in the place of a tap.