“And he even has to ask! Lori was performing today! Come on, I still have a recording of it! We need to celebrate!”
“I kindly request a few minutes of your time.” A goblin in a tuxedo appeared beside us. His voice instantly told us who we were talking to — the arena’s announcer had blessed us with his presence.
“Under the rules of the tournament, you wagered Lait’s Stinger as part of the betting pool.” Plinto gave me a surprised look, unsettling me a little bit. I’d forgotten to tell him. “A raise was received, and under the rules you yourself set, it must be called. How do you prefer to call the raise, with gold or with items at their market value?”
“How much is it?” It occurred to me to ask before making my decision. It seems much easier to call using gold than to go around looking for…
“Six hundred, thirty-two million gold,” the goblin deadpanned, staring at us with his hazel-blue eyes.
“HOW MUCH?!” Two throats hollered in unison. Plinto was no less shocked than I was.
“Bihan wagered his Castle of the Solar Wind that you cannot win ten battles in a row at the status arena. The counting of the bouts begins tomorrow. Will you call his bet?”
“Understanding that this may cause a bit of inconvenience for you,” squeaked the announcer after a short while, as we stood there in shock, “Bihan is prepared to accept your personal castle as a calling bet. “Altameda. In that case, the bets will be considered even and…”
“If Bihan wishes to wager his castle,” I interrupted the goblin, trying to calm down. “That’s his personal erotic problem. My wager has been made — Lait’s Stinger. There’s no mention of evening the bets in the betting pool I set up. If he reckons that the Staff is worth an entire castle — that’s his business and his wager. If he reckons that I have to add to my initial wager, he is free to go to…”
“Sucker town,” Plinto helped me come up with a good destination for Bihan.
“Precisely,” I agreed and added: “I’d also like to point out that we’ve already fought five battles since the wager was made. It’s not my problem that Bihan was navel-gazing and counting crows and decided to make his bet only now. He needs to be quicker on his toes! Or do you want to say that that would infringe on some law or rule?”
“Not at all, this will all be taken into account! Thank you for your explanation,” the goblin backtracked shockingly quickly. He began to backpedal in a fit of bows: “All the best to you and may you have success in the arena!”
“What was that?” I asked myself aloud, but Plinto decided that the question was not a rhetorical one and required discussion.
“The Era of Dragons is trying to take Altameda from you!” The Rogue’s outrage knew no bounds. “It’s not enough that they’ve gobbled up all the other empires on their continent; they’re trying to get their dirty paws on ours! This is just insolence!”
“The hell do they need with Altameda?” I asked puzzled.
“The hell?” Plinto thought for several moments and then fixed me with a serious look and asked: “Do you know your castle inside and out?”
“What?”
Plinto didn’t bother listening to me, but waved his hand dismissively as if saying ‘what’s a Shaman gonna tell me, anyway?’ He called Anastaria and demanded another emergency meeting. Some mega epic plot had occurred to the Rogue.
“…And that’s why I believe that Bihan’s main objective is Altameda. Now we have to answer the question: ‘Why?’” Sitting in an armchair with a satisfied look, Plinto reached the end of his theory of what had happened. I shook my head. In my view, the Rogue had spent too much time in the game and was seeing spies, plots and conspiracies everywhere.
“Viltrius!” I called the goblin and asked him to tell us about the castle’s ‘dark areas.’ It’s better to establish that ‘white’ is ‘white,’ than constantly fret about the opposite.
“The entire territory of the castle is under my control and that of the hobgoblins,” the majordomo confirmed my belief that Altameda was no more than a castle. One that could teleport, but still a castle. “There are no closed areas, secret rooms, corridors or similar features in Altameda.”
“There, you see? As old man Freud used to say: ‘Sometimes a banana is just a banana,’” I held up a finger demonstratively, calling the people to a reasonable perception of reality, and yet Stacey’s next question to Viltrius and his subsequent response, forced me to freeze with my mouth agape.
“Are there any unregistered portals in the castle? Ones that don’t lead to anywhere?”
“Yes, three of them. At present, they are inactive and are therefore not included in the castle’s reports. Judging by their properties, the first portal will be activated once the castle reaches Level 30, the second at Level 40 and the third at Level 50.”
“Portals?” My initial shock passed and I fell onto my majordomo with questions. “Why am I finding out about this only now?”
“As I said, they’re inactive and weren’t included in the daily reports as a result,” Viltrius replied nonplussed. “To be honest, the existence of the portals came as a surprise to me as well. They appeared right after the castle reached Level 26. Considering that in addition to the portals, the castle also acquired new rooms — allowing Spiteful Gnum to outfit his workshop — I deemed these new additions as specifics of Altameda.”
“On the topic of global conspiracies,” Plinto drawled sarcastically as soon as we let Viltrius go. “The Corporation had never before introduced a castle that could simply teleport. It’s too simple and irrational. My heart senses that our mutual acquaintance has his own people among the game’s scenario designers. Of course no one can prove anything, but the fact remains — he knows a lot more about Altameda than we do.”
“It’s a pretty move with the wager,” Stacey agreed. “They got the announcer to just kind of mention that Altameda would be enough to call the raise and came up with this offer right after we’d trounced a duo that had been considered unbeatable until that moment…Had I a psychological profile of Mahan before the events of the Tomb, I wouldn’t doubt for a second that — on a wave of success, emotions and internal sense of justice — he’d take a wager like this. Only Bihan isn’t aware that Mahan’s changed quite a bit over the last two months. I wouldn’t say too much, but he’s different. Do you understand why Kei-Ten and Methodious lost now, Plinto? You think a duo that’s seen thousands of battles side by side doesn’t know how to deal with an ordinary Totem? Even one that spits fire? This was all arranged ahead of time with the single goal of getting Mahan to wager Altameda. To put it simply, the Solar Wind is the second most important castle for the Era of Dragons. Would Bihan really risk it? Please…”
“In that case, the million dollar question: How can we level up the castle three times within reasonable time constraints?” Plinto looked at me inquisitively. “Mahan?”
I reclined wearily in my favorite rocking throne, which the Corporation had once gifted me. Yet another unique thing added to the game for the sake of pleasure. However, if I were to follow Plinto’s and Stacey’s logic, after some millionth rock in my throne, a portal would pop open under my butt and I would plummet off into some unknown dimension.
“‘Mahan’ what ? I’m prepared to invest all my winnings in the castle. That’s about 300 million. But what’ll that give us? Let’s imagine that we’ll level up the castle and the portal will become active. Who’ll go inside? We don’t have the raid party for this. Shall we hire mercenaries? From Phoenix? Or bow down before Bihan? Insanity. Let’s imagine a different situation — phantoms will start crawling out of the portal. The same ones that had once protected Altameda when we first appeared at its walls. Who’ll defend the castle? Me? Plinto? Vimes and his pair of Tauren?”
“Stacey, did you already draft your will?” Plinto suddenly asked, turning to the girl. “The forecast has a high probability of a meteor shower today.”
My wife stared at the Rogue in puzzlement for several moments and the
n grinned broadly.
“Mahan is worried about his estate? Is that what you’re talking about?”
“What else? You’re a bad influence on him. Before you know it, our Shaman will start using his head, thinking and asking inconvenient questions. The horror!”
“I’m of the mind that it doesn’t make sense to rush the castle right now,” Stacey brought the conversation back to the topic at hand. “I’d leave it alone entirely actually. If a new level grants something to the castle, we had better be prepared for it. Being at a state of war with the entire continent while pursuing these investigations at the same time is too much of a luxury. Now, who wants dinner?”
“I pass,” Plinto shook his head negatively. “It’s time to take a bath and go to sleep. We’ll have to prove to everyone tomorrow that today’s victories were earned, not granted. And I hope you two do the same. Get some rest. If Mahan pulls off his plan with the fog, we’ll have a hell of a day ahead of us.”
Chapter Thirteen. The Pryke Copper Mine
“Welcome to battle!” Unlike in the private arena, there weren’t many spectators in the 2 vs. 2 arena for the Round of 32,768. As far as I could tell there weren’t any players at all — the noise here was being generated by an NPC audience which cheered as much for us as for our opponents (a duo of Rogues).
“May the strongest among you triumph!”
As per custom, I shielded us and we began awaiting our enemies’ attacks, continuing our discussion of our upcoming bouts as we did so. It didn’t matter whether yesterday’s bouts had been rigged or not: Our opponents had bet Unique items, and the jackpot had grown a lot in the process. Even though Silkodor and Chikan had wagered a mysterious, yet not-very-useful Level 100 ritual dagger — Methodious and Kei-Ten’s wager was so immense that I wanted to hop in the arena and defeat my own self to get my hands on it. When Stacey noticed the seemingly ordinary breastplate (or rather, 1/3 of a breastplate), she pressed me up against the wall and demanded I take it out of public circulation. In some sense I understood her — it’s difficult to risk losing an item from the Luminous Set. I even tried to sneak this ‘Luminous Breastplate Fragment (1 of 3)’ out of the pool, but the arena manager caught me, and warned me that the penalty would be a forced forfeit and a loss of something more valuable than mere Reputation. He was referring to status: I’d be marked as a player who didn’t keep his word. After all, I had called the players a bunch of hapless crabs, and Plinto and I still had to answer for my words. Thus it wasn’t mere reputation amid the NPCs that was at stake but status with the other players.
It was unclear whether Methodious and Kei-Ten had wagered this item on purpose or whether they merely wanted to show off what they had at their disposal. However, the end effect was that all the other players began to compete among each other for the chance to be the first to slaughter us. Initially, our challengers had been betting only simple and weak items. They were unique and all, but they were also low-level or largely useless. For example, a flower pot for a Florist that allowed the florist in question to forget about having to water the plants or repot them. The pot magically provided the perfect growing environment for any plant, allowing it to reach its greatest beauty. I wouldn’t dispute the idea that this item was indeed a great wonder, yet who needed it? You could count the number of florists in Barliona on one hand and given the item’s restrictions, there were even fewer ordinary people who could even use this item if they wanted to. In a word, this bet was unique and absolutely useless — which the system instantly established on its own and sent the duo that had bet it to the very back of the ‘kill Plinto & Mahan’ queue. And yet, any betting party was always free to change its bet! And now it seemed like they had just been waiting for the opportunity! When I entered the game, the first place in the queue for the private arena was held by a duo that had bet a small jewelry box, large enough to hold a few rings. No more. The system had appraised this box so highly that over the next few hours only places two through five changed, while the first place remained the same.
Our old friends Methodious and Kei-Ten, were in fourth place. Stacey cursed when she saw this. Fourth place, according to her, was the best position to gain maximum profit from the betting pool. This duo was so confident in itself as well as us (it’s worth pointing out) that they allowed three duos to step ahead of them in the queue. They wanted to maximize their final winnings. Why fourth and not fifth? So as not to risk some random rich kid beating their wager. These kids were playing smart…
“By the way, Mahan,” Plinto smirked when the Rogue duo fell on him with their knives and daggers. “I think we’ve gotten distracted. We’ve got a fight on our hands here, seems like…”
“That’s true. Let me help you with that!” I replied amicably and one of the Rogues went flying into bits and pieces — only a Paladin could survive two Heavy Battle Shadows at once.
You have completed the Round of 2048 of the 2 vs. 2 arena…
We encountered no problems in the ordinary arena. Druids, Death Knights, Warriors, Paladins with their Reflection and bubbles, Hunters, Mages, Rogues — the combinations were diverse, but the bouts ended the same way — our opponents played the roles of balloons and we the needles. They’d go flying in little pieces across the entire arena.
As soon as we left the arena, the system informed us of another challenge:
New challenge received. Mahan/Plinto vs. Kalatea/Antsinthepantsa. The bout will take place in 60 minutes in the arena. Scale: Level 30.
“Hum,” drawled Plinto reading the notification. “Mahan, are you aware that we’re missing the entire tournament because of this additional arena you set up? There’re exciting events under way over there somewhere, and meanwhile we’re over here toiling away in this arena you’ve created and all the headaches that come with it.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked surprised.
“I’m talking about how until I hit Level 50, I have nothing. Not a single skill or power. I would have to rely entirely on my HP pool to survive, and uh, well…I’m a Rogue…”
“WHAT?! Oh no,” I looked at my own stats and barely suppressed my outrage. “All of my Shadows require at least Level 50 too. What’s the deal here…”
“The deal is that players who are just starting out and are really low-level can’t play for Shadow. You know who caused this? Our lovely singer! Lori caused some kind of conflagration in her arboretum and the Corporation began changing the mechanics. To be honest, I figured that the changes would only affect starting players but…Damn! What about your Spirits?”
“Nope! Unavailable. They’re locked. I’m at Hatred status with everyone, remember?”
“So we won’t have any shields. Or healing. All right, we’ll take that as a given. There’s always your Totem and our racial abilities. It’d be nice to know who the hell Kalatea and Antsinthepantsa are.”
“They’re Shamans,” I said sadly. “Two Harbingers. They know who my Totem is and have no doubt figured out how they’ll neutralize him. Everyone must have seen yesterday’s bouts by now. By the way, those two will be able to blink around. Like I used to. And who the hell knows whether Blink is allowed in the arena or not! After all, they can only blink on their continent, but we’re in…”
“Astrum brought its obelisk too. So they will be able to blink. That’s the first thing. The second thing is that the arena is neutral territory as far as the continents are concerned, and any ability available at your home territory will be available here. Fun times, eh?”
“You could say that again.”
“All right, let’s go to the arena. We have an hour to figure out how we’re supposed to win this one. I’m not about to forfeit without a fight…”
Design mode welcomed me with a terrifying emptiness. That is, not design mode itself — that was full of various items I had made — but rather the absolute darkness of design mode in which I had worked with the Spirits and later with the Shadows. As hard as I tried to summon a single Shadow or Spirit, nothing
worked and all the embodiments I’d made earlier didn’t work. They didn’t have enough life!
The Shaman has three hands…
Your access to the Leprosarium is blocked.
Your access to the Astral Plane is blocked.
Tumbling out of yet another trance, I had nothing left to do but curse. Nothing worked! I couldn’t wield either the Spirits or the Shadows at Level 30! Despairing, I tried to do something with the Supreme Spirits or the Brethren directly, but encountered no success. The programmers had earned their keep — everything was blocked.
What to do? For the first time in a long time, I didn’t have any idea for how to get myself out of this situation. Damn it! I wish I could blow them all up with Armageddon and…
Hold on!
I opened design mode and hesitated…I was so afraid that my idea might not work that I began to do everything with the patience and diligence of a sapper. It seemed as if any inaccurate movement, gesture or even breath might spoil the final result. When I opened my eyes, I saw Plinto blinking before me. Yes! I did it! I know how we can beat Antsinthepantsa and Kalatea! The important thing was to draw them in until they stood near me!
“Plinto! I have an idea! We can win, but I need to run over to Altameda really quickly!” I explained my plan to the Rogue and received another portion of wry laughter in response:
“You know, Mahan, even if they force us to fight Level 400 players while scaling us down to Level 1, I suppose I’ll have to join you and fight alongside. Go on and run to the bank — we have very little time…”
“Welcome to battle! May the strongest among you triumph!”
Two women stood facing us at the other end of the arena. The founder and chief ideologue of the Shaman class — an enormous green orc — and her brightest student, the hope and light of the Shamanic movement, the apostate Antsinthepantsa — in the form of an ordinary girl. Why apostate? Because she had fled our continent in search of a better life and a better game for herself…
Clans War (The Way of the Shaman: Book #7) LitRPG Series Page 31