Gloominess +2: Congregation. A LitRPG series: Book 2

by Elian Tars

  Okay… Stop… These are just negative effects, nothing more. I need to keep it together and not get irritated over silly things.

  Easier said than done! Maybe I shouldn’t even have brought it to such a state. Didn’t I sleep under one roof with drunk Ilsa? I did. Why didn’t I seize the moment? Maybe I could make a deal with Una to help each other with satisfying this pressing need, purely like allies.

  I clenched my fists and breathed out slowly. I went to the tub and put my head into the water. After cooling off, I stretched my neck, breathed out once more and closed my eyes.

  I should stop messing around. I couldn’t have done anything back then. This was a dark world, in which everyone, more or less, had a God on their side and helped the said God with their plans and intrigues. I didn’t trust any of the girls enough to spend a night with them. You could start developing feelings and not even notice when you become a puppet in their Patrons’ hands, be they celestial or of the mortal plane.

  Damn it, I trusted only Vella, Berg, and the zombie-couple, to a degree. But none of them, luckily, could help me deal with my little problem.

  Okay. I’ll have to take the matters into my own hands. Crap! Not like THAT, damn it! Although, that is an option… Let’s leave it as a last resort. I had some ideas about what to do once the need got too much to handle. I found a logical and a more or less safe solution.

  I just hoped that I don’t lash out at anyone because of this damned irritation.

  I cast Tranquility of Darkness on myself. I felt somewhat better. I could drink a potion atop of it, but it could backfire. I couldn’t say that I didn’t feel the physical impact of the unrealized need during my stay here in the dark world. However, the circumstances were never right for such things, nor was I really distracted by the unwashed village girls or Gleams of Rugus. Unfortunately, the damned debuff made it much harder to look away and stand my ground.

  A knock on the door brought me back to reality.

  “Yes? Who’s there?”

  “It’s Shawn, Senior Disciple! Are you busy?”

  I unlatched the door and, half-opening it, I saw the hesitant chief standing on the porch.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked dryly.

  “We, eh… Decided to celebrate our victory… And… Well… Joining the God of Darkness. We also need to hold a memorial service the dead. Anyways, everything will be ready soon. You are welcome to join us. We’ll be glad to see you. Besides, we could chat about our little plan, right?”

  “Yeah, right,” I nodded. “I got it. Where should I come?”

  “We will wine and dine in front of the temple,” beaming, Shawn hurried away. It looked like he wasn’t sure whether I would approve of his decision or not.

  What a naïve man. Why would I be against it? Such gatherings could only deepen the bonds between people and boost the morale. I could also use the opportunity to potentially solve my problem.

  It was almost dark out; there was light only near the temple, illuminated by rushlights, candles and homemade torches. I observed the restored walls of the shed-like building. As far as I knew, the villagers hadn’t patched up the holes. But if you looked closer, you could see glimmering dark circles right where the breaches had been yesterday. It looked like the temple was healing its wounds on its own, getting powers from its new master — the God of Darkness.

  “Have you decided to have some fun, too?” I heard Mara’s mocking voice behind me. The girl was looking around approvingly, clearly enjoying the feast. Kane followed behind her, leaving impression that she had forced him to come here.

  “Some, maybe. I also have some work to do,” I replied.

  We didn’t have a chance to continue our conversation as the chief popped out in front of us, seemingly out of nowhere. He seemed to be a little tipsy, but behaved quite respectfully and showed us to our seats. Of the three long tables we took the one in the center, of course. I was at the head of the table; Kane was on my right, and Mara on his. Shawn appointed himself the Senior Disciple’s left hand. Well, the people needed to be reminded of the social order.

  “Let me pour you some wine, sir,” chirped someone’s voice. Turning my head, I saw a pretty girl’s radiant smile.

  Villager Rira

  Level 5

  HP: 120/120

  This wasn’t the first time today that I saw her pretty face, but only now could I appreciate her figure, accentuated by a simple grey dress; and these lovely ribbons in her hair…

  “Yes, of course,” I answered, moving the empty mug to her.

  “I hope you’ll like it,” she smiled, filling the vessel with the purple liquid, “it’s the best wine we could find; from the private stock of the former chief.”

  “And you’re wasting it on someone like me?” I chuckled and winked at the girl. Good Old Man! What the hell was I doing?! Where my intellectual abilities at stake as well?!

  Throwing a glance at me, the girl ran away. It took me great efforts to turn my head to the other side and not stare after her.

  “Well, it looks like the award has found the hero.” Mara said, chuckling slyly. She was also rather beautiful; at the right angle, you couldn’t really see her torn abdomen… What the hell?! Was I going crazy?!

  “She kept talking about how you saved her life,” Kane said dejectedly.

  “Yeah! She said that you swooped in like a white knight and defeated the dreadful creature!” Mara said, taking a sip of wine.

  “What do you mean?” I had no idea what they were on about.

  “When you came to our aid, Senior Disciple,” said Shawn, who had been listening to our conversation, “you killed the decayed beast that was going to gobble up Rira. You struck not only the monster’s heart, but the silly girl’s, too.” He chuckled and then hastily added: “Don’t get me wrong, she’s a good, beautiful girl, though she’s callow and wears old clothes… She’s an orphan, you know?”

  “I wasn’t raised take advantage of thankful girls,” I blurted out.

  “Take advantage?” Shawn and Mara said almost simultaneously. Even Kane gave me a puzzled look.

  “Well, you know… Shameful premarital affairs, no?”

  The three continued staring at me.

  “And what’s so shameful about them?” asked Mara without a hint of embarrassment. “Who cares about that?”

  So, that’s their opinion on those matters... I thought. It’s quite possible that things are different in other countries though couldn’t say that that seemed immoral to me; traditions on Earth were vastly different in the medieval times. Liberal opinions like this one were established only in the latter half of the twentieth century, and only in some places. Hell, some places were still stuck in the medieval times.

  While Shawn was giving his solemn speech, I was trying to figure out why I was still sitting at the table when I had the opportunity to easily and effortlessly get rid of my problem. It was inconvenient, to put it mildly, to live with such a chaos in my head. And there was a girl, ready to do everything herself…

  And my body was yearning for her. But the remaining 25% of my intelligence were ordering me to stick with the plan. Not to mention that having her following me around all day must’ve looked strange to everyone else.

  On the other hand, I could wind up full-on paranoid if I continued thinking this way. The girl just wanted to thank her savior!

  “… and only owing to the powers of the God of Darkness and his Disciples we could live through those horrors,” Shawn kept speaking. “With their help, we’ll become stronger and able to defend ours and the lives of our families!” he lifted his mug and people replied to him in a loud chorus.

  “More wine?” The “waitress” Rira reappeared beside me once the rapturous cries subsided. I didn’t refuse. Filling it up to the brim, the girl put the pitcher down and lowered her gaze. She wasn’t leaving. Was she waiting for me to talk first?

  But I kept silent. I didn’t even look in her direction; though it was hard to ignore such a pretty g
irl. Paranoia paired with lowered intelligence and alcohol was a disaster waiting to happen.

  “Senior Disciple,” she gave caved in and spoke in a low voice. “I owe you my life. Thank you. Tell me, how I can thank you for that?” She leaned over to me and whispered, almost touching my earlobe with her lips. “You can ask for anything.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek as hard as I could. It was very painful, and inconvenient; it would’ve been easier to bite my lips, but somebody was always looking at me. I shouldn’t show my weakness.

  The pain helped me banish the thoughts. I answered with a smile.

  “I ask you to serve the God of Darkness faithfully and loyally.”

  The girl opened her pretty mouth to say something, but manly, loud that had overpowered the noise of the feast, spoke first.

  “Senior Disciple! What about our training?

  I looked around with interest, dying to know who that zealous man was.

  Villager Greiv

  Level 7

  The red-bearded man. Why wasn’t I surprised?

  I held a speech, describing my plan of development for Ilyenta. For the time being, they should focus on domesticities but only to the extent that was necessary to provide them with enough food. They shouldn’t strive for the surplus. The hell with the trading! Though, according to the chief, the merchants hadn’t come here for a long time anyway. They wouldn’t pay taxes, and if the baron protested, I would talk to him personally. If he was a smart man, he would understand that a stronghold capable of keeping the Decay at bay was far more useful than a bunch of peasants that could be taxed.

  Some of the villagers tried to protest, but the others, under Shawn’s lead, quickly talked them round to my way of thinking.

  “Nobody came to help us, except the God of Darkness and his Disciples!” the chief said, thus augmenting his and my power.

  “So what now? We’ll work in the fields from time to time?” said an astonished old man.

  “As much as it’s necessary for you not to starve to death. Weren’t you listening, old Beck?” the chief sighed tiredly.

  “Uncle Shawn, Senior Disciple, speaking of food…” Erg, a scrawny fellow with a bold patch on the top of his head, spoke unsurely. He had cried out something before, but I didn’t remember him.

  “Speak!” I allowed.

  “I… Eh… Showed my zeal, so to say,” he mumbled. “And... Eh… You all saw how the bush bloomed… By the Lake, you know?”

  “Spill it, man! Cut to the chase!” Shawn couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “So, I planted a potato near the Lake this afternoon,” the fellow blurted out. “And now its tops are a palm’s height already. Do you get it, huh?”

  Everyone finally figured out what Erg was trying to say. I hadn’t seen such a mixture of astonishment and delight on the faces of Ilyenta’s people even when I was creating the Lake of Grace or healing their friends. People immediately started discussing future prospects. They don’t say for nothing: “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and unto God the things that are God’s.”

  Taking advantage of the commotion, Rira came to me again. Under Mara’s quizzical glance, I stoically brushed her off again, not fully realizing why I was doing that.

  Once people started getting tired and leaving, I dragged the chief aside.

  “Look, Shawn,” I said coldly, looking him in the eyes. “You do understand that you owe me and the God of Darkness for your new position.”

  “Of course, Senior Disciple,” he nodded in fear.

  “So,” I continued, “if you betray me, or don’t keep your mouth shut, you are going to regret it. Do you understand that?” More frantic nods. “Very well. I think that you and your family really liked your sudden carrier growth. Unless you want to hit rock bottom again, don’t do anything stupid. You got that?”

  “Yes, sir!” Poor man.

  I smiled and smacked his shoulder.

  “Don’t be afraid. Everything is going to be okay. So long as you’re on my side at least. And now, I need you to answer me a personal question.”

  Chapter 22

  The Guest

  I managed to deal with my little problem after all. Since the very beginning I was thinking about using a professional’s services. Even in such a small village there had to be a lady specialized in such matters. However, I decided that I shouldn’t risk my reputation as I didn’t want the congregation to think that I was 100% “one of the guys”.

  So I chose as my target an inconspicuous widow with two kids. If people found out about us, nobody would give her a dirty look. At least, we helped each other this way. I even gave ten gold pieces, which was a very large sum of money for common villagers.

  “Take it, and don’t think of it as of a payment for the night,” I said in a voice that brooked no objections, “Consider it to be a gift for your children from a friend.”

  Yes, it wasn’t very romantic, but it had to be so in a world in which you got unfair debuffs just because you didn’t go to brothels. In any case, I was able to fill the scale up to 90% and even got a small bonus.

  Euphoria

  All the stats are temporarily increased by 7.5%.

  The green part of the scale began at 70%, and was now at 15 out 25. If 15 gave the bonus of 7.5% to all stats, then the maximum should be 12.5%. I think. I just had to find out how to 100% fill the “bar.

  But that was a task for my future self. I had more pressing matters to attend to now.

  I spent in the following day training. Teaching the villagers how to use their inventory was an easy task, though the end result looked pretty funny as only a few of them were able to learn how to mentally open the correct menu. Not everybody was able to understand the word “Inventory”. But it was in human nature to adapt to everything, and they found a way.

  “Bag!”

  “Pocket!”

  “Stock!”

  “Stash!”

  Those were some of the most popular alternatives that I happened to hear. Seeing a crowd of a hundred people cry out something and materialize a mug out of thin air with a satisfied smirk on their faces must’ve looked pretty crazy.

  It didn’t matter how silly they looked. The most important thing was that it worked. In time, they’ll get accustomed to using the inventory easily and without spending so much effort on such a simple action.

  It was a pity though that the villagers had only one slot in their inventories. Kane said that would get a second one once they reached level 25, and the third one on level 45.

  “It’s like that for everyone who’s not a Disciple or doesn’t use artifacts,” the necromancer explained indifferently. As for himself, his inventory got considerably bigger when he discovered the ancient powers inside him. And it got even bigger when the Old Man made him his Disciple.

  Such limitations for usual Followers once again proved their status and significance to Gods. I proposed my idea to Kane and got an unambiguous reply.

  “Of course. Gods are not all-mighty, they can’t endow every man they see with a full set of his skills. When we use a skill, we directly use the powers of a God. And though we partially compensate by losing mana, HP or…” he grimace, “energy, it isn’t enough to cover all of the Patron’s losses.”

  He confirmed my guess that spent mana went directly to a Patron. I ascertained that God’s powers had a limit.

  It was funny to see the necromancer’s reaction to the word “energy” being used to refer to one of the three parameters. The energy-bar and the energy surrounding us were two different things. The first one was a rather small part of the second, it was a term used by the system. And the second was… I was sure this energy could be called differently: “breath of the world”; chi; prana; whichever you preferred. The system didn’t define it.

  In addition to the basics of spacial magic I tried to teach them how to use Power Strike. As this was a basic skill and not one granted by a God, it shouldn’t affect the Old Man too much. The energy spent on
using it would pour out into the world and merge with the surrounding energy. Such a curious paradox this all was.

  About twenty people mastered the Power Strike. The same amount of them promised “not to give up and cope!” The rest started complaining that “it was inconvenient to wave a pitchfork”.

  Fine, they can choose their primary weapon for themselves.

  As a result, we had about forty people with pitchforks, about thirty with axes, fifteen with clubs and the same amount with knives. All of them joyfully slashed each other till there was only one left. I then healed them, and the fight began once again.

  It would have been easier to send people to the source and not spend my mana on them, but all the free space near the Lake was occupied by potatoes. If Shawn’s guesstimates were correct, they could be harvested every twenty-four hours. Therefore, it was easier for me to go to accelerate my mana regeneration, than let a crowd of people trample the crops.

  Though I concentrated on training everyone else, I didn’t forget about myself either — I sparred ten times with Kane. The melancholic necromancer agreed without demur to such a pastime. Though the guy loved peace and quiet, he was too clever to miss an opportunity to become a little bit stronger.

  To Mara’s disappointment, the score between me and Kane was of six to four in my favor. It could’ve been of seven to three, but in the last fight, being about to win, I let myself experiment and replaced my usual pitchfork with a crossbow.

  “That doesn’t mean anything!” the girl cried out when we finished training. “You wouldn’t stand a chance against Kane in a real fight!”

  “Mara, calm down,” he put his hand on her shoulder, but didn’t argue with her.

  “I hope that we won’t have to fight for real then,” I smiled.

  It would be stupid to argue and remind her that Kane’s main trump cards, Wights, were useless against Tranquility of Darkness. Sure, the dead and the necromancer together could take off some of my HP until I “calm” them. However, quickly finishing them off would give me a chance to face Kane one on one and win. As a last resort, I could use the Altar of Light provided that it’s charged.