Labyrinth to Tartarus: A LitRPG Saga (The Eternal Journey Book 3)
Page 11
Bingo Bango. “I have a Quest I need to fulfill,” he said. “It is called Oath-Breaker. What can you do to help me get it done?”
“Why, you little…” Vice sputtered before remembering he was in the presence of his fellow cosmic beings and brought himself under control. “We cannot complete the Quest for you, Templar. But if you figure out how to undo the oath, the Arbiters will not punish you or the woman in question This once. That will be my boon”
“We will assist you within our power,” Vitara added, earning her a frown from the Arbiter. “We will also accept Girl-Has’ new oath of service, although should she break it we will be most angry with both of you. That will be our boon.”
Goody, I’m putting my reputation and life on the line for a psychopath. Would have been easier to just kill her.
“It would have been easier indeed,” Vitara said. “But the easier path is often the wrong one.”
I just had to start thinking thoughts.
“You will need her trust, and she yours,” the goddess went on. “And if either of you breaks that trust, all is lost.”
Which tells me she thinks I’m doing the right thing. That’s a relief.
“Results matter far more than intentions, Twilight Templar,” she added, just to confuse things even more. “Which reminds me: if you turn our chapel into a proper Temple in your Domain, one dedicated to the Triune, we will overlook your little flirtation with the Powers of Death.”
He bowed deeply to her. “As you wish, Your Exalted Divinity.”
Hawke turned to the ugly bear-Elf-centaur critter. The Fae loved to make chimeras by mixing bits and pieces from animals and people, and apparently weren’t above modifying their own bodies as well. Akaton glared angrily at him for a long moment before speaking in High Fey, which Hawke did not speak. Some of the words were the same as Common Fey – ‘death’ and ‘pain’ among them – but the grammar was much more complex, with words and tenses changing depending on the social status of everyone involved, among other things.
The Arbiter translated: “Akaton will grant you this boon: he will order his followers to abandon the Shadowy Foothills and move to a new Realm. In effect, he is ceding that land to you, should you prove to be strong enough to take it. He will do this in return for defeating the core, and also to reward your upgrading the Death Temple in your Domain.”
“It is a small boon,” Vitara said. “Most of the Woodlings in the Foothills have perished or turned to the Revenant for leadership. But that ancient forest offers great rewards for the Lord of the Sunset Valley, as long as he is wise enough to make an agreement with the ancient powers that dwell there and are also threatened by the Undeath infestation.”
Akaton spoke again. “The Blood God does not command the Evergreen Circle that holds sway over the forests. You must seek an accommodation from it on your own.”
Hawke bowed again. He was being used as a playing piece in a game he still didn’t understand, but the pay was good, and the Quest was one that he had to fulfill anyway. Laryn – Hawke decided to refer to the Revenant as Larry from now on – would not leave the Domain alone. The Undead had to be dealt with. Getting paid for something he would have had to do sooner or later was as good a deal as one could get in the Realms.
“I will do as you have asked of me today,” he said formally. “I will enter the Claw of Tartarus Dungeon and I will capture, purify, or destroy its Dungeon Core, I do so swear. For the third and binding time, I do so swear.”
He didn’t promise to destroy Revenant Larry, and noticed that the gathering of super-powerful entities didn’t ask him to do that job. They probably thought he couldn’t do it. And maybe they were right. He had failed once already.
“Spoken and witnessed,” Vice said. “And don’t forget that you might – just might – manage to break an oath between two Eternals, especially one that had a degree of coercion involved, but if you play stupid games with oaths given to higher-order beings, you will regret it for the rest of your life. Which will likely be a very short time.”
“I understand, Arbiter.”
Quest Accepted.
“Anyone has something else to say?” the Arbiter asked the gathered deities. “No? Very well, meeting adjourned.”
Everything faded back to black, but Hawke caught one last bit of conversation, one that was clearly not meant for him:
“I was beginning to like the little bastard,” Vice said. “But I think this is the end of the line for him.”
“He may yet surprise us all,” Vitara replied.
* * *
Hawke returned to the party and gave them a quick rundown of his meeting.
“And that’s the deal,” he concluded. “I know none of you signed up for raiding a sixteenth-level Dungeon, let alone going all the way to the end. If anyone wants to call it quits, just say the word. I’ll lead them out of the Foothills when I go meet Nadia and Gzzatt tomorrow.”
Nobody spoke. Olaf Goode looked worried but determined, and Grognard just shrugged. Hawke hadn’t expected any of his regular Party pals to turn back, and they didn’t disappoint him. Tava craved the challenge and the rewards the Path to Power brought her, and Gosto’s patron deity would be as concerned with the Undead invasion of the Foothills as Akaton, if not more so. Alba just nodded absently; most of her attention was on Girl-Has No-Name. The local Assassin knew there was more to Girl than met the eye, although Hawke hadn’t filled her in, mainly because Alba could be impulsive. The last thing he needed was her going after Girl when he was trying to turn her into an ally.
The Nerf Herder assassin’s grin didn’t reach her eyes. She gave Hawke a cold, measuring look and said nothing.
No burn, kid. I’m trying to help her. To make her, uh, smell right, I guess.
He curled up on Hawke’s plate pauldrons and promptly fell asleep.
“All right, we’ll have an early lunch here and head on out,” he said. “There is a decent campsite a mile from the Dungeon. We should reach it by nightfall.”
The next morning, they would invade the Claw of Tartarus.
Sixteen
“Alone at last,” Girl said when the two of us reached a clearing out of sight from the campsite. “Are you in the market for another wife? I might be interested in settling down.”
“Heh. I’m good, thanks.”
“Let’s get down to business then,” Girl replied.
Her fake grin disappeared, leaving only tightly set lips and a cold stare in its place. Hawke’s Advanced Mana Sight was on, and he could see that the assassin was afraid. The emotion was muted, just like every other feeling he had seen coming from her. He suspected that she suffered from some sort of emotional ‘deafness;’ something loud and intense enough had deadened her sensitivity for all forms of stimulation, both good and bad. Which meant that he was almost certainly going to regret what he was going to try next.
“I think I can remove the oath’s magical binding,” he told her. “But I’m going to have to get inside your head. And you’ll get a look inside mine.”
“I didn’t agree to that,” she said, her tone gone from cold to freezing.
“I need to see the oath-taking, examine the magic behind it. Then I can take it apart.”
“How do you propose to do this?”
“I have a spell. Communion. Here, let me show it to you.”
Hawke called up the spell description and willed it to appear on a floating ‘screen’ that he allowed Girl to see:
Communion (Mind)
Time to Cast: 30(23) seconds. Cooldown: 10(8) minutes. Cost: 50(38) Mana. Duration: 2 minutes. Range: 50 feet. Effect: Links you to another mind. Both participants will have full access to their memories, thoughts, and emotions. Unwilling participants have a 5% chance per point of Willpower over 10 to resist; add +5% for each level difference. Drugs, pai
n, or unconsciousness can reduce the target’s chances to resist the spell.
“Mind magic,” Girl commented. “Haven’t seen anyone practicing that school since I’ve been here. And I get around.”
“I bet. If we go through with this, you might even find out how I learned it. The connection goes both ways. Rummaging through people’s memories is not easy, though. I just want to examine the oath, and if you concentrate on that memory while the spell is on, I should be able to get there, do my analysis, and get out.”
“But there is no guarantee that is all you will see.”
“No. And there is another catch.”
“Do tell.”
Hawke sighed. Full disclosure, he told himself. “When I’m inside your head, I’ll be able to kill you. Final Death kill you. That is how I took out the Necromancer.”
Safer doesn’t make it right.
“You don’t make things easy for anybody, do you?” Girl-Has said in a mild tone, although her emotions were as bright as Hawke had ever seen them. “Why tell me this? Do you realize that if word of that ability goes out, it will give every Eternal a damn good reason to come gunning for you?”
“I wasn’t planning on posting it on the Guild newsletter. I figured you can keep a secret. And that by showing you some trust maybe I could get some back.”
“Not to mention letting me know that if I step out of line you can kill me permanently. It’s a pretty good move, actually. Works on a lot of levels. Offering me your trust while threatening me at the same time. Not bad.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that!
Saturnyx told him.
“Kaiser told me not to underestimate you,” Girl went on.
Maybe I can get her to tell my friends and loved ones, whose favorite term of endearment for me is ‘dumbass.’
Thanks.
“I know it’s asking a lot,” Hawke concluded. “Your choice. The other alternative is going to the chapel of the Triune goddesses and begging for their help, but from what Lumina told me, there is only so much they can do.”
“And you have personal talks with goddesses, too. I’ve seen the High Temple of Light in Akila. Huge golden dome, as impressive as a Gothic cathedral. And I bet the Arch-Priest of Lumina doesn’t have as many chats with his goddess as you do. You’re something else, aren’t you?”
“No need to sweet-talk me, Girl. I’m not looking for another wife or mistress.”
“I was thinking out loud.” Her fake smile returned. “If I were some ugly dude, would you have gone through all this trouble to help me, or just snuffed me out?”
“I don’t know,” he said, but the way the question stung him proved that she had struck a nerve. “Maybe I am a sexist romantic. Or just sexist. Lucky you. If they were in my position, any of my lady friends would have probably squashed you like a cockroach.”
“Shows who’s got the brains in the family.”
“Just because I’m giving you this chance, don’t think I will hesitate to kill you on the spot if you ever become a threat. I’m not that much of a romantic.”
“I guess you’re not.” Girl shrugged. “Let’s do this.”
“Are you sure?”
Her fake grin returned. “You promised to help me. If nothing else, your self-image will ensure that you keep your word. That’s the best thing about all you ‘good guys.’ You are very predictable.”
Hawke shrugged and began casting the spell.
* * *
He tried not to look at anything other than the memory he needed. What little he saw was as bad as he’d expected.
Girl’s childhood memories were radioactive. That was the best description Hawke could give them; that was where all her intense emotions were located, and he avoided that part of her like the plague. Something terrible – or several terrible things, more likely – had happened to her at a young age, and from then on she had stopped being a normal human being. Some monster or monsters had done that to her, and in the process turned her into one.
Hawke skipped through that part, as well as several killings, including two that had happened on Earth; he didn’t want to know the details. He was afraid that if he saw all the things she had done, he would be tempted to kill her, damning himself along the way. Could she ever be redeemed? He didn’t know. He knew that the new oath she had sworn – to a trio of goddesses rather than a guild leader – would keep her from harming innocents. But he didn’t like any of it. He had assumed responsibility for a cold-blooded killer.
The important memory came into focus. Girl stood in front of Kaiser Wrecker, the imposing leader of the Nerf Herders, and swore to obey any Guild official of higher rank than hers. The oath was elaborate and completely one-sided; all the duties fell on her, and the Guild offered nothing in return other than use of its facilities, as allowed by higher-ranking Guild officials. Loyalty demanded but not returned. Fairness was as rare in the Realms as it was on Earth, if not rarer, but unbalanced contracts were easier to break, much like an unbalanced load is easier to topple.
Hawke used his Advanced Mana Sight on the contract, saw how every time Girl repeated the oath – the number three had a mystical significance that he didn’t understand but could not deny – magic bonds of Death, Life, Mind and Order magic settled over her, mixing with her inner Mana, and linking together around her solar plexus Chakra. The oath was a spell, but it wasn’t cast by the participants but by an outside force: either an Arbiter or just the system the Arbiters controlled. The idea that spells could be cast by something impersonal, like a computer program, was intriguing. Inscriptions worked a little bit like that; you pre-cast the spell, then ‘encoded’ it on a surface, to be released under specific circumstances. To make an Inscription, you needed to add one conditional element. And comparing the one Inscription he knew to the magical oath, he quickly discovered the vow had conditional elements as well.
In short, there were two conditions that would break the oath and trigger the punishment spell. They were simple: attack any of the higher-ranking Guild officials, or disobey one of their orders. Either act would unleash a magical attack that would kill the target and destroy their Identity at the same time. The killing attack was a variation of a Death Curse spell. And the Identity destroyer was a Mind magic effect that worked like the pure Mana attack Hawke had used to zero out the Necromancer, destroying his memories until nothing remained. He mulled that over for a bit until a plan came together.
He ended the Communion spell; he and Girl had been sitting in the clearing, facing each other. They both slumped in relief at being alone with their thoughts. Girl was glaring at him, though.
“You lied to me,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t mention you have a monster of some sort watching over your mind. The naked woman with spiked chains instead of hair.”
“Oh. Yeah, she’s with me. Didn’t think you’d be running into her.”
“I just wanted to take a look at your mind, and there she was, threatening to skin me alive.”
“She is kind of possessive.”
Girl shrugged. “I wasn’t going to do anything to you. Don’t think I could if I wanted to. But next time, let me know that you have a watch dog. And that she bites.”
“She’s not a dog. Anyway, I think I’ve figured out how to break the oath.”
“I’m all ears.”
Hawke briefly explained the mechanisms of the magical enforcement system. Girl clearly wanted to know how he could analyze magical constructs, but didn’t ask, probably figuring – rightly – that Hawke wouldn’t answer her questions. Instead, she listened to his
plan.
“Looks like there is a good chance – maybe better than fifty-fifty – that you will screw this up and get me killed for good,” she said when it was over.
“I think the odds are better than that, but yeah, it’s not a sure thing.”
“The mind-wipe effect,” she went on. “Can you target specific memories?”
“Yes, while we are linked via the Communion spell.”
“Can you wipe out, oh, everything from ages five to eleven?”
“I don’t know how much Identity that will erase from you.”
“I have a lot to spend. Haven’t died once since I got here. My Identity is currently at 42.”
“Jesus.”
That was the highest Identity he’d heard of. All the Eternals in Orom were at best in the low-twenties, with several in the single digits.
“In other words, I don’t mind losing some of it.”
“I’m not a shrink, as I may have mentioned already. I don’t know what the side effects will be,” he told her. “I don’t know if forced amnesia is the best way to deal with trauma.”
“I’ve been to shrinks. I ran circles around all of them. None of those bastards helped me at all. Ended up sleeping with one of them, and then ruining his career and marriage, just because I could. The other two, I just ruined their careers. Served them right.”
I’ve got to keep in mind I’m dealing with an actual psycho here.
“I don’t know if mind-wiping your past will help you feel better,” Hawke said.
“It can’t make me feel worse.”
“All right. Let’s swear our new oaths and get started.”
Seventeen
The plan was simple enough. The execution had a lot of fiddly bits.
First, Hawke disarmed the ‘kill’ component of the magical contract, using his Spell Deconstruction ability. Since he knew a version of the spell in question, it didn’t take much to ‘deflate’ it and make its Mana dissipate. Then he tried to identify the Identity-destroying spell – and failed. That wasn’t unexpected; whatever magic was being used had to be too high-powered for a fourteenth-level scrub to master. But that shouldn’t be a problem, hopefully. It would have been nice to just deconstruct the whole oath, but his plan didn’t require that.