The Long Road to Karn (Realm of Arkon, Book 5)
Page 20
How much is 'not much'? What have I become?
Let's just say those girls survived last night thanks exclusively to their Ishtar amulets and their devotion to my mother. Not that I'd expect any different from lower ones, she spat with scorn. They didn't even sense the Shadow of an Elder Demon in you.
Is there any way to roll it back? I inquired with hope. Are you saying I can't even bed succubi anymore?
Why would that be? she snorted. Of course you can. They're perfectly expendable. Plus or minus a hundred—what do you care?
Bloody hell... I took a deep breath, then another pull on my pipe. Never again, you hear me? Never do that again! I'm not a demon in the full sense of the word, and some of these initiatives of yours are not welcome. I'm not keen on killing anyone needlessly, and sentient creatures are not expendable to me!
All right, dear, don't stress so hard. It's really not so bad. Ishtar amulets only cost fifty gold a piece in Iskhart, and if need be I can boost even a lower one so that 'miss right for the night' stays in one piece. I promise. And if you find a half-breed or even a quarter-breed, they wouldn't be in any danger. Oh, and women like Janam—the one Yllial told you about—they'll be all the happier for it.
I don't want to talk about it anymore, I said gloomily, reflecting on the take-the-bull-by-the-horns nature of the wife sent me by Providence.
The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that I shouldn't resent her for this—she really had wanted the best for me, only our notions of "best" weren't quite aligned. So why worry about what you couldn't change anyway? Nothing truly terrible had happened, thank Hart—everyone was still alive.
Taking another deep drag, I chuckled and said.
Thank you for last night, Jaelitte. It was indeed... magical.
You don't even know how many magical nights there are in your future, my succubus wife chuckled softly.
I shudder to imagine it, knocking the pipe out into a dedicated tray, I rose from the bed. But now I really do have to work.
She's actually correct in her reasoning, I thought as I settled behind the writing desk in the corner. The stronger our tandem, the more feared and respected we would be in the future. And she hadn't broken any promises, either. So what if the girls were trembling like leaves in the wind when coming in to clean up, fearing that I may call them over for another session? She didn't give a damn about that, and why should I? The demon in me, at least—as for the human, it was sometimes useful to push him off into the background. Again, had anything truly terrible happened? The answer was an unequivocal "no." The one thing that kept bothering me, however, was that Jaelitte had taken it upon herself without even bothering to ask me, and I hoped that she wouldn't be able to ignore or circumvent my forbidding her any such initiatives going forward. It wouldn't hurt her to be on a short leash for a while, at least until I got stronger. To be sure, I realized that she was simply trying to express her gratitude the best way she knew how, but I was of a mind to nip such things in the bud. I was the man in the relationship, after all, and I was determined to do things my way. In the meantime, I'd still need to keep a close eye on my bride, who, judging by last night's display, had become quite a bit more powerful with the recovered soul fragment. Thankfully, she shouldn't be defying a direct order. I thought back to Lilit and her offer of alliance, which seemed especially prudent now, as it was becoming abundantly clear that my fulfilling this mysterious prophecy would turn me into a target for at least some of the gods of this realm. Not that it dampened my resolve even a little bit. With Jaelitte as my shadow, we were much stronger than I could ever be alone. And it wasn't like I had any options, anyway. To even dream of achieving my objectives I'd need to grow stronger—almost infinitely stronger—while managing to avoid the true death. With those thoughts, I buckled down and started crunching numbers.
Chapter 11
Leaning with my elbows on the birch-colored desktop, I rested my head on my hands and gazed in contemplation at the potbellied pitcher containing the local version of light sparkling wine. I was deep in thought—or at least I was pretending to be. I didn't want to summon the girls for something stronger—it was hard enough to see them stepping into the room as though it were a torture chamber. So, what did we have? A princedom, a beautiful wife, an alliance with an Elder Demon, an obscure prophecy, the favor of a bunch of local gods, and a burning desire to escape to the upper realm. To humans... or at least to those who had once belonged to the human race. Although, of all those people I only cared about two: Alyona and Max. The remaining thirty or however many million didn't interest me in the slightest. There was also an obscure quest about something called Shallat, and a promise made to the goddess of luck. That about covered it, putting aside the bastard god hanging on my tail and the original bastard who had locked me away in this world in the first place. Not a bad tally for a person who'd only been here a measly six months. If I'm even a person anymore, I thought with a sigh, taking a few sips of the "lemonade" from the pitcher, then looked at my reflection the wall-mounted mirror.
The man looking back at me was no older than thirty, with pitch-black shoulder-length hair, a trimmed beard, and eyes burning a sorcerous blue color with a vertical golden pupil. The gold color of the pupil, by the way, was a new development—I'd acquired it after embarking on the path of Primordial Chaos in what was yet another dubious gift of fate. The other distinguishing mark was the black check-mark on my cheekbone, the kind teachers like to leave in the margins of school essays—my captain's stripes in the Order of Punishing Steel. Last but certainly not least, I had a responsibility before the demons who had trusted their lives to me, and a veritable horde who would follow me anywhere in this newfangled world.
A responsibility... The weight of it was real, and heavy, and inescapable. Taking a few sips from the pitcher, I broke out my pipe and took a few drags. It wasn't that I was so terribly conflicted, despite what seemed to have become customary for heroes of film and literature in recent years—those men and women were always doubting themselves, their place in the world, what they may or may not have merited, and other such navel-gazing that I deemed to be the lot of losers. There was another angle to this, however. Certain physiological features were essentially male, but they didn't necessarily make a man. Say, for instance, that a close friend of yours needed expensive surgery to save his life, and there was no money for it. What would you do? Beg the higher powers for help? Ha! Well, a man would go out and find the money. Somewhere, somehow. Whether by taking out a loan, selling his apartment or robbing a bank—the details wouldn't matter, but only his readiness to take action. Because there's no scarier fate than looking back on your life as an old man and wondering what might have been if only you'd had the testicular fortitude to "go for it" when everything was on the line. I personally wanted nothing of that lot. I would go to the bitter end, no matter what it might cost me! I would carry out the damned prophecy and smoke those two pricks, whatever it took... Was I happy right now? YES, I WAS HAPPY to have been given such an opportunity—that would be quite enough. To peer into Cheney's eyes as life faded from them, and twist the tip of my sword in his throat! To rip off the head of the bastard who had ordered my woman to be tortured! And of the moral freaks who had done the torturing! I couldn't imagine greater joy than that... Of course, I was just waxing poetic—my vengeance was still a ways away. For now, all I could do was to finally examine the bonuses and loot I'd scored for slaying those two bosses.
I got up from the desk, equipped all my gear, and walked over to the full length mirror on the far wall. Looking back at me was a six-foot-tall fella in resplendent purple armor. To be precise, the purple color belonged to the rare set of the Serpent King that Schen had found in one of Craedia's vaults and subsequently had presented to his prince with all due solemnity. It was a decent set, if not particularly special, comprising a visored helm, pauldrons, breastplate, boots, gauntlets, fauld, vambraces, amulet and a pair of rings. Each piece in the set was level 210 and a
dded 305 to some stat, without any frills or gimmicks. But it did look badass, and the set bonus for wearing all eight pieces was +600 to agility and +50% to all resistances. Standing out from the overall getup was the black belt gifted by the Warrior God, the brown shield looted off General Korg, emblazoned with a scowling mature wolf with pitch-black fur, a pair of rings glowing through the gauntlets, and the blade hanging at my waist, radiating a blackish smoke. Naturally, these were the crown jewels of my gear that I wasn't going to trade for anything. One strange thing was that my reflection in the mirror was kind of washed out, reminding me of how Max and I used to sneak around old abandoned buildings in Moscow as kids, coming across old dusty mirrors left behind by their owners. Except this seemed nothing like the familiar hall of mirrors we had all experienced as children—no, this was something different, and strange. The reflection seemed to shift—it was me one second, someone else the next. But then, even I couldn't be sure what I was anymore...
You don't look half bad, my bride sniffed in my head. A bit on the small side, sure, but it's like you said, you don't get to choose your spouses. Isn't that right, dear?
Try as you might, you won't ruin my mood. And sure, you don't have much choice in the matter. This is what you get, so you'd better make your peace with it.
I suppose, she stated, injecting sorrow into her voice. Like you said, I don't have a choice.
Choosing to ignore her words altogether, I took a few sips from the pitcher, lit up, and opened my character menu.
Prince of the Free Princedom of Craedia, Krian (level 245)
Race: Elder Demon II [human]
Knight-Captain of the Order of Punishing Steel
Lord Yllial's Slayer
Legendary Warlord
Archmage Altus' Apprentice
Liberator of Shackled Souls
Nerghall's Slayer
Shaartakh's Slayer
Saethdien Roa's Slayer
General Korg's Slayer
Ulrich the Zealot's Slayer
Marked by the Warrior God
Marked by Death
Marked by Hatred
First in the Derelict Temple
First in Ghorazm Ruins
First in the West Wing
First in the Swamp Cave
Agility: 1090
35.075% chance to hit critically with physical attacks: 5% base, 5.45% agility bonus, 14.625% equipment bonus, 10% rank bonus.
49% damage reduction from falling.
Strength: 2201
44.6% boost to armor: 22.01% strength bonus, 12.5% equipment bonus, 10% rank bonus.
505.7% boost to physical damage: 440.2% strength bonus, 12.5% equipment bonus, 10% rank bonus, 43% achievement bonus.
9705 lbs carrying capacity.
Constitution: 2346
23,460 hit points.
Vigor: 270
2700 energy points.
Spirit: 480
9.8% mana and energy regeneration in combat: 5% base + 4.8% spirit bonus.
9.8% mana and energy regeneration out of combat: 5% base + 4.8% spirit bonus.
4.8% HP regeneration out of combat: 0% base + 4.8% spirit bonus.
Intellect: 725
21.52% chance to hit critically with spells: 5% base, 3.62% intellect bonus, 4.9% equipment bonus, 10% rank bonus.
362.5% to spell power.
7250 mana points.
Armor: 12731 (91.5% physical damage absorption)
Abilities and skills:
Tongue of Flame XII—action bar
Ice Blade XII—action bar
Jump V—action bar
Step through Darkness V—action bar
Stone Disc V—action bar
Morph V—action bar
Silence V—action bar
Earth Shackles V—action bar
Shield of the Elements V [active]
Portal Creation III
Personal Weapon Enchanting with the Power of the Elements V
Demonic Rage Form II
Infernal Rage II
Aura of Horror I
Passive skills and achievements:
The party under your command has defeated one hundred times its number of enemies whose levels were equal to (or higher than) the maximum level of your warriors, winning the battle without suffering any casualties.
From now on, your party's morale cannot dip below 10, while you and the fighters under your command located within 1 mile of you receive the following:
10% to critical hit chance with a physical or magic attack,
50% to critical hit damage with physical or magic attack,
10% to critical effect chance with healing spells,
50% to critical effect with healing spells,
10% to damage and movement speed of siege engines,
10% to durability and movement speed of siege engines. [Legendary Warlord].
+5% to any magic action [Archmage Altus' Apprentice].
+5% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [Shaartakh's Slayer].
+1% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [First in Ghorazm Ruins].
+10% to physical and magic damage, +10% to armor class and all resistances, +10% to healing spells, +10% to experience gained (party bonus) [Knight-Lieutenant of the Order of Punishing Steel].
+1% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [First in the West Wing].
+3% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [First in the the Swamp Cave].
+6% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [Shaartakh's Slayer].
+3% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [First in the the Derelict Temple].
+3% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [Ulrich the Zealot's Slayer].
+4% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [General Korg's Slayer].
+7% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [Lord Yllial's Slayer].
+5% to physical and magic damage (party/clan bonus) [Saethdien Roa's Slayer].
Bonus to damage with swords: +2%.
Bonus to heavy armor: +2%.
Toughness: 61% [Simmering Flame of Hatred 5%].
Magic Resistances:
Water magic: 50% (75% with Shield of the Elements).
Air magic: 50% (75% with Shield of the Elements).
Earth magic: 50% (75% with Shield of the Elements).
Fire magic: 50% (75% with Shield of the Elements).
Mental magic: 95%.
Dark magic: 95%.
Nature magic: 50%.
Light magic: 75%.
Reputation with higher beings:
Setara—friendly
Ingvar—friendly
Bel—friendly
Celphata—friendly
Kirana—friendly
Syrat—neutral
Vill—hated
Reputation with other races:
Humans—unfriendly
Elves—unfriendly
Dark elves—respected
Orcs—unfriendly
Dwarves—unfriendly
Drow—unfriendly
Demons—neutral (Ashtar Dominion—revered; Rualt Dominion—hated, Craedia Princedom—exalted)
Netherworld—respected (Plateau of Deferred Hour, Great Geyser Valley and Saerkahm Veld of Illusion—revered)
Weapon damage: 2150-2750!!!
I froze for a second, seeing those numbers and understanding nothing. Then I looked at my blade.
Ruination
Sword: one-handed. Great Sword.
Bound item.
Durability: 16,653/20,000.
Epic scalable.
No minimum level.
Damage: 2150-2750.
+245 to strength.
+122 to vigor.
+245 to constitution.
+6.125% to critical hit chance with a physical attack.
+122.5% to damage dealt to Great Essences.
+0.0245% chance to paralyze a Great Essence for 23 seconds.
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Weight: 10 lbs.
But... how?! My damage wasn't supposed to have spiked this much with the increase in levels! Based on my calculations, it should be in the area of 1800-2150! Everything else was about proportion... Finishing the remains of the pitcher, I lit up a pipe and got to thinking. What could be the... Damn! How idiotic of me! The sword's main attribute was devouring the souls of slain enemies—evidently, this translated to the unexpected damage boost. And the stronger the soul, the greater the boost! I traced a finger along the edge of the blade tenderly: "What a treasure you are!"
Wouldn't kill you to be this affectionate with your wife, Jaelitte scoffed, but I only smiled in return.
I'll show you the full measure of my affection as soon as we get to Nittal. But would you look at this beauty!
Krian, she sighed, her voice suddenly strange. There is much you still don't know about this soul catcher. It had been of great use once—there's a reason it was dubbed a 'Great Sword.'
What reason is that?
I'll tell you, but later, said the demoness. Now is not the time.
Very well, I didn't want to argue, preferring the admire the way the pitch-black blade seemed to absorb the light around it.
What about the damage of my attacks? I opened the menu... and almost fainted from shock.
Stone Disc IV—4347.3-8961.4 earth magic damage.
Tongue of Flame ХII—67,918-86,872 physical damage.
Ice Blade ХII—67,918-86,872 physical damage.
NO FREAKING WAY!!! At the same time, the numbers were perfectly logical, as tier twelve Ice Blade got a +290% increase; alas, the chance to freeze the target was still 10 seconds. Still, with this damage output, I could capture a whole kingdom all by myself! I already had a princess, so a kingdom was due! And sure, the princess was still technically imprisoned, but I wasn't too upset about it—maybe all that time alone would turn her into an obedient wife... Though I very much doubted that.