Devil's Waltz

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Devil's Waltz Page 34

by Dante Sakurai


  Gabrielle smiled brightly, mostly real. “Then let’s gooooo!”

  SoSo laughed musically. “Away we go!”

  The trio activated their high-tier Stealth skills and shimmered out of view, then departed for the slums through Greenwood Forest in a series of Puffs and Static Steps. Flying mounts were either too loud or would set off Detection Wards with their dense magic.

  The chilly night wind whipped Gabrielle’s hair back and forth under her warm hat, and the slums’ not-too-offending muddy stench slapped the cheeriness from her face. Oh, what a lame place this was to be. No quests. No dungeons. No loot to steal. Just… lots and lots and lots of people too dumb and weak to pick themselves up—exactly what was needed right now. Hehe.

  Along the way, voices by a river wafted along with the wind. Gabrielle paused to listen, because why not?

  A boy said, “Did you hear? That Rowan Black guy is a rapist. He’s got a collar that—”

  A girl said, “Bullshit. Synaptic has the world’s best engineers, and they emphasized logout is on a hardware level. All it would take is pulling the power plug.”

  A different boy said, “True, but you should log out instantly if we see him.”

  “Oh, come on, Trevor… don’t be so—”

  The twins appeared next to Gabrielle, quiet buzzes, but SoSo’s boot snapped a twig very audibly.

  “What was that?” the girl hissed.

  Eyes rolling, Gabrielle pinged the twins to get a move on.

  Atop a steep incline, the first wooden houses behind a palisade came into view, night-shift guards strolling and milling about with anti-Stealth lamps. The place wasn’t too bad, really; it was just muddy and severely lacked resources. They had schools, clinics, and other key facilities. The human royals were too generous. Even a lush park in the middle had been built and maintained just for them.

  A park in the middle…

  “Psst,” Gabrielle whispered as they came to a stop, “set up the intervention site in the park. I’ll meet ya there when I’m done.”

  The twins pinged an affirmative response and disappeared toward the pine tree at the right. There was a closer entrance somewhere down the warded palisade.

  A nearby guard by the gate twisted around. He’d heard the static buzzes.

  Before he could say a word and shine his lamp’s magic in Gabrielle’s direction, a spinning black curse struck him in the neck. Flesh blackened and crumbled to dust. A skeleton garbed with dragonscale leather toppled onto the trampled dry mud, the lamp going out with a huff of smoke. Gabrielle puffed to the remains and sucked the loot all up into her hungry, hungry pouch. Yummy, her pouch would say if it were alive.

  Oh, another guard blipped on the Detection Ward’s radar-display.

  “What was—”

  And he was skelefied. His armor clunked to the ground loudly.

  A door banged open, a tiny weak dot. A cranky old lady waltzed out, her right fingers balled into a fist. “Youngsters these days playing in the dead of night—”

  Skelefied.

  Her husband stared with pale horror. Skelefied.

  Another guard’s dot blinked on the radar, approaching quickly.

  In a smoky swirl, Gabrielle materialized behind the Fire Mage. The skelefied Fire Mage.

  Hmm, this is menial work. Better ignore them and get going.

  Ducking behind a two-story house, maintaining Stealth, Gabrielle puffed down a back-alley while sprinting and checking her mental-map. These slums were in the rough shape of a blunt arrowhead over ten miles long and fifteen wide with its base pressed up against the capital’s shield. She’d entered near the tip at the left side, and according to the moon’s location… she was heading due eastward. A little bit south would do for the first bomb.

  A merry tune and several jiffies passed, not a single player anywhere. Only sleeping NPCs and guards dotted about. Gabrielle came to an intersection between a few shops. Bakeries and such. This should be deep enough for the first bomb. She fetched the bomb from her pouch, the bucket-sized warhead enlarging. It weighed many, many pounds but wasn’t anything her character’s stats couldn’t lift.

  Mega Poison Warhead (Ultimate Craft)

  A bomb made from poisonous mushrooms inflicting a low-tier poison debuff in a large radius.

  Gabrielle’s only Occult Engineer ultimate granted by her tier six World Boss bonus—good for killing many low-level characters at once, a large radius meaning roughly half a mile. Twenty of these were more than enough to slay everyone here. Ione needed a little help for sacrifices further away from the intervention site.

  The brown warhead plopped down next to a tree stump, looking like a block of misshapen firewood. Very inconspicuous. Hehe.

  An Archer guard neared from behind with a possy of four.

  A Puff whisked Gabrielle away. No need to skelefy them.

  * * *

  Eight minutes later, the fourth warhead was tucked into the foundations of a clinic building big enough to be a hospital. The first players radiated larger dots on Gabrielle’s radar. Priests. They were likely training their skills on the sick and injured. And their class came with a free Detection Ward, which, at the higher tiers, could pierce through Stealth. Grrr. Unlucky.

  And it looked like at least one had spotted her, the dot suddenly moving toward her. Multiple dots.

  What to do… what to do… Either level the whole freaking building with a death attack or… run away and get on with the job.

  Gabrielle entered a command into the chatbox. A phantom cartoony coin dropped in front of her. It flipped a whole bunch of times, and bounced on an invisible surface. Two bounces. Three. It landed eagle-side-up, meaning to run—

  Nope. She was going to level the whole freaking building to the ground! And either way didn’t matter. She had been detected nevertheless. Hopefully, they weren’t going to even consider an evacuation.

  Gabrielle moved the warhead under a clothing shop’s porch, then whipped out her onyx wand. The malicious incantation for Big Bad Death Attack she had chanted countless times drawled from her throat, boring yet belly-churning stuff.

  Corrupting dark mana gathered at the emerald tip in a pulsing sphere, for ten seconds, then rushed at the hospital as a gargantuan beam as pitch as a black hole. So pretty. The silent destruction plumed high into the starry night sky, a cloud here and there. The hospital was but a crater fuming with darkness, and less than a hundred NPCs had been killed in the blast. Every player was dead. Good.

  Now, she had to really kick it into high-gear.

  * * *

  Two minutes lapsed, Gabrielle’s heart a steady drum in her ribs. As she dropped the fifth warhead onto a school’s yard, a new post pushed onto the top of the forum’s list of recent threads.

  Gabby LeMort spotted inside Greenwood slums, posted <1 minutes ago by Larry Millstone.

  My Priest Detection Ward spotted her by the northern clinic. It’s nothing but a crater now. We’re all dead. No other casualties, strangely. Not sure why she’s here.

  Darn. Gabrielle sipped from her Stamina flask and kept moving. Sour-sweet syrup curled her tongue delightfully.

  And as usual, Lance was on-point with his forum alerts. He had his own thread on configuring the in-game browser and such. Annoying boy.

  Lance Rider: Are you sure it was her? She was sighted at Stonehurst twenty minutes ago.

  Larry Millstone: She was 100% there. We all spotted her. Come ASAP.

  Mangus Troll: Holy shit. Something is seriously up.

  Something is seriously up is right!

  Grant Bossman: Dude, Black is literally torturing and raping a player right now. We have to help her first.

  Fools!

  Dorian Ambersworn: OMW. Coming with backup.

  Dorian didn’t count. He was in the Order, but he didn’t need to know she was in the inner circle. All the formalities were so boring.

  Benji Elijar: Dorian. Give it up. You. Are. Wrong.

  Dumb monkeys! The lot of them!

>   * * *

  Three minutes came and went. Gabrielle planted the sixth warhead down onto a townhouse’s flat roof, and on the way to the next location, the chatbox trilled urgently.

  Rowan Black (To Gabby LeMort): Ambiguous detected Red Dragons. They’re coming for Redwing, maybe. Just giving an update.

  Uh oh.

  Her Puffs and sprinting legs halted. Her heart nearly stuttered in the news. A wave of tingly mellow dread coursed from head to toe. Red was in danger. Her dragon familiar that she’d put so much time and effort into was in real danger again. He was so, so close to a Dark Conversion and receiving a blessing to stay alive for eternity. Well, not that close, but kind of close.

  Again, Gabrielle had to trust Row with something important. There was a small chance that she had grown too attached to the reptile, but seeing him go forever was a sad prospect. She typed Row a not-too-harsh message, trying to be gentle with the sometimes-dumb boy.

  Gabby LeMort: Try not to let him die, kay?

  Rowan Black: That doesn’t need to be said, but I won’t.

  Gabby LeMort: Good. ^_^

  Some advice too.

  Gabby LeMort: The elder dragons can invade your mind if you look into their eyes.

  Rowan Black: Thanks, but Ambiguous just told me.

  Good Ambiguous.

  Gabrielle continued on her way toward the capital’s sparkling city shield, the fancy granite buildings within peeking through. Their Roman-like architecture and city landscape was nice, but it could be better. It could be more magical and darker—and more efficient. Gabrielle vowed to make monumental improvements once The Frozen Calamity quest was in the bag and the magitech unlocked. The Dark Humans would undoubtedly love it.

  This slum, however, was a goner. Tonight was its last.

  Chapter 33

  I Saw

  While Ayla, Ambiguous, and the elite Dark Humans were busy with their rituals, Rowan had the honor of Seth’s company. The half-bat guy hadn’t seemed like the conversational type, but he apparently had a lot to say all of a sudden.

  “I saw a great beast rise over earthen peaks, having a mighty form and the sound of trumpets, and upon its head was ten horns, and upon its horns was a wreath of flames, and upon the flames was a seal of judgment. And the beast rallied its ravenous kin and righteous bands to make war with but a man. And I saw their heads as they were wounded to death, and their deadly wounds were healed in the name of death. And all the darkness of the world wondered after the man, and they worshiped the jewel which gave divine power for him to speak great things and blasphemies, and they worshiped him, saying, who else is like him? Who else is able to make war with him?!”

  How melodramatic. Farcical amusement squeezed Rowan’s face. “Are you talking about me?”

  Seth’s head slowly turned, those eyes nothing more than soulless emerald rings in deep-set pits. “It is from the prophecy of the end times. The Times of Tribulation.”

  Interesting. “I’m the man? The jewel is my amulet?”

  “It would seem so.”

  “And the beast and its kin? Those have to be the Red Dragons. They’re here to pass judgment on me for what we did to Redwing?”

  Seth nodded solemnly. “It seems to be a literal prophecy. Scholars have thought differently.”

  “Looks like I’m going to get some dragon minions.” Rowan’s lips smirked under the hood.

  “Not all prophecies come to pass, and not all pass in their entirety. Do not grow complacent.” There was underlying malice in his voice, as though he were…

  “Why? Because you fear death that much?”

  Seth glared—a truly menacing look on his pale, sharp features. “And you don’t? I know you aren’t immortal in the divine realm.”

  It didn’t take much thought for Rowan to consider his own end. “Not really. I’ve almost died for real twice. Wasn’t really concerned with my life either time. Kind of just closed my eyes and accepted it. Quite peaceful, actually.”

  “Did you see what was on the other side?”

  No, Rowan was about to say but promptly realized the implication behind the question. Seth was talking about the afterlife he had experienced—the game’s afterlife. The game’s version of Hell, which existed. As for the real world… not even modern science could answer the question of what happens after death. There was only one way of finding out.

  Rowan shook his head after too long. “No, but the afterlife is different for adventurers.”

  “How so?”

  “It may possibly not exist for us.”

  Seth’s eyes gradually widened, pupils shrinking. “I can’t imagine a worse fate. Not existing.”

  An automatic shrug lifted Rowan’s shoulders. “It’ll be like before you were born. It’s not that bad. Like falling into a dreamless sleep, forever.”

  “Not that bad?”

  “Not that bad.” What was so bad about eternal bliss? No suffering. No problems. But no Gabrielle—the only downside.

  “I… see.” Seth’s Adam’s apple bobbed. Twice.

  What was so scary? There could be far worse fates. Rowan couldn’t be bothered pushing; the weird guy was nothing but artificial intelligence. “By the way, how old are you and the other two?”

  His head titled a few degrees. “I’m thirty-four. They’re younger by a year.”

  Thirty-four. A relatable number. Rowan had been prepared for something in the hundreds if not thousands. “And how long were you in the afterlife? Why were you sent to Hell?”

  The answer came without hesitation: “We died together as teenagers in a raid at—”

  A low rumble cascaded through the air, “Yyyaaaarrrrr!”

  Neck straining, Rowan blinked onto one of the castle’s wall-towers, then onto Redwing’s back and ordered him to fly high above the mist. Seth didn’t follow. No matter—his nuke ult was still on cooldown.

  As Ambiguous’ ward and the prophecy had foretold, a great maroon beast rose from Greenwood Spine and winged high above the twin moons. Barely visible at a mile’s distance, the reptile was a cross between the stocky European dragon and the Asian serpent. Those wings spread wide, the span was double the length from head to tail. Sleeker and maybe smaller than Redwing’s, that body wasn’t as impressive, not nearly as fearsome.

  And where were its horns? It had none. So much for the prophecy.

  The dragon, too far for an Examine, breathed fire and roared again. It took a few seconds for the sound to travel. “Yyaaaaarr!”

  With the roar came a feeling of anger yet familiarity resonating inside Rowan’s chest—a magical form of communication.

  Redwing’s bones shifted as though reacting to the feeling. He was, and through the mental link, Rowan could feel the primal mind torn and embattled over seeing his past brother once again. They had known each other during their past cycled lives, reborn after death over and over at their eternal roost, past memories intact but washed over with a distancing film each cycle. Redwing was but two generations old.

  The influx of knowledge was head-cracking, and above all, Redwing’s decision had been long made. Gabrielle’s twisted affection and promises of greatness had won the whelp’s soul as she had won Rowan’s.

  Redwing did not reciprocate a roar, instead hurling a supercharged Mortar Shell toward the mountain range. Frigid chill verging on absolute zero bit Rowan’s cheeks and hands in the outpour, too much for even his inner dark-ice mana pumping through his flesh. He forcibly activated his Mana Shield to keep the cold at bay.

  As the frothing ice arched over the moons, the Red Dragon bellowed a far louder shriek. “YYYYYRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.”

  And Rowan knew, deep in his thudding heart and taut gut, that the trumpet of war had been blown.

  One by one, the beast’s kin rose from the mountains, the beast itself leading the charge. Those serrated wings flexed. Its serpent tail coiled. With an igniting blaze, it unfurled and darted forth at sonic speed. Then another dragon, and another, until the sky above the mo
untains was streaked with a rain of fire.

  Rowan was already on the move, pulling Redwing back into the swarm’s protection and triggering the order for a defensive aerial formation. Mere seconds were all he had before the first flaming dragon burst into the mist. Ice Dragonflies and Drakes unleashed their wrath, Harpies taking the worst of the beast’s ungodly heat. Tainted ice caved in on the beast, and it shrieked in pain as its flames were smothered. Ice caked its left wing. It plummeted.

 

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