Zectas Volume VI: The Delusive Realm of Mictlan

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by John Nest


  “Faux, I’m going after the Orks,” said Chrys. Without waiting for Smoke’s reply, the Prime Wizard of Vectas flew towards the broken walls, where Wertlosvati’s banner was escaping out of the city.

  Seeing Blaise’s life bar quickly draining to zero, Smoke used his Life Share ability on him.

  Small white orbs of light launched out from his palms. They latched onto the dying Flame Knight laid down against Cynar, but his life bar did not increase. The Bleeding damage from the embedded ax segments overpowered Smoke’s poor healing ability.

  Using his last bit of strength, Blaise threw his salamander tongue over to Smoke and said. “Faux, take care of Cynar for me.”

  A stunned Smoke caught the lengthy flamberge, and a notification window popped up.

  + Acquired unique flamberge: Salamander’s Tongue

  “What are you doing?” asked Smoke. “You’re not dying yet,” he said, unconvinced of his own words.

  “Shut up, and do my final wish!” exclaimed Blaise.

  Blaise laid down with his eyes obstructed by the chunk of an ax in between his forehead. “Cynar, don’t follow me to Mictlan just yet. I hope that you’ll lead our men to—” the Flame Knight could not finish his final words, as the last of his HP drained out of his body.

  “Noooo!” screamed Cynar, and mounted his dirus wolf. “Everyone!” he yelled, almost bursting his lungs. “We’re chasing after the Orks.”

  Before the OrkElves could mobilize, Smoke hurriedly put up several earth-pillars around Cynar.

  “Let me go, Faux!” screamed Cynar.

  “Do you want to waste Blaise’s sacrifice?” yelled back Smoke . “You and your men don’t have enough strength to face him today.”

  “Let me go, or I’ll kill you!” bellowed Cynar.

  “No! No one else is dying today,” said Smoke, reinforcing the barrier which prevented Cynar and the rest of the OrkElves from chasing after the UrukHais.

  Then, a notification window popped up.

  – Intimacy with Cynar has dropped to ‘Despised Acquaintance’

  * * * * * *

  Nash pried open his game pod. Dragging his legs over the entrance, he sat there for a few seconds and let out a deep sigh.

  With the room indoor wide open, Seth spotted him looking all dejected.

  “Hey, something wrong?” asked Seth.

  “Huh?” said a startled Nash, looking at his younger brother. “Nothing,” he replied shaking his head. “This game is too real sometimes… still can’t get over the deaths of Zectians that I know.”

  “But that’s why you’re heading over to that afterlife place, right?” said Seth. “What was it called again? Mixland? Mechland?”

  “It’s Mictlan,” replied Nash. “But let’s forget about that. What about you? How are your advance lessons going?” he asked, trying to change the subject, and also wanting to take an active role in the life of his brother.

  “Actually, there’s something I wanted to show you,” said Seth. “If you have some free time now?”

  “Sure,” replied Nash, all curious.

  An excited Seth led Nash to his room.

  Seth’s room looked like it came out of a minimalist magazine; neat, functional, and spacious. His double size bed all made up, his one cabinet all spick and span, even his laundry hamper was empty.

  Yet, there was one section of his room that stood out. Near his computer desk, stood a black tower with several racks in it. It had various cube-fans, rams, motherboards, video cards, and other computer parts Nash did not even know about.

  “Where did you get all that stuff?” asked Nash, surprised. Right then and there, he made a mental note to check on Donny’s room sometime after.

  “I’ve been going to the recycling center near Maine Street,” explained Seth. “And they have tons of useable parts you can pick up, free of charge.”

  Nash walked over to the black tower of computer parts and scrutinized it with ambiguity.

  “And you made a working computer from just using recycled pieces?” said Nash in disbelief. “You know I would have given you some money if you asked.”

  “Nah, it’s more fun this way,” replied Seth, sitting on his desk and booting up his self-built supercomputer. “It has a hexadeca core processor, thirty-two terabytes of ram, and two petabytes for its hard drive.”

  Nash looked at his brother more confused than before. “Is that good?”

  “It’s not the best,” replied Seth. “But it could already work as a decent server.”

  “A server for what?” asked Nash, leaning over at Seth’s screen.

  “I’m getting to that,” said Seth, as he showed a website of the Zectas APIs.

  “What are those things supposed to be?” asked Nash. “Sorry, if I keep asking questions, all of this just looks strange to me.”

  “No problem,” replied Seth. “I was like that at first.”

  “These are Zectas’ open APIs,” said Seth. He then scrolled over to an API called biometric-login. “This one here allows the system to recognize the players in the game. Like how you step into your game pod and it automatically synchronizes with your Smoke persona and links your entry into Zectas.”

  Nash nodded, but his face clearly conveyed his bewilderment. “I see,” he said and paused, staring at Seth’s screen. “Now, what’s an API, again?”

  “API stands for Application Programming Interface,” explained Seth. “These are tools for programmers to make one software talk with another software.”

  “Alright,” replied Nash. “And what is it that you wanted to show me?”

  Seth grinned, all excited. “Here,” he said, giving Nash his smartphone.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” asked Nash, looking at the phone’s screen with a DNS logo on it.

  “Use your thumb for the thumbprint recognition,” instructed Seth.

  “Okay,” said Nash, and did what he was told.

  The phone’s screen then displayed Smoke’s character profile. His current equipped items, zecs, and other basic information of his in-game persona.

  “Whoa!” exclaimed Nash. “This is awesome! What else can it do?”

  “Hm, that’s just all for now,” said Seth. “But I’m still thinking about other possible uses that would make players like yourself want to use the app.”

  A proud Nash kept nodding his head, and he scrolled through Smoke’s information on Seth’s phone.

  “I was hoping you could give me some idea,” said Seth. “What you might want to see or do when you’re offline with your game character?”

  “Um. I don’t know,” replied Nash. “If there was something, I think I’d want to see what my personal army was up to.”

  “Mm, don’t think there’s an open API for that one,” said Seth. “But I’ll look into it.”

  “How about I ask Sherry?” said Nash. “Maybe, she has something good you can use?”

  “Yeah, that would be great,” said Seth.

  Nash smiled. “I’m sure Mom and Dad are proud of you,” he said to Seth, ruffling his brother’s hair. “And thanks for giving me an easy job as a big brother.”

  “Stop that,” said Seth, swatting Nash’s hand away.

  “Alright, alright,” said Nash. “I’m going to make a sandwich, want one?”

  “Nah, I’m gonna try and look for that API you said earlier. Maybe, there’s something close to it.”

  “Okay, I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Nash. “By the way, what does the DNS stand for?” He asked Seth, as he stood in the doorway.

  “Right now, it just means Donny, Nash, and Seth,” replied Nash’s younger brother.

  * * * * * *

  Only two days had passed since Blaise’s death. Smoke tried to go with Cynar to Diebe Den, but the OrkElf Leader did not want anything to do with him.

  Upon logging in, a notification window popped up, which informed him that he was summoned by the King.

  Doubtful that he could fix his lowered Intimacy with Cynar any
time soon, Smoke went directly to the royal castle. Unlike before, the leather-armored Warrior Guards welcomed him without any problem.

  Walking across the castle grounds, he heard someone calling his real name.

  “Smoke! I mean, Faux,” yelled an old HighElf.

  “Ouragan! Hey, how are you?” greeted Smoke, smiling behind his paradox mask.

  “Shut up and come with me!” said a troubled Ouragan, pulling Smoke towards the secluded gardens in the palace grounds.

  Smoke did not resist and followed the old Prime Wizard of Vona City. “What’s going on?” he asked, bewildered.

  “Hurry, we don’t have any time before we need to meet the King,” said Ouragan. “Let’s sit over there,” he said, pointing to the marble bench in the castle gardens, hidden behind a couple of fir trees.

  When the two of them were seated, Ouragan uttered the words. “Verum mendicis!” A casting circle appeared briefly and covered them in a dome of light.

  “What was that?” asked Smoke. He looked around and tried to touch the invisible barrier, but his hand went straight through it.

  “It’s a sound barrier that modifies our conversation, but that’s not important,” said an impatient Ouragan. “My Shades have informed me, that the King is not pleased with the results of the Ork Invasion.”

  “Huh?” asked Smoke. “What does that mean?”

  “I guess I’ll start with the city you were in,” said Ouragan. “Vectas suffered a great loss,” began the Beggar Evocati. “A third of their population was killed, and over half of the establishments were destroyed. The total damage cost was estimated at over one billion zecs.”

  Smoke unconsciously removed his pyro mask, as he found it hard to breathe with it on.

  Ouragan exhaled deeply before he went on. “But the most significant of their loss the city suffered were the deaths of Duchess Cible and Duke Facile.”

  “What? Even the Duke of Vectas was murdered?” said Smoke, as he had no idea that the Orks’ invasion killed them.

  “Afraid so,” replied Ouragan. “Sadly, Wertlosvati’s invasion coincided with the Duke and Duchess’ usual trip to the city’s orphanage.”

  Smoke clenched his fist and lowered his head.

  “They never made it into the castle walls, as their priority was the safety of the orphans,” explained Ouragan. “There defiled bodies were carelessly scattered on the streets where they were ruthlessly killed by Wertlosvati and his UrukHais.”

  “What about the other cities?” asked Smoke.

  “Well, Prime Wizard Trottel spent most of his fortune on hiring Sawtorn Continent’s strongest Mercenaries,” replied Ouragan. “The Kaufen Mercenaries are all OrkElves, but my sources tell me that their fighting abilities are far below Cynar’s specially trained soldiers.”

  “Don’t tell me Vlahui City was completely wiped out?” asked a concerned Smoke.

  “Almost, but thankfully Trottel was blessed by the great god Tlaltezin that day,” said Ouragan. “The entire city was ransacked and razed. The only thing that survived were the citizens and the things they carried inside the castle walls of Vlahui,” he explained. “The Kaufen Mercenaries may lack training and fighting experience, but they make up for it in numbers. Last I heard, there are over thirty thousand of them who fought against the Orks.”

  “And Trottel hired all of them?” asked Smoke, astonished. He gained a new respect for the tiger Lioumerean. He thought Trottel was greedy and rotten to the core, but this made him think otherwise.

  “There were even rumors that Cynar tried to hire the Kaufen Mercenaries,” added Ouragan. “But he backed out when he learned how much one Kaufen Mercenary went for.”

  “I bet,” said Smoke. “Cynar probably asked them to join his cause for free, promising the death of all the Orks.”

  “Most likely,” replied Ouragan in agreement. “But now there are only ten-thousand of the Kaufen Mercenaries left. My Shades tell me that 75% of Vlahui City was destroyed that day.”

  Smoke’s face immediately fell sullen. It did not cross his mind that they would suffer that many losses.

  “What about Vona?” asked Smoke, concerned. “How is your city?”

  “It was a miracle,” said Ouragan with relief clearly seen on his face. “It was practically untouched.”

  “As expected,” proudly said Smoke. “That’s why you’re the champion of the Magi Gagnant Tournament.”

  The old HighElf smiled but shook his head. “No, I barely did anything.”

  “Huh?” said a confused Smoke.

  “The great god Tlaltezin also blessed me with good fortune that day,” explained Ouragan. “Sailors and Sonstwelters from Wysteria were the ones who drove off the Orks.”

  “Really? I didn’t think that there would be that many,” said Smoke.

  “I know, I was surprised myself,” replied Ouragan. “It seems that many of them came to buy pomegranates.”

  “And what about the Orks?” asked Smoke. “Did you get all of them?”

  Ouragan shook his head and sighed.

  “No. Even the Ork Colonel got away,” regrettably replied Ouragan. “It seems he was wiser than I gave him credit for.”

  “I see,” said Smoke, exhausted. “Wertlosvati and his Colonel escaped me too,” he added, joining Ouragan’s sigh. “I should have suggested that we bolster the defense of all the cities, instead of leaving only the standing army.”

  “Actually, that’s the other thing,” began Ouragan. “For some reason, King Kajou blames you for the Orks’ invasion on the other cities.”

  “What!” asked Smoke, startled.

  “I know. If it wasn’t for you, who knows what would have happened to the capital itself,” said Ouragan.

  “So, why does the King really want to see me?” asked Smoke.

  Ouragan shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know,” he said. “All I know is that Magietrois Florissant went over to talk with the King himself. After that, the King then summoned the Prime Wizards and the nobles of the city to the throne room.”

  “Now? All of them are there, now?” confirmed Smoke.

  Ouragan nodded. “We can expect some form of mad punishment from King Kajou, but I do want you to come see me after this idiocy,” said the old HighElf.

  “Why after?” asked Smoke. “Can’t you just tell me now?”

  “Well, I can’t very well make you—” began Ouragan, but a middle-aged HighElf with blond hair walked out and interrupted him.

  “Prime Wizard Ouragan, Sir Faux,” said the royal court Herald of King Kajou. “It is almost time to meet our King.”

  “We better go, Smoke,” said Ouragan. With a flick of his hand, he canceled the sound barrier around them.

  “Faux, and I are headed over there now,” said the old Prime Wizard, and waved at the Herald.

  Smoke offered his hand to Ouragan and helped him up.

  Together, all three of them headed for the throne room.

  * * * * * *

  Vitzytl Kingdom’s throne room was filled with all the nobles who lived in Votl City. They wore the flashiest robes with matching sparkling accessories.

  As he headed for his spot in front, Smoke could not help but scrutinized them.

  ‘If only half of these Zectians would think about helping the OrkElves outside their walls,’ thought Smoke, peeved at their egocentricity.

  Among the nobles, he saw Avilo and Jack. He thought they were good people, but aside from helping the captive nobles in Diebe Den, Smoke did not see them do anything else that was charitable.

  ‘I should talk to them about the OrkElves,’ he reminded himself, as he walked.

  Eleve—the acting 16th Magietrois Florissant, Trottel—Prime Wizard of Vlahui City, and Chrysopelea—Prime Wizard of Vectas were already standing in front of the assembled nobles.

  “Finally, took you long enough, Faux,” Trottel said to Smoke.

  “I apologize for our delay,” replied Ouragan in Smoke’s place. “But I had something important to discuss with
him.”

  “Oh, I see,” said a humbled Trottel. “Well, we’re still early anyway. King Kajou hasn’t even arrived yet,” added the Lioumerean Prime Wizard, smiling wryly.

  “Faux, come here,” called out Eleve.

  At once, Smoke hurried to his Flame Master.

  “Did Prime Wizard Ouragan tell you?” she asked.

  Smoke nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m prepared to face the consequences.”

  TUG TUG TUG

  The Herald slammed the bronze metallic staff on the floor, stopping all conversations in the throne room.

  “All, bow down before his royal majesty, King Kajou—the brave and Queen Ella— the benevolent!” announced the Herald.

  A small hairy monarch walked in, hand in hand with his beautiful wife. The Queen’s long black hair shone even more against her porcelain white skin. As they walked towards their thrones, the King was stroking his prominent brown facial hair, composed of his beard and long nose hair.

  Once King Kajou and Queen Ella were seated, the Herald called out to everyone else in the throne room. “You may all be seated!”

  “It is common knowledge, that our capital was attacked by the largest Ork Horde any of us have ever seen,” said the Herald. He paused and bowed down before King Kajou. “However, it was not only our capital that was attacked,” he went on. “As you may know, all of our cities were raided by the Orks as well,” he said and unabashedly looked at Smoke. “The King has recognized that this was due to the incomplete Intelligence that was given to him.”

  The King let out an exaggerated cough and stroke his facial hair.

  Immediately, the Herald stopped talking.

  “Such a faulty information caused thousands of our citizens to die,” said King Kajou. “Personally, I wanted to banish such an untrustworthy person out of the Kingdom. But the 16th Magietrois Florissant has enlightened me to do otherwise.”

  The King stopped stroking his long nose hair and beard. “Herald, you may proceed.”

  “Thank you, your Highness,” said the Herald and lowered his head.

 

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