“My game session ended today in combat against three gankers from Destiny’s group. I might not be able to handle them alone. I need help, especially if Destiny…”
“I don’t — hic — give a sh-shit!” Vito snapped. “Leave us alone, pipsqueak. Get outta here!”
He turned to Anna and started kissing her again. Huh… Some allies they were.
I pushed my way in between the table and sofa, leaned down to Vito:
“Mr. Painter, have you forgotten what you… who you became in the desert thanks to me? If you don’t help, then right after the Games, the Sleeping Gods will have one less priest. Maybe your whole clan will lose their ranks. Do you think Horvac Onegut will be happy about that?”
Opening the map of Cursed Chasm on my comm, I marked roughly where I’d logged Scyth out in the glade, then sent it to Painter with a wave of my finger. Hellfish just waved me away and kept kissing Anna. I turned away in disgust, started to climb out and bumped into her long leg.
“Who’s this, Vito?” Miss Commonwealth 2074 said, pulling away from her lover’s lips and raising her head, staring at me with unseeing eyes and blinking. “I want some champagne!”
“Champagne!” Vito shouted into the void. “Champagne for the lady!”
Michelle had returned by then. She touched me by the hand and whispered in my ear:
“It’s useless. His whole group is like this. Let’s go…”
“Waiter!” Vito kept shouting, staring at the ceiling. Roaring, he tore his arm from Anna, got up, staggered over and jabbed a finger at me. “Listen here, Sheppard! L-let me t-tell you how it — hic — how it is! You piss me off! Horvac said help you. So we — hic! — helped! Twice! The g-g-group lost a b-bunch of levels at the b… bottom!”
“Your clans get a lot out of their partnership with me, Mr. Painter,” I answered. “And I need your help.”
“You hit — hic — the limit!” Vito repeated, then fell down to the glass floor. The floor held, but some glasses shattered.
The crash woke up Alison Wu. The girl tried to stand, then fell face-first to the floor and groaned plaintively:
“Driink…”
Michelle helped her get back to her seat and called a waiter drone to get her some water. After that, she made sure Vito was alright, then turned to me:
“These guys sure are talented. Getting this fucked up in three hours is a skill! They do this every night. Can you believe that? Eh bien! Let them sleep it off, talk to them again tomorrow.”
Taking me by the arm, she led me back to the first level. As we walked down, Michelle and I ran out onto the dance floor. She jumped up and down and started to dance. I stared admiringly. I was sure she would have looked just as good as the professionals if she went up on one of those poles.
Even I got into the dancing, forgetting myself, letting the stream of humanity pull me along. The state was trance-like — I felt light, I wanted to embrace the whole world!
At some point I realized I’d lost Michelle. I waited for her for around an hour at the bar, watching the revelers and sipping my beer.
Flustered by the sight of the debauchery reigning in the club, I started to entertain crazy thoughts. My soul cried out for fun, for easy acquaintances. But morning was approaching, and my drunken mind used the last remnants of its willpower to do the impossible — to convince me that I needed to sleep before an important day. Although every day here seemed more important than the last… All the same, my mind made a deal with my body: sleep today, and if I survived tomorrow, then I’d have the chance to cut loose.
Staggering and bumping into half-naked figures, I left the club and made my way down the level’s ‘streets.’ As I walked, I finally noticed one of those ‘intimate relaxation rooms.’ Before my brain could put the brakes on, I broke for the door, feeling like Trixie in Darant’s red light district. Fortunately, Meister burst out of the door with a happy smile on his face:
“Oh, Alex, you’re here too? Nico and I were just discussing strategy for tomorrow — Michelle told us all about your predicament…”
The old man forgot all about the poet and pulled me away, still talking all the way to the elevator, then went up with me to the residential level. Meister had been drinking too, so I heard nothing sensible from him.
“You know what kinda group ours is, Alex? Woah, lemme tell ya! We’ll gallop in to save ya like knights in shining armor! You’re at the bottom of the Pitfall, right? We’ll just jump right down, our whole raid! Ha-ha, like paratroopers! Hic!”
“I’m in the woods to the south of the village, Mr. Rosen… Rosen…” I suppressed the rumblings of nausea, coughed, forced out: “…thal!”
“What ya lookin’ for in the woods? Don’t go to the woods! Wait at the bottom, we’ll come! I’ll give you rings and earrings, young man… Hic! We’ll kick their asses!”
Shaking his fist at an invisible enemy, Meister walked into his room. I headed for my own and then spent some time in the bathroom. Once my stomach had calmed down, I washed, staggered over to my bed and collapsed.
Despite my fatigue, I tossed and turned a long time, going over the events of the day, and when I finally fell asleep I felt like it was only for a few minutes.
I opened my eyes to someone shaking me by the shoulder and shouting:
“Wake up, Alex! The Games are about to begin!”
It was like I was falling, but I was really lying face-down in the pillow. There was a thought bouncing around my skull, remnants of a nightmare — that I’d forgotten to set my alarm, overslept the Games and my defenseless character had been killed by the gankers. And Smoothie had arms like Abaddon’s…
“Good morning, Alex!” Kerry’s shout woke me up.
My former assistant stood by the bed, holding out a Home Doctor toward me. Her other hand held a cardboard coffee cup. I rubbed my eyes, then pinched myself, but she didn’t go anywhere — I wasn’t imagining her.
“Come on, Alex, the clock’s ticking! You’re late!”
“What time is it?” I said, barely managing to push the words through my dry throat. “How am I here? Weren’t you fired?”
“The court of contestants let you off, and that means I get another shot too. You’re my responsibility again, kiddo! I heard you went to the club last night. Come on, put the wristbands on, let the doc set you right.”
“Hellfish! I need to talk to him before the Games start!” I jumped out of bed. “What time is it?”
“Ten minutes to the start…”
“I need to talk to Hellfish right now! I need to warn him…”
“Tell me what to tell him. I’ll try to catch him and pass it on. In the meantime, hurry up!”
“Tell him I’m in the forest south of the village and I’m surrounded by gankers… Oh, and! Destiny's raid will join them and I have a penalty… What else? Bottom line, I! Need! Help!”
“Got it, consider it done,” Kerry nodded. “Now get moving!”
My helper left me the coffee and ran out of the room. I spent the next five minutes jerkily getting dressed, spraying some tooth elixir into my mouth at the same time. That damn Home Doctor took its time cleansing the alcohol from my blood, so although I managed to freshen up some, I ended up even later than I expected.
Gulping down coffee on the way, I ran to the immersion level, burst into my capsule room while pulling my clothes off and climbed into the capsule just seconds before the start.
The new day meant that Scyth would appear with full health, mana and spirit. So my plan was simple: try to fly away, and if that didn’t work, then use Clarity to quickly kill the gankers and get away before Destiny’s raid got there. Whether I could do it depended on what the debuff was.
The capsule filled with intragel, the world flickered and I woke up in the Cursed Chasm. The figures of Smoothie, Phobos and Riker were already appearing nearby. I activated Flight and started climbing… Very slowly. As if in one of those dreams where you’re running away from danger at a snail’s pace.
A debuff icon explained why:
Sloth’s Blessing
The soul of a sloth has taken a liking to you. Sloths are famous for conserving energy by moving slowly. Your metabolism is slowed and your movement speed, attack speed and cast speed is 75% slower than usual.
Duration: 24 hours.
Smoothie the mage found me with her eyes and threw her net without hesitation. Riker went into Stealth. Phobos picked up his dropped trident from the ground, drew his sword and bared his teeth, activated Charge…
Chapter 18. Enemy of the Inferno
I STOOD ALMOST dead center in the wide clearing. The nearest trees were too far away, and my quarter-speed Flight wasn’t enough to get me there in time, but my spirit bar was at 100%, guaranteeing me seventy-four seconds of Clarity, minus whatever I spent on spirit moves.
The slow made Ghastly Howl useless — the distorted howl didn’t work on enemies. So, roughly three feet in the air, glancing down at a twisted orc face, I activated Clarity and only then howled — just in case that made it work.
“Die-e-e-e-e-e-eee…” the orc shouted, his furious roar stretching out in my slowed perception of time.
This activation wasn’t like the other times. Entering this state before had practically stopped time, but now the world kept moving, just slower. But even that was a good thing: Clarity not only fully compensated for the speed loss from Sloth’s Blessing, but it also doubled my speed in comparison to the rest of the world. But that meant that my sped-up howl sounded so high-pitched that the ability was wasted, scaring nobody:
“Woo-woo!”
Phobos kept gaining on me, sped up in his warrior Charge. The orc, his head down like a charging bull, was a couple of paces away when I decided not to spare the spirit and activated a ranged Hammerfist. The thickening air took on a ghostly impression of my fist, with Rindzin’s Ghostly Talon extending out of it. It smashed into Phobos’s chest with the force of a cargo flyer, throwing him down in Surprise. The warrior’s armor gave way and exploded at the point of contact. Blood slowly fountained out. In my accelerated perception, the warrior’s corpse raised up into the air and fell down like a leaf on a gust of wind.
My first kill! Now I didn’t have to worry about dying, because…
Wait! Phobos was dead, but where was my experience for killing him? At level 19, the orc should have given me enough for several levels! I checked my exp bar in disbelief — still empty. Still zero points!
The orc’s corpse hadn’t yet touched the ground when I noticed the figure of Smoothie in the corner of my eye. The mage girl stood, her arm raised, her fingers spread and emitting a glimmering spectral slime. The substance froze and took on the shape of the Ephemeral Web of Pacification. I flew away from the sinister net, but she ran after me, her speed overtaking mine.
Somewhere behind me, Riker was preparing to attack from stealth — the grass behind me crumpled beneath his feet. Instead of dodging, I met him with a strike. Turning sharply, I launched a Combo out in random directions, trying to hit out in as wide an angle as possible where I thought the rogue might be hiding. Riker was knocked out of Stealth and I watched as his body broke beneath each successful strike in the combo. It only took one to bring the vampire down — Rindzin’s Ghostly Talon and rank-two unarmed combat more than made up for my low base damage.
“No-o-o-o-o!” Smoothie wailed slowly in despair at the perfect time to remind me of my last foe.
I couldn’t stop the Combo after releasing it, so to make the hits land on something, I turned and directed the end of the attack at a new target, like a battle droid with a machine gun.
The mage’s web was already hanging above me and beginning to unfold into a dome. I was moving too slowly to escape, so I focused on my final enemy. The first hit on Smoothie broke her Mana Shield, she dodged another three by Blinking toward me, and only the fifth hit at point-blank range, dealing full damage and sending the foe to the graveyard.
I was thrown out of Clarity: Combo had eaten through all my spirit reserves. Each hit cost a hundred points and another fifty for every yard of range to the target. In that same moment, the Ephemeral Web of Pacification covered me, pinning me to the ground. Liberation didn’t work against the external crowd-control effect.
Thirty seconds immobile, minus fourteen health per second — I had no chance. I dealt massive damage even by the standards of the top players in the Cursed Chasm, but my health was a pitifully low three hundred and ninety. I somehow hadn’t time to train it at level one.
The web cut into my body as its timer ticked down. It tightened, tearing into my flesh down to the bone. My health indicator started flashing in the red zone and I mentally tore out my hair. I’d killed the three gankers only to be knocked out of the game by Smoothie’s farewell gift…
“Scyth!”
I breathed in sharply, twisted around… Michelle! My heart skipped a beat. The dryad leapt out of the bushes, breaking through branches, then cast a Healing Wave as soon as she was within range. A warmth and freshness covered me, smelling of flowers and pine needles, and my health bar began to crawl upwards.
“Where are they?” she asked. Then she noticed the corpses. Her eyes went wide. “Did you do that yourself?” Michelle turned as the rest of her group emerged from the woods. “He took them all out! At level 1! With the penalty! Guys, I was right, we can definitely win with him!”
“Thanks, Michelle, you came just in time!”
Only then did they all notice there was something wrong with me. My words stretched out into ‘tha-a-a-a-a-n-n-nks” as if I was in a slow-motion video. The raid started talking noisily, discussing my debuff.
Then the web disappeared, flashing as it went. I could move again. I activated Flight to get out as fast as I could, before the gankers came back with Destiny’s group in tow. Michelle watched me slowly ascend.
“Destiny and her group won’t be here for a while. Roman put a mass slaughter curse on their raid. We have ten minutes.”
“Raging Bloodthirst! I had to spend my best-player reward, but it was worth it!” the troll laughed. “They just started attacking each other in the village, trying to kill each other. The NPCs all ran and hid in their houses… Unfortunately, the effect didn’t last long and some survived, but they won’t fight us alone, they’ll wait for the others.
I wanted to ask why they didn’t finish them off, but then I understood: my allies were hurrying to me, and I doubted they could have taken out Destiny’s fierce fighters anyway.
A flickering glow and a cacophony of sound enveloped me for a few seconds: my allies were raining down regeneration buffs, resistances and stat bonuses on me, even a few magic shields.
“Hey, I didn’t get any experience!” I said to my new friend. “But the guide says you should get exp for PvP. And Octius didn’t say anything about…”
My voice was slow and elongated, and it must have been hard for the dryad to understand me, but Michelle got the picture.
“Octius didn’t say it because the village elder says it when you first meet him. You didn’t get the chance to see him. Anyway, that’s just one of the changes out of a range of surprises,” she answered. “The developers introduced Demonic Brandy this year. It’s sold in the tavern, and it isn’t cheap. It gives a penalty to damage against demons, but allows you to get experience for PvP.”
“And when someone drinks it, there’s an announcement in the village chat,” added Olga the dancer, a cute centaur girl. “But nobody drinks it, because it’s easier to kill a mob than a player. And the experience works on the same principle. So what’s the point? One point for killing an equal contestant, nothing for someone weaker. Obviously there’s no sense at all in trying to attack higher-level players. They’ll take it personal and then not let you out of the graveyard until all your lives are gone.
In the meantime, Meister had crouched down and started throwing out equipment at his feet:
“Come down, young man. We have a thing or two for you.”
I landed.
Still unloading gear, the gnome continued:
“What do we have here… Take your pick: leather trousers, a jacket, boots, armguards and shoulderguards, mail belt and gloves. Rings, bracelets and earrings for strength and endurance…” wheezing, the old man pulled something from his inventory and offered it to me: “This item is dear to me, young man. An epic necklace of my own creation. It has no special effects, but it gives noticeable bonuses to physical characteristics.”
“Keep in mind, partner, we have only one of these for the whole raid, and we’re giving it to you,” Roman noted in dissatisfaction. “Meister spent our only Demonic Soulshard on it. It drops only from bosses, and even then it’s a low chance!”
“Don’t mention it,” the jeweler said, although it was clear by his voice that he was making a sacrifice. “Do you need any weaponry?”
The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series Page 28