Tartila Mine (The Alchemist Book #5): LitRPG Series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  A deathly silence fell.

  “Is he dead?” asked Kear Shvar, the commander of one of the largest crystal fence brigades. At least, it was once one of the largest, having been reduced to what was right then a roster of exactly two. He and his right-hand man, who was standing next to the ballista, were all that was left.

  “Don’t underestimate the kid. Angela might not have gotten through,” Berad practically spat, having lost a third squad at Tailyn’s hands. “We need to check. Vargan—go take a look!”

  The only remaining fighter tossed aside his now-useless wooden shield and headed over to the cliff. He was ready to tear the boy apart with his bare hands, the loss of his brother having overwhelmed his good sense. Leaning over the edge, Vargan pulled out one of his favorite cards as he got ready to take care of anyone he found on the other side. Nobody had ever survived Fire Arrow-IV.

  But it was with that happy thought on his mind that Vargan Tsorn, level thirty-five human, ended his existence. Living wasn’t easy with a hole where his brains were supposed to be.

  “He survived,” Berad growled and turned to Kear. “We have to go—he isn’t going to give us a second chance.”

  “What’s he going to do?” The bandit pulled up his scanner, checking the area around them within a radius of a hundred meters. While Tailyn wasn’t yet visible, as soon as he got high enough, he was going to show up on the screen. And the bandit’s excellent synchronization between the scanner and Angela worked wonders—the machine could take out creatures exponentially stronger than it was. That was how he had hit Tailyn and thrown him back over the edge, in fact, and that was how he was going to take care of the boy the second time around.

  “Whatever you say,” Berad replied, never one to rely too heavily on named weapons. While he wasn’t sure Tailyn had found the strength to stand up to Angela, he did sense they needed to beat a retreat. That gut feeling had saved him many times; it was going to save him once more. Pulling out his intercom, he called the fighter he’d left a safe distance away with a portal card. It was always a good idea to have a backup plan.

  “Activate it,” he said before reading off his code phrase and blowing on his card.

  Portal cards cannot be activated within 5 kilometers of Mean Truk due to the attack on the city.

  “You said that was only for the empires!” the bandit screeched, his voice sounding unnatural, and that was when a hole appeared in Kear’s aide’s head. The level five force field was powerless against the armor-piercing bolt fired by the level fourteen named weapon.

  Just as had happened the previous time, Tailyn’s Talarii kicked in a hundred meters above the ground. The jerk helped. It brought the boy to his senses, silenced the ringing in his ears, and wiped away the bloody sheen that had been obscuring his vision. And while that still left a long time until he was going to be completely healthy, his life was no longer in danger. A gust of wind pushed the boy against the cliff a hundred and fifty meters away from where he’d fallen, but that was when he got lucky. There was a small outcropping large enough for his winged sandals to send him soaring higher. Reaching the cliff with the speed of a racehorse, he noticed Vargan’s move. A hundred and fifty meters was nothing for Valkyrie. And so, by the time the boy had made it up onto the cliff, there were only three bandits left.

  Or rather, two—Tailyn’s first shot took out the owner of the named ballista. Taking another hit was not in his plans for the day, though he wasn’t able to move any closer to the bandits. His broken leg was still going to be giving him trouble for a while. And since crawling didn’t seem like a good idea either, the boy just waited where he was for Valkyrie to reload.

  “Portals don’t work! You set me up!” Berad Gor continued yelling, and those turned out to be his last words before making his own way to the great nothingness. Tailyn was worried the bandit’s inventory was going to be lost forever, but he couldn’t take the risk. Letting Berad leave the first time had cost him Valia. After making sure the city had just one opponent remaining, the boy turned on his loudspeaker and called over to Kear.

  “Your life will be spared if you surrender! I need your logs and inventory—you have one minute to make your decision.”

  “Screw you!” Kear pulled out a Crobar stiletto and crept over toward the rocks, his gaze fixed on his scanner. Tailyn was still nowhere to be seen. Prepared to sell his life dearly, he was not about to be taken captive—that was the last thing he needed. His fighters were the most dangerous anywhere, capable of anything, and even the god’s warning about staying away from Mean Truk hadn’t stopped them when Berad Gor had shown up asking for help. Kear had realized it was their chance. By killing the boy, they could loot the city and earn themselves a hefty reward from the emperor, perhaps even including a pardon. What else could you ask from a daring raid? Having carefully built their plan, the bandits had surrounded the city, and the whole thing would have gone off without a hitch if it hadn’t been for the flying boy. But that was fine. The kid could try taking Kear out—they would see whose armor was thicker.

  But Tailyn wasn’t about to get any closer. Sixty seconds after his offer had been made, a flask full of a black liquid hit Kear, and the bandit leader’s final seconds were filled with excruciating pain. In his defense, he held onto his blade to the last, ready to plunge it into his opponent if only given the chance.

  Attack on Mean Truk repulsed.

  All event participants receive +1 level.

  ***

  You destroyed 100% of the opponents.

  Level +2 (95).

  Frankenstein +3 (54).

  You receive 100% of the loot received from the dead opponents.

  ***

  Active Marauder attribute detected.

  Would you like to use it as the city head? (10 seconds left to make your decision)

  Tailyn frowned—he’d never heard of anything like that. Checking in with Forian would certainly have helped, but the timer forced him to make the decision on his own. Sighing, he agreed. The whole situation definitely couldn’t get any worse.

  As the head of the city, you receive access to all slain bodies in order to loot them...

  Active protection against marauders detected.

  Your attribute level: 51. Active protection level: 36.

  ***

  Loot received...

  An extensive list of everything the System had pulled from the bandit bodies appeared in front of the boy. Armor, cards, inventory expansions, weapons, different gadgets, elixirs, intercoms...there wasn’t much the seventy-three crystal fences hadn’t had with them. A mountain of loot appeared next to Tailyn, though the god saved the best for a personal reward delivered directly to the boy:

  Crystals +355 (880)

  Coins + 28770 (564373)

  Gold +45887 (761806)

  Named star +1 (2)

  Berad Gor’s Last Statement recording received.

  Kear Shvar’s Last Statement recording received.

  You destroyed the leaders of two of the most dangerous crystal fence groups. Speak with the emperor’s viceroy to receive your well-earned reward.

  Chapter 3

  “I DON’T MEAN TO step on anybody’s toes here, but what were you thinking when you designed the city?” Valrus Bur, the level two reptiloid, was gingerly picking up what was going to serve as armor for him. His facial expressions were next-level. From the looks of it, he had complete control over every last muscle in his face, twisting them into such intricate combinations that ordinary humans had to suppress a gag when they saw them. But the group gathered there was too polite to draw attention to him, especially since they were all staring at a projection of the Mean Truk architectural plan.

  “We figured the mountains would keep us safe,” Tailyn replied for everyone else. The adults said nothing, almost as if they were looking to keep from admitting their mistake, and that meant it was up to the young head to take it on the chin.

  “Hopefully, you’re now aware what that kind of thinking leads to
. You got lucky—the crystal fences were bumbling fools. If I’d had their resources, there wouldn’t be so much as a trace left of the city, and that’s even with the limits the System has in place.”

  “Are you just going to tell us off or do you have something actually helpful to say?” Valanil asked irritably. The reptiloid’s condescension was getting on her nerves, particularly since the city leaders really had fumbled the planning stage.

  “Just one thing: the wall needs to be rebuilt to completely encircle the city. It should be twice as high and wide, with an ascent cut into the mountain to make sure the guards can get to the top and do their job. Outside the wall, we need a ditch twenty meters across. The same goes for up on the mountain, ten meters deep there, and the mountaintops should be evened out and cleared of boulders for two hundred meters. A few towers can control the approach. And don’t forget ballistae with a range of two hundred meters. An emitter in the temple can generate a protective dome covering the whole city, which means we’ll need generators and reflectors on the walls. You have plenty of crystals—we can use the power they offer. But honestly, that’s all so elementary that I’m at a loss. Have none of you ever designed a defensive position?”

  “We’re self-taught,” Forian was forced to reply. “Architect, how much time will it take to redesign the walls and temple in line with those requirements?”

  “Ten days,” the machine said once it had studied the city’s updated needs. “That will run you five hundred thousand coins after your discount.”

  Tailyn didn’t even think to ask if it was a good expenditure or not. Mean Truk wasn’t going to survive without the changes.

  You spent 10 CPDs updating the city plan.

  The Treasurer paid 50000 coins to the Architect.

  “With the discount included, a full rebuild of the city walls will cost seven million coins and twelve months of work. Modernizing the temple and installing generators for a level six force field will be another five million and seven months, all prices including the required equipment,” the architect said, clearly pleased to be squeezing even more coins out of the city.

  “What if we use our own cement?” Forian asked. The prices were eye-watering.

  “The cost of the walls will drop to five million,” the architect said begrudgingly. “That won’t make any difference for the temple or the generators, though.”

  “What are the chances the empire attacks from the mountains?” The treasurer was doing his best to maintain his grip on the city’s finances, and that time his inquisitive gaze was turned on Valrus. The latter could only chuckle.

  “A hundred percent. My student is a veteran strategist, and he’ll hit an unprotected city at its most vulnerable weakness. As it stands, Mean Truk doesn’t have a shot at surviving.”

  “Looks like we’re going to have to wait on the palace,” Valanil said worriedly. The picture wasn’t falling into place for her—regardless of the coins, which were always there to be found one way or another, how were they going to buy that much time? Mean Truk’s would-be assailants weren’t going to give them the year they needed. As soon as the god’s grace period ran out, they were going to attack.

  “You need more builders. Another two or three, and you won’t have to postpone anything,” Valrus said. “That will also boost the city’s status—it’ll be much harder to get into the safe zone.”

  “And you know where to find them, I assume? Back at the experimental lab?” Valanil replied, her tone oozing sarcasm. Valrus frowned. Long experience had given him a deep understanding of human emotions, and he also knew he would never achieve his former standing if he let himself get pushed around as Tailyn’s sidekick. He had to engender respect. Staring closely at the herbalist, he replied evenly.

  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re implying, Duchess of Carlian. Nothing I said deserved that kind of response—as far as I know, there aren’t any builders in what you call Tartila Mine. As far as my suggestion goes, it has to do with the whole city, as the only way to get builders is to offer the game something truly valuable in exchange. Something like the remote terminal the temple is built around.”

  The group tensed up. Only a select few were aware that Valanil was a Carlian, and the reptiloid wasn’t one of them. How could he have known the simple herbalist’s real identity? There was nothing about it in her attributes. And while Valanil’s stiletto flashed in her hand, the god’s mission kept her from burying it in the odd creature. A pause hung heavy, though Valia broke it almost immediately.

  “If we give up the terminal, the city will lose its status. That isn’t an option.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that Mean Truk should give the game its heart and soul, young duchess. All I meant was that the payment for the architect should be on par with what you paid for the one you have now—note that I’m not asking how you got it. I’m very well aware that you can’t repeat that trick. Builders are too valuable a resource for the game to just hand them out. By the way, who are you two to each other? Not mother and daughter, I wouldn’t think. Sisters? Anyway, that’s not important. Tailyn, let’s see your map.”

  A projection of the Gray Lands appeared in front of the group. The reptiloid sighed heavily, much like a human after a grave loss.

  “This used to be a green and flowering land,” he said sadly. “Now, it’s practically a desert... The planet is dying. Okay, there should be an ancient city here, though what are those red dots?”

  “Containers of dragon’s tears,” Tailyn said. “I have a mission to take them out, and there are twelve left.”

  “You’re correcting the Absorber’s mistake?” Valrus replied, his tone suddenly admiring. “Well done. That invention isn’t one of Mark Derwin’s best. Okay, there should be a terminal here, and we can trade it for a builder card if we get full access. Just ask the game, and it will handle the rest.”

  “How do we get full access? The god removed hacking and device control from our world,” Tailyn said, eliciting a strange expression from the reptiloid.

  “What do you mean, ‘removed’? The game can’t just get rid of core attributes and skills. That upsets the balance!”

  “The god actually did it to restore the balance.” Tailyn pulled up the description in his logs and sent it to the reptile. Shriveling up and contracting, the latter turned into what looked like a dried potato, having been unprepared for that blow of fate. He’d had big plans for the deleted parameters, enhancement in particular.

  “I’d like to know how you’re aware of the Carlians,” Valanil said. She was apparently unconcerned by the conversation going on, caring only about what the reptiloid knew.

  “That’s all you want to know?” Forian shot back. “Don’t worry about it!”

  “I need answers!” Valanil had taken the bait. “And he’s not leaving until I get them.”

  “Is there any other way to get access to terminals?” Valia asked, ignoring her sister’s frustration.

  “I’ll have to think about that,” the reptiloid replied. He’d suddenly realized that his advice wasn’t as valuable as he’d thought. While he’d been busy keeping Isr Kale supplied with mana for three thousand years, major changes had been introduced.

  “Let’s say I have access to a terminal. What am I supposed to do? Just ask the System? Or is there something else?” Tailyn asked, and everyone, a frustrated Valanil included, spun around to stare at him.

  “What else haven’t you been telling us?” Forian felt a pang of resentment. Having been under the impression that everything was under control, he was finding out that he didn’t know the boy as well as he thought. Tailyn pointed out another spot on the map.

  “After I took out the destroyer, I got access to that terminal. It’s on the other side of the mountains, so I forgot about it—getting there is going to be hard. But if that’s our only option...”

  “But that’s Grivok!” Valrus replied, emotions once more playing across his face. “You have access to the Grivok terminal?�
�

  “And Grivok is...?”

  “The capital of the southern part of the continent, at least, what people called it back when the game arrived on the planet.” Valrus was once more in his element. “But there could be anything there even besides the terminal. We need to get there as soon as possible!”

  “You have another five days of bed rest,” Tailyn replied. “If we head around, the trip will take three or four weeks. And that’s even if we do it at a run.”

  “Cloud could handle it in one.” Valia wasn’t about to let Tailyn go, which meant she needed to find a way to stay with him.

  “What about going straight through the mountains?” Forian zoomed out. “The lizard is fine on terrain like that, and it can help Tailyn fly wherever it can’t go. You can cover the two hundred kilometers in three or four days.”