Black Flame in the Barren Steppe: Epic LitRPG (Realm of Arkon, Book 8)

by G. Akella

  "Pass, I've had enough of the locals' hospitality," I shook my head. "We barely got away last time around. First we handle our business with the orcs, then we'll deal with your baron."

  "As you say," Kan said with a smile just as Bonbon, Masyanya and Donut entered the room.

  Still immersed in my thoughts, I didn't notice it right away. Then, after looking and not seeing Alyona or Max, and registering the expressions on the arrivals' faces... I felt a chill to my very core, as if a bucket of ice had been emptied over my heart.

  "Who?!" I uttered in a hoarse voice.

  "Max..." Donut replied, averting his gaze. "He's alive, but... It's all a mess..."

  Alive... Nothing else mattered. A simple game death wouldn't have prevented Max from coming, nor elicited this kind of a reaction from these three. I had grown used to the idea that my friend and I were dead men walking, but if he was alive, there was still a chance.

  "But the mallorn trees have been planted! The Guardian is untouchable! What bastard would dare hurt him?!"

  "It's no one's fault," Bonbon shook his head. "Let me try to explain."

  Shoving Donut aside, he took a seat at the table, poured himself a glass of cognac and downed it in one go, then looked over at me.

  "Max planted one hundred and two trees. That's one tree more than anybody could ever dare to dream. The Silvery Grove's bonuses are doubled, and all of the Great Forest is in an uproar." Bonbon coughed, lit up, and continued. "Mallorn trees aren't solely responsible for the craze, either. One week after Max had vanished in the mist of the Silvery Grove, all of our gods and all the heads of the High Houses gathered there. On the eleventh day, at the exact time when Teiran met his end, the Guardian emerged from the dissipated mist and spoke his will." Bonbon splashed more cognac into his glass, took a look around the table, and continued. "The will of the Guardian is sacred even for the System, which means all the elves are one people once again. The veil covering the Wild Wood is gone. There are no more dark elves, or light elves, or Nightcrawlers... There are only 'elves.'"

  "Max overexerted himself," Masyanya picked up the baton. "The guys saw him from afar—they couldn't get close. He looked like a walking corpse when he came out of the mallorn grove. Nobody knows what happened there, but Kirana did mention something about a sacrifice. A sacrifice for all of us..." The huntress grounded her eyes, sighing. "Loaetia took Max, and Kirana took Alyona. We don't know where. The rest were instructed to wait in the Wild Wood. Kirana promised that he's going to be all right, that she and the Forest would not let him die..."

  "Yeah, sure..." I said, massaging my temples, then looked up and out the window.

  It was still light outside, but the street lanterns were already on. Fountains shot water into the sky as people promenaded amid marble statues.

  A sacrifice for all...

  I hadn't said anything to Max at our parting, but Bonbon's news wasn't earth-shattering. I had already been sure that Max wouldn't settle for less. I knew my friend all too well, and the acute sense of justice inherent to his character. Had the prophecy played any role in this at all? Maybe the Great Forest had simply known whom to choose? Either way, I sincerely hoped that the goddess of mercy and medicine would be able to help him...

  "We move out tomorrow at noon," I said, then rose from my seat, snatched one of the bottles of cognac, and headed toward the exit to the stable. "Don't wait up, I'm going to spend some time with my boar."

  There are moments in one's life when one needs to be alone. Or at least in the company of one's war mount. Such moments happen to all men. Even those who are half-demon.

  Chapter 3

  Daar Duchy; Eastern Borderlands, Scorched Grounds; Laetan Barony, Eastern part of Tyremian Wood; Zone level 220.

  The edge of the forest clearing abounded with trees with twisted, ramified branches, short narrow-bladed grass, and patches of nettle and thistle. The air was scented with resin, rot, and moist moss. Little, if anything, had changed here over the past month. I was no elf, but after one week in Vaedarr with its throngs of people, sun-warmed pavements, and endless bustle, I was content to be back in the quiet, peaceful woods. It would take a long while before other players made it out here, and by then I'd already be back in Craedia. That is, assuming I'd still be.

  Chasing away such foolish thoughts, I pulled on Gloom's bridle, then stepped aside to let pass the dragons emerging from the portal window.

  The portal had been successfully attuned only to the spot of our previous exit—the meadow where we had once spent a night. Only this time we weren't going to idle here—with roughly three miles from here to Dorca, and about the same distance from there along the tract, we estimated reaching our destination by lunchtime. The baron did invite us for a meal during our last encounter, so we would gladly take him up on the offer. A month late and in a party of eight this time, but those were trivial details.

  "Did you remember to bring a basket, Masyanya?" Bonbon slipped a rollie in his mouth, taking an expert look at the trees surrounding the meadow. "It's late April, the perfect time for morels and elfin saddles."

  "I don't even want to know what kind of filth you just mentioned," the huntress shot back.

  "They're types of mushrooms," Donut chimed in to explain.

  "Why am I not surprised that you know exactly what he meant?" the young woman cackled. "Birds of a feather... Whether it's mushroom picking or visions of dryads..."

  "If the area has mushrooms, then you're good to go, right?" Raena interjected, having been listening attentively to the conversation.

  "Wait, what?" the mage blinked in confusion.

  "There's your tree," the young woman pointed at a prominent redwood. "You've already procured a guitar and learned to sing. Go on now, climb up and get comfortable."

  Reece was about to counter when Kan's alarmed voice cut short the facetious quarrel.

  "Prince! Need you here."

  The knight-commander was examining something on the ground, near our old campsite. With a shrug, I walked over to him. Everybody else followed.

  "Look," Kan bent over, scooped up a handful of coals left over from the dead campfire, and demonstrated them. "This fire went out mere hours ago. The dragons' tracks on the grass are still fresh... Either our doppelgangers were just here, or I don't understand what's happening."

  "Quiet!" Raena threw up her hand, listened to something for several seconds, then pointed confidently to the northwest. "There's a battle raging at Dorca. I hear screams, metal grinding..."

  So much for a friendly, peaceful visit, I thought with frustration. There was no sense to doubt her words—back in Darkaan she had heard the sounds of battle from an even greater distance. And now we were no more than five miles away—even an ordinary person could hear the whistle of a train from here, to say nothing of our keen-eared sorceress.

  Kan looked at Raena and was about to ask something, but Vaessa beat him to it with a declaration that proved to be the cherry on top of this crapcake.

  "Undead! Lots of them!" she said coolly, pointing in the opposite direction.

  Hart Almighty... I shut my eyes for a second, mulling over our next steps. I wasn't particularly concerned with random flocks of undead, but if the village was truly being besieged...

  "Mount up, quickly," I commanded, leaping into the saddle of my razorback. "We're taking the quickest way to the dirt road, and turning toward Dorca from there. Whatever happens after, we'll play it by ear."

  I waited for the elves to shift and the others to mount their lizards before striking Gloom's sides with my heels, steering him toward the road stretching beyond the forest.

  None of this makes any sense, I kept thinking, watching the woods carefully as we rode. Dorca being attacked, some kind of doppelganger crew, the undead... We'd barely made it out of the city before a slew of new adventures fell on top of us. And if the appearance of the undead could be explained by the relative proximity to Arkaetania, which was less than one hundred miles away, the rest of it... Fro
m our last interaction, I judged the baron to be anything but an idiot—he would have taken his people away at the first sign of danger. So who was attacking them now? On the other hand, his domain was in the local equivalent of the boondocks, and set in a Medieval-type world where news might take weeks to travel across the land. And news of the undead gathering in Arkaetania had become known what, a week ago? Hart, how I hated all these bloody mysteries!

  The woods were hardly the Southern Erantian Tract, meaning our pace was heavily hampered. After about half an hour of looping between the trees, we finally emerged onto a wide clearing leading to the dirt road. We picked up speed, and when we were within one hundred yards of the road...

  "Watch out!" Vaessa yelled behind us.

  A roar went up from the trees lining the side of the road, followed by screeching metal, and a fifteen-foot figure of an arch lich was suddenly blocking our path. Four hundred million HP, pitch-black mantle flowing down to the ground, a bone crown atop a pair of eyes glowing a menacing crimson. His right hand clenched a long curved dagger, and the left—some kind of filth resembling a dessicated monkey's head. But the bigger question remained—where the hell did he come from?!

  "Look alive!"

  As Gloom Charged, I popped Infernal Rage, and raised my shield to block the midnight-black ball of flame bearing down on me. The spell caught the boar's hump before smashing into the shield and immersing my world into total darkness. The back of the saddle pressed into the small of my back as rage and adrenaline swirled in my veins. I threw Silence on the bastard as he threw up his dagger, my lance steady as it rammed through his chest moments later. There was a sickening crunch—two and a half thousand tons moving at this speed was no laughing matter—and the arch lich's broken body skidded on the grass to the tree line.

  "Look out! On your right!" the knight-commander's yelp reached me belatedly.

  Out of the corner of my eye I registered an enormous black carcass breaking through the trees, almost within striking distance. I turned and managed to put up a shield in the path of the charging cerrath.

  "Bitch!"

  The world turned upside down. Suddenly, all I could see was a piece of the sky with distant tree tops, as the stench of rotting flesh assaulted my nostrils. The blow knocked the wind out of me and hurled me back at least ten feet. The full plate armor proved its worth, keeping the head and the neck from suffering any serious damage. Even back on Earth a knight rarely broke anything when falling off his horse, to say nothing of this world. Boasting the strength of fifty Medieval knights—and that was being conservative—I was back on my feet the next second, gasping for air as I scrambled to assess the situation.

  To my right raged the cerrath that had attacked me, kicking up turf as if in slow motion. Gloom was lying off to the side, his health bar barely more than ten percent. The shield may have protected me, for the most part, but not him. The arch lich was getting back up on his feet, slowly. The assessment seemed to slow the passage of time over those few seconds, but then the action kicked back into high gear.

  "I got him!"

  A black band looped around the monster turning toward me. The next moment, Kan rammed into his side with a Charge.

  "Hold on, Gloom!" I Jumped to the boar, broke a vial of Greater Healing over his side, and raised my shield to block a Spear of Darkness. A pair of Ice Boulders broke against the pulsating force field that had appeared around the arch lich. The undead spellcaster threw up his arms, and dozens of bone spears rained down from the sky. One of them struck me in the shoulder, and several more hit Gloom's still-unmoving body.

  "Bastard!"

  Releasing the boar, I popped Dispersion, followed by Step through Darkness. Emerging behind the target, I struck out with Ice Blade, thrusting Ruination into the arch lich's lower back. The next second, Lola knocked the undead to the ground, though I too barely kept my footing. Thirty yards or so to our right, a swarm of skeletal warriors ran out from behind the trees, rusted metal rattling. A century at the most. Without slowing down, the undead host rushed right toward us, but within seconds more than half of them crumbled to useless heaps of bone meal before reaching even the midway point. A shadow flickered through the air, materializing into a spotted lion that immediately pounced on the two warriors still leading the charge. Lola was trampling the lich into the grass, dragging him around like a kitten might drag a rag doll, and forcing me to take careful aim lest my attacks hit her. Every attack against the knocked-down target was a crit. My shield enchantment kept the lich's attention, as he fully ignored the dragoness. Having apparently never taken the Casting while Supine class back in lich college, the poor bastard would only occasionally scrape his dagger against my greaves, taking off at most five percent HP per hit. The HoTs and additional heals coming from Raena would replenish my health bar back to full almost instantly, and I even began to sneak glances around me. Twenty yards to my right the cerrath was having it out with Kan, with George holding the monster's thigh in a death grip with his jaws. But the knight-commander was a much tougher nut to crack than yours truly, and his HP bar barely registered any losses. Vaessa, Reece and Masyanya were damaging the monster from a distance, still mounted, while Bonbon and Donut were finishing off the skeletons harassing George.

  Ice Blade! Crit! Tongue of Flame! Crit!

  The realization that I was a bloody idiot came suddenly. How could I have not seen this attack coming?! Jin Ho had warned me... These undead must be one of many waves of monsters attacking Dorca. What if all the undead that had gathered in Arkaetania were already on the move?

  The body of the lich being abused grew a layer of bone armor in front of my eyes. Having already lost over two thirds of his HP, the boss knocked the dragoness back with a double blow of his feet, then leaped in Raena's direction and threw up his hands, but was immediately Silenced by Reece. I Jumped right after him... just as a century of merged Reapings slowly floated onto the meadow. A Dorca deja-vu... The same ten-by-ten quadrant, faces concealed by hoods, curved scythes—each mob a healthy level 320 with one million HP. Hart! Both Dispersion and Step through Darkness were still on cooldown. I was immune to Chaos, but the reapings' aura... It was all I could do to hope that I would take those bastards with me before buying the farm myself. They were within fifty-sixty yards now... Forgetting the lich, I turned and dashed toward the reapings. Raena raised her hands, and huge ice boulders began showering the mobs as they slowed to a stop. Reece joined in right away, but neither caster's spells were doing any damage. The boulders were swallowed up by the mobs' defenses like rockets fired from fighter planes in the force field of some alien ship boasting technology far superior to any available on Earth. The magical shield had a gray HP bar of its own that I hadn't noticed before, and it was down barely one tenth. The reapings, in the meantime, began to slowly raise their hands. Vaessa should manage to repulse at the least their first spell. Twenty yards... Just then, George, having freed himself of the last skeleton, let out a terrible hiss... A jet stream of dragon flame literally devoured the rest of the shield, decimating the reapings with their hands raised in the blink of an eye.

  "Uh..." Vaessa mumbled into the party channel, her voice hoarse.

  The handful of reapings still standing after the dragon flame were swiftly finished off by the ice boulders falling from the sky, their own spell fizzling helplessly against the shield put forth by the magus. Everybody's eyes were on George, who was standing perfectly still, his four paws planted wide, himself in apparent disbelief of what he'd just done. Slowly, the dragon turned his head toward Vaessa, his expression a mix of shame and bafflement.

  "Focus fire the lich!" Kan commanded calmly, dodging yet another attack from the cerrath. "Then switch over to this one."

  No more undead were appearing, and the arch lich lasted less than five minutes with Bonbon and Donut taking turns interrupting his casting. The cerrath was next, and I was happy to let my comrades finish it off while I prudently watched from the side. I didn't want to remove the shield
, even less to draw the beast's aggro. Thankfully, they didn't need my help, and some ten minutes later the ghastly monster was down. Kicking the carcass with the heel of his boot, Kan cast a contemplative gaze at Vaessa to his side.

  "I told you, auntie, didn't I? George will learn to do all the things you cannot," Reece remarked, following the knight-commander's eyes. "Which is a good thing. Cause if he could only follow your lead, I doubt that ranting and raving or slipping into leotards would have harmed the undead in any significant way."

  But there was no getting to Vaessa this time. The magus walked over to her pet, who had just distinguished himself in the most fantastic way, and gave him a most tender embrace.

  Realizing that this display of affection would go on for hours if unchecked, I gave a quick look around at the scattered corpses, and barked a command:

  "Collect the loot, quickly! We set out to Dorca right after. Our mounts are on cooldown, so everyone goes on foot, aside from the cats. Vaessa," I addressed the necromancer's daughter. "Are there any undead still around?"

  "No," she shook her head. "I don't sense any more of them."

  "The battle is over at Dorca as well," Raena added quietly, nodding in the direction of northwest.

  "Good," I said with a shrug. "Now let's go see who won. We move out in five, so be ready."

  The first impulse is indeed the best, as a rule, I thought, studying the trees framing the side of the road. If we hadn't attacked the wave of undead, we would have brought all that train with us to Dorca. And who knew if the circumstances there would have been as advantageous to us as they had proven to be at the site of the battle. Especially since another nasty surprise could be waiting for us at the outpost, risking a fight on two fronts would have been the apex of idiocy. Was I just blowing smoke up my ass? Maybe, but you can't argue with the results. We won, which meant my decision had been correct. And if anyone disagreed, well, I didn't give a damn. Others were welcome to handle critical situations and make whatever decisions they saw fit, and I would do the same. And now that the situation was behind us, I didn't want to dwell on the past—better to focus on the uncertain future. I had a healthy respect for people capable of thinking several steps ahead, and adhering to their plan with nerves of steel, unwavering. The cats were in the vanguard and to the side. Vaessa kept searching for but not detecting any undead. It didn't matter at this point who had been fighting at Dorca, or who had won. We'd know once we got there, and we'd react accordingly.