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

by G. Akella

  Well, she was right about that. The people who had created all of this had wanted only to earn a huge pile of money, and that they had done. They could have been lazy about it, but no, they packed this place full with so many quests and events that even the local gods couldn't keep track. I cursed their professionalism.

  "As I said before, I think that everything that's happening is what this world's creators planned to occur sometime in the future. I don't know why all of it is coming to pass at the same time, right now." I sighed. I had said all this before. "Meaning I think this mess is the plot of a certain acquaintance of mine, but I don’t have any proof of that."

  "If you're right, though, it means Vill knows about Rakot's invasion," Kan called back from just ahead of us.

  "What does that mean?" Vaessa moved forward a few feet and addressed his massive back.

  "Probably just that he'll ignore Helstaad, go to the orcs, and sit on the sidelines, watching to see what happens between Celphata and Rakot. After all, Vill knows by now that Hel is free and that Celphata has recovered some of her strength. As far as he is concerned, Rakot's move is yet another opportunity to weaken the Mistress of Death."

  "But Vill doesn't know that Rakot can be blocked from entering Karn without open confrontation! Right?" Vaessa turned to me, her brow raised questioningly.

  "I don't know about that," I shrugged. “The quest doesn’t specify what to do with the book and amulet. But maybe a month of hammering Rakot on the head with them is just the thing.”

  "Krian!" the demoness muttered, furrowing her brow.

  I smiled. "Look, I don't think the goddess will have to beat Rakot over the head with an amulet. Though I would happily do it to get him back to Limbh sooner."

  "Don't worry, my lady," Kan raised his hand, palm downward. "Vill doesn’t know about the book or the amulet yet, so no need to worry about it. Everything is going just as we expected it would."

  "I very much hope that Mistress won't struggle against Rakot," Vaessa said, nodding her agreement, then touching her heels to the sides of her lizard, and moving up to ride with the knight-commander. “Listen, Kan, there's something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a long time now...”

  At this, I held Gloom back and fell behind to let the two of them talk. They were certainly strange, my companions. Kan and Vaessa. Reece and Raena. We had lived through so much together, and yet at times they acted like bona fide Earth teenagers. I hadn't paid nearly so much attention to my first steady girlfriend.

  Morning brought with it a light rain, but it passed in under an hour, rare clouds dispersed by the wind. The sun emerged, and we ate a hurried breakfast before setting out north along the road.

  Venern, also known as the City of Lilac Blossoms, was in full bloom, its bushes so fragrant that even if putrid corpses filled the road, hardly anyone would notice. But as soon as the road brought us to where the aromatic thickets tapered off, we saw ahead of us the white walls of the capital of the Daar Duchy. I would have circled around the city and led the group onto the orcish tract that same day, if not for the promise I had made to the king and Father Sebastian. But I had pledged to inform them of any threats, and alas, Rakot's invasion was quite a threat. But I wasn't about to bother the duke himself. I would be able to get an audience with the Hero of Vaedarr if I wanted, but it would still take some time. Why disturb such a busy man with trifles like these? Venern was the capital of a duchy, and as such it had a Temple of Myrt—and every Temple of Myrt had a chapter of the Untainted. That was where I was going, and they could report up the chain as they saw fit.

  "The next baby will be a son, I'm certain of it!" Bonbon said as he emerged from an episode of introspection. “My daughter is awesome, no doubt, but these things require balance!”

  "Already have another one cooking?" Masyanya snorted beside him.

  He smiled and turned to the huntress. "I've been thinking a lot about it recently. You know, it’s rumored that teachers don’t actually like children. That’s a lie, of course—if we hated children we’d flood out of our jobs."

  Sure, children are great, I thought as I watched the convoy stretching out from the city gates. But what will my nephews look like? Horned demon lions? I went cold at the thought, then took a few deep breaths, forcing myself to calm down. Why did I care what they looked like? As long as they were. Sata was no elf, and yet she had a certain, uh... I should just quit worrying about it. Donut mentioned that Alyona had also received this "favor," even though she theoretically shouldn't have. The children would be fine.

  "Plans still unchanged, Roman?" asked the rogue as he caught up with me.

  "Right. Today we rest."

  "Cool. Masyanya and Bonbon and me are going out on the town."

  "Sure," I nodded at the city gates. “So we'll ride into town, get settled in at the Rabbit, and do whatever errands we need to do, then tomorrow we get going.”

  The goddess would find me when she needed me, but the others could rest in the meantime. But seriously, will they all look like horned lions? I grinned inwardly and turned my boar towards the gates.

  ***

  The citadel bell struck three times to tell all the citizens that noon had arrived. The sharp spires of the duke's castle shone silver in the sunlight, dimmed only occasionally by wispy scraps of cloud. May. In the old world, it was the month I loved most. Probably the month I loved most in the new world, too. This was my first May in Arkon, and I very much hoped it would not be my last.

  I bought a fresh, steaming hot roll from a street vendor, and sat down on a bench opposite the gates of a temple, pulling a jar of milk from my bag to wash it down with. Everything I had to do here could wait. In fact, I had a whole day before I needed to do a thing! I sipped the milk and ran my eyes along the ten-foot-tall wall surrounding the temple grounds. Things were changing so quickly. It was just half a year ago that I first visited Nittal—and met that experience with a completely different set of feelings. Despite the festering pile of crap I was in at the time, I had still been captivated by everything around me. It was a real medieval city! All of the shops selling magic items, reptilian mounts, knights in full suits of armor... Naturally, by now I was getting used to it. Two paladins stood at the gate, one on each side, sporting armor but no helmets. Behind me stood a potion trader's shop, with a flow of townsfolk hurrying about between us. Back then I was still trying to process what had really happened to us. Now, I had already accepted it. What was so interesting about a couple of paladins standing still, anyway? Yes, I had certainly changed. The festering pile of crap hadn’t, though. If anything, it had grown much bigger.

  They had let us into town without any problems or tolls. We hadn't even needed to put up any titles over our heads. There weren’t that many players here, but since there were some, I released Gloom and put on my habitual disguise.

  The bread was delicious. Bread and milk had been common fare when I was a kid. Mom. Dad. I felt my heart sink. My parents had died only a short time before this world of eternal life had sprung forth. I sighed, broke off another piece of bread, and crushed it for the pigeons circling me. No one had touched Alyona's capsule. It was only for relatives, after all, and of no use to anyone else. I thought I had convinced my aunt to come, but no one answered her phone anymore. Maybe she was already here? We had told her the details of our lives here, so she could find us—if she wanted to.

  "Hey, outsider! I have a task for you!" My thoughts were pierced by a little girl's singsong voice, my eyes plucked up from the feeding pigeons. I turned my head and smiled.

  "And what, pray, is this task?" I asked as I watched the girl shift back and forth from one foot to the other.

  She seemed no older than ten, with short blond hair adorning those blue eyes. A simple blue dress with white polka dots completed the look. She extended a parchment scroll. Her name was Julie, and there weren't any exclamation marks over her head.

  "I have a map," she confided, nodding at the scroll she held. “The place isn't far, and
it has a lot of gold. I know you outsiders are always looking for treasure! One gold piece and the map is yours.” She shrugged, then looked nervously around her.

  I bit my lip to keep from laughing. The girl had seen how vigorously players went after quests and had put two and two together, deciding to make herself some money off of their eagerness. Quite the hustler, she was.

  "A lot of gold?" I raised my eyebrows and tried to feign feelings of greed, but then squinted with suspicion. “Where would a little girl like you come by a treasure map?”

  My performance was far from Oscar worthy, but the girl seemed to buy it.

  "My pops was in charge of a band of brigands. They robbed rich merchants all of their lives," she explained without a moment's pause. “But then the wardens caught him. I brought him food for a whole month behind bars. But then they executed him. Before he died, he gave me this map.”

  "Yes, brigands do end up with gold," I nodded sagely. “So why don't you go get the gold yourself?”

  "What would I do with that much gold?" Julie sighed and stared down at her feet. “Plus, my moms is waiting for me at home. I can't leave her for long.”

  "Of course, of course." I couldn't keep myself from smiling anymore. “But if there’s a lot of gold there, that means the map is worth more than one gold piece. Here.” I handed five coins from my bag to the girl.

  The sight of five whole gold coins seemed to stupefy the girl. Julie looked up at me with her huge eyes and hesitantly reached out—and then hid her hand behind her back.

  "I only need one coin," she frowned. “Not five.”

  I kept the smile and shrugged. "Then take one coin for the map and four for the story about your pops."

  Julie shifted back and forth again. She obviously wanted to take all five coins, but her conscience was preventing her. At last I could see her make up her mind to assuage both her greed and her sense of decency.

  "How about you give me the four for the story, then, and I'll just give you the map for free?"

  Crafty little girl. I approved.

  "Just take all five for the story, then. I'm guessing you need the money."

  "It's not for me, it’s for my moms! She needs to buy some fabric." The girl grabbed the coins, stuffed the scroll into my hands, and skipped away, around the corner of the house behind me. She was already out of sight as she said farewell. “Thanks, outsider!”

  Once she was gone, I unrolled the scroll. It had a funny face drawn on it, and as I opened it further, I saw it winking and sticking its tongue out at me. She was a better artist than I was, and she had lifted my spirits out of the gloom brought on by the thoughts of my parents. I tossed the remainder of the roll to the pigeons, put the scroll in my bag, and stood to approach the temple, silently hoping that no one would steal the money from her along the way.

  The abbot of the Temple of Myrt in Venern went by the name of Albus. He was of middle age, a bald man with a broad, stern, clean-shaven chin and piercing brown eyes. Apparently the developers had decided to honor Rowling's character in name only.Albus listened closely to everything I said, asked a number of questions, and then shared with me his vision regarding the spawn from the Gray Frontier. What he said left me in amazement for a full five minutes. The temple grounds had a statue of Myrt across from the main building—a carbon copy of the statue in Vaedarr. For the humans, they were equivalent in importance to the elven Mallorns. Thanks to the Nine Statues, located in all human capitals, the humans could move forces from one capital to another even under total siege. The city under siege had to hold out for one day, at least, while the statue accumulated some kind of magical energy, but once it was fully charged it could create portals. Any of the eight dukes could withdraw most of their troops from their city—and then bring them back when an enemy army attacked, along with additional help from the other dukes or the king. This magic only worked in the cities containing the statues, of course, but none of the other races had such an incredible power. That must have been why Kan was sure that Vill, after the death of Teiran, would go to the Orcish Steppe. The knight-commander must have assumed that I knew about the statues. But how could I have known?

  This was good news, of course, but no cause to relax. The Twice Cursed had sent Teiran to Vaedarr in hopes of seizing the human capital and turning it into his necropolis. Had his plan succeeded, all of the dukes and their legions and statues would have meant nothing. It had been a good plan, and cunning. But he would not attack the humans now, for they were on the alert, and victory would have to be hard-fought. Instead, he would go to the orcs. Was Vill scheming up something nasty for them, too? Or would he just attack head on? That remained to be seen.

  The news of a possible invasion by Rakot's army—the reason I had come to the city—had little effect on Father Albus. He would report to the duke that day and send a message to Father Sebastian, and the higher-ups would then decide whether the matter was an important one. Duke Daar had a full three legions under his command, and if Rakot did decide to turn north, they would have no difficulty holding out until the king’s troops arrived. But Rakot would not turn, and Vill would not come, either. It just wasn't practical anymore. But this was their country, so we would do it their way. I had kept my promise, and things were now in their hands. Time to sort out my own affairs.

  I bade Albus farewell, left the temple grounds, and hesitated. I wasn't hungry, and the day was only half over, so I had little desire to head to the inn. I decided to do something I used to do in my life on Earth. I never took tour buses or guided trips back then. What was exciting about going on an adventure where everything was determined in advance? Whenever I arrived at a new city in some foreign land, on the very first day I would rent a bicycle and ride around town in search of interesting places to check out. Not knowing the language made these excursions that much more interesting. But since bicycles hadn’t been invented in this world yet—and since I couldn’t summon Gloom again until morning—I resigned myself to walking and headed in the direction the little con girl had taken.

  In comparison to Earth cities, Venern was small. Probably under ten square miles. The population was in the thousands, maybe up to a hundred thousand, but I wasn't very good at guessing big numbers like that. In Earth’s Middle Ages, though, a city like this simply could not have existed. The main walls were over thirty feet tall and fifteen feet thick, with towers every couple of hundred feet. And there were more people out and about than in Times Square on any day other than New Year’s. We had heard about Rome and Constantinople and the Italian city-states as the Middle Ages ended, of course, but really seeing a city like this, that experience went far beyond learning and lectures. I made my way around a carriage three men were busy fixing on the side of the road, and turned down a quiet, narrow street lined with squat two-floor houses. A hundred yards later, I turned right again, and emerged into a fountain square. I paused here to get my bearings.

  A small temple with a triangular roof atop black and white marble walls attempted to hide from me behind blossoming fruit trees, just across the square. A wrought-iron fence about as tall as me surrounded the place. With a black-brown fox on the pediment above the entrance.

  "Hello, Sata," I whispered, considering whether I had come here by accident or purpose. This was most definitely not the temple Kert and I had seen in the picture in Ar-Iraz's chambers, so I was unafraid of a sudden fight breaking out. But I could not simply pass by. I had to investigate.

  "Honey cakes, three coppers!"

  I jumped at the voice of the boy passing by, sighed, touched the earring on my left ear, and moved towards the temple of the Goddess of Luck.

  No one guarded these gates. This temple was a fifth the size of the Temple of Myrt I had left half an hour ago, yet this goddess was revered in Venern, if the number of visitors was an accurate metric. I gave a moment's notice to the interwoven, forged leaves decorating the gate, and then entered.

  The territory within the fence was about the size of a typical athletic f
ield. Even rows of cypress-like trees, plants climbing over garden beds, and a path of alternating, staggered black and white marble slabs adorned the area. A ten-foot-tall statue stood facing the entrance. It was Sata, of course, and the goddess' eyes were filled with irony and perspicacity as she considered every being who came to her temple. Four girls tended the flowers, an elderly man trimmed the bushes under the trees, and about thirty guests milled about or sat on benches lining the path.

  I moved to stop beneath the statue, looking into her eyes without a word for a full three minutes. Nothing. I shrugged and made my way to the entrance of the complex's main building.

  I passed through a small portico and into a spacious room with little light. Low wooden benches and paintings lined the walls, interrupted by windows of black-and-white mosaic glass. Another statue of the goddess, an altar, and the smell of... the smell of her perfume. I cursed my sentimental nostalgia but stood there for a few minutes, remembering... Stupid, absurdly stupid. I couldn't love two women at once. Or could I, if one was a goddess and the other an elder demon? And yet, both were beyond reach. One in a pocket of reality, and the other, I hadn't a clue where. Point being, I could reach neither. Perhaps that was why I felt the way I did. Perhaps distance and absence really did make the heart grow fonder. Or perhaps it was just three months of abstinence. There we go. We’ll just say it’s that. Rage roared through my head, clearing out all of Cupid’s cobwebs. I opened my eyes and looked around, then grinned and headed for the altar.

  Belonging to something or someone was weakness. My rage had become a second set of armor long ago, protecting me from stupid thoughts. In this world, drooling got you nothing but wet feet. I'd rescue one of them and find the other, then build a tall tower in Craedia and lock them both inside it. I was an Elder—everything I wanted was possible. I imagined them both in that tower, Rapunzels with less fiber to weave and let down, and threw a handful of gold coins into the offering vessel without placing my hand on the altar. If she needed me, she would find me.