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

by G. Akella

  Reality blinked... The Ancients are retreating, Loaetia is sobbing over the Guardian's lifeless body. Alak and Kirana are kneeling nearby... And the Great Forest's leaves are rustling, bidding farewell to its chosen one.

  As he opened his eyes, Max pressed the squealing Glitch to his chest.

  "It's all right," he whispered. "Everything will be all right... I promise."

  The math was simple enough. Twenty points in all, assuming death, one attack and three protections. Presently, he had two extra points. The buffs' effectiveness was doubled. Only Phallet was no longer in the picture.

  Max considered that as he stroked the trembling animal. The combined power of the Great Forest had stripped Halephos of only fifteen percent life. The gods had been virtually powerless against the combined defense of the three brothers. This time the attack would be twice as strong, but still...

  "Enough of that now," Max smiled at the pet, holding him out at arm's length. "No need to keep squealing. We'll think of something."

  His familiar was crying. Real tears were trickling out of those black beady eyes. The creature's body was still in Max's grasp, but his eyes... Whatever doubts he had harbored that this was just a simple pet were gone at that instant.

  "Yes, enough," Max pressed the creature to his chest, stroking the back with his palm. "They will not pass! I won't let them. No more whining, OK? Nothing has happened yet."

  At those words, the weasel became very animated. Slipping out of Max's grasp, he squeaked merrily, grabbed his master's pant leg and started pulling him toward the door. Max followed and exited the cabin after the animal.

  Great Forest. Silver Grove. Zone level: none.

  This was an awakening in the truest sense. He sensed... everything! The faint breath of the wind, the chirr of grasshoppers, the distinct scent of every flower and leaf. He could even count the number of butterflies fluttering over the grass. The sensation was similar to one he had once experienced in his past life after accidentally inhaling concentrated ethanol fumes. Max reeled, but managed to keep standing. Glitch jumped onto his shoulder, and his mind cleared. Or rather, it split. All of the emotions and sensations of the Forest were screened. He knew that he could access them at any time, but at this present moment he was back to being Max. Max the shapeshifter. Max the Shadow of the Night Hunters.

  He took a deep breath as he came to, then took a look around. The night he had seen from the windows of his cabin had turned to day, and there was no trace of the cabin itself. He was in a verdant meadow, lush with young buds and hundreds of butterflies of every shade of the rainbow. Roughly half a mile ahead swayed a boundless silvery ocean. Mallorn trees. In his former state he couldn't fully appreciate their beauty, but now he was frozen in awe, finally sensing that very favor he had once talked about to Roman. Like the smile of a beloved, a sip of light wine or the smell of morning coffee, the sensation couldn't possibly be reduced to words. And these examples paled in comparison by many orders of magnitude.

  Overwhelmed, Max didn't immediately notice Alyona. The girl was sitting on the grass, one leg bent with her back leaning against the short trunk of a sapling, seemingly asleep. There wasn't anyone else in the vicinity. Max held his breath as he took a step toward his wife. Glitch hopped off of his master's shoulder out of delicacy, darted to the side and got up on his hind paws, suddenly looking like a prairie gopher. But the Guardian couldn't shake his stupor, his worries back with a vengeance. What if she balked at the sight of him having aged so badly? Sure, she might get used to him eventually, but he would remember her first reaction for the rest of his life.

  Fighting the treacherous tremble in his knees, Max walked over to his woman and sat down carefully next to her. She looked so beautiful. Dark-green patterned pants accentuated the leanness of her legs and matched the brown of her boots perfectly. A lime-green blouse peeked out from under a leather cloak. The beige horns were barely visible under a leather band that held together a mane of flame-red hair. Her chest rose and fell in tact with her breathing. He really didn't want to interrupt her sleep, but he had been missing his beloved for so long...

  That was when Glitch, who had grown tired of play-acting a gopher, came to the rescue. In three short hops the critter was at Max's side, squeaking at his master who had frozen in admiration of his lady. Alyona started and slowly opened her eyes.

  "Max?" she whispered in disbelief. "Max! You're alive!"

  The next moment she was hanging on his chest, sobbing into his shoulder. Just as she had done back then in Talyan when he first found her.

  "Don't... don't you ever leave me again..." Alyona whispered through the sobs. "This world... I don't want it if you're not here, understand? I can't imagine what you've been through, and I'm not letting go off you ever again. You hear me?!" she backed away and gave him a light punch in the shoulder. "Don't ever leave me again!"

  "I won't, I promise..." Max was stroking her trembling back, just as he had done then, and feeling the same sense of total bliss. "I, uh... I've aged a bit," he finally said, looking down.

  Alyona smiled through the year. "Elves don't age. You just changed your appearance, is all. You're the same Max as before, even better!" She kissed him on the cheek and stepped back, and then noticed Glitch sitting nearby. "And what's this little wonder? Is he yours? Can I feed him?"

  "Yeah, he's mine. And he is a wonder indeed. I wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for him."

  "Do you eat roast snake, Little Wonder?" Alyona fished out a treat wrapped in cabbage leaves from her inventory and laid it down in front of the critter who was watching her carefully.

  Glitch glanced at Max, apparently to try and assess the level of trust between his master and this biped, then wagged his tail and accepted the treat without standing on ceremony. Max felt a sense of relief.

  "Well? Tell me what happened! Where are all our guys? Are there news from Roman?"

  The young woman stopped him with a gesture. "Later. There are some kind of special laws in this place. I was instructed to meet you and take you to the Council's Terrace. Great Prince Goherym is waiting for you there. Afterwards I'll have you all to myself. I know, I know—none of them can order you around anymore, but it sounded important. It's not far, maybe a quarter-mile from here."

  "I know," Max smiled. "I also know that he's waiting anxiously. And since it sounded important, would you let go off of me for a little while?"

  "Go, go. I'll nap a little longer," the demoness grinned.

  Max waited for his pet to finish his treat, then kissed his woman on the cheek, turned around and started toward the Council's Terrace.

  The terrace was a cultivated rectangular structure with a wide wooden ladder interlaced with wild blooming vines leading to the top. Large benches lined the walls around short hand-carved tables over a dark-green grass carpet. This had been the historical site of negotiations between the light and dark elves.

  The head of the High House of Marten was standing still in the corner of the terrace, arms crossed over his chest, deep in thought. Upon noticing the arrival, he stepped forward, put his right hand on Max's left shoulder, and bowed his head in a greeting.

  "Lesuilanta Heb Atar Taure!"

  "Lesuilanta Cano Alta Noss!"

  Max duplicated the gesture, then looked at the Great Prince searchingly.

  "I understand that the Council has tasked you with talking to me? The gods are busy with their own affairs, my blood brother wouldn't be capable of having this conversation, and you are the only ruler that I've established a relatively decent relationship with?"

  Goherym glanced at the bench to which Glitch had taken a liking, then looked Max right in the eye.

  "Great Prince Irwine, he—"

  "He was following Urkhunt's orders, and I bear no ill will toward him," Max shrugged. "Also, before we get into it, let's agree to skip the formalities. We had a perfectly fine conversation last time, so let's not fix what isn't broken. Sure, there have been some changes since then, but I'm still the
same Gray Cat with very superficial knowledge of elven politics and world order. For instance, I see that the elves hearkened to my words, but I struggle to understand how a thousand-year-old war can be forgotten in a day. I am astounded by my people over this feat."

  "I understand." Goherym made an inviting gesture, waited for Max to take a seat on a bench, then sat down next to him, his head low and his fingers interlaced. "The truth is that nothing was forgotten, Max. But this memory won't allow us to repeat history. You arrivals from another world can't understand, at least not yet, what the will of our Allfather, as voiced by his Guardian, means to us. Remember when I told you that it is precisely your people who will help us thwart the coming invasion?"

  "Last time it was the Winged Lord Phallet, who was responsible for the Ancients coming to Karn in the first place."

  Goherym nodded. "I know. Your friend has already informed us of that through the dwarves and his own people. And also about the Source hidden in the mountains, the Azure Valley, and the possible birth of a new god. Thanks to him and his companions, humans and dwarves will be sending their legions to the Great Forest. Who would have thought..."

  "A new god?"

  "We had a visitor a few days ago that came by portal to the Wild Wood. One of the people who had followed the Black Demon. He delivered a message to your blood brother, who, in turn, passed it along to Irwine. Your friend has met with Merdoc's shadow, who warned him of the danger looming over our world. When the Ancients reach the Source of Power hidden in the Kraet Peaks, they will create a New God who will manifest all of their hatred toward this world. Only he will be able to return them to Lemuria, but he himself will remain here."

  Max nodded. "I see. And what of Teiran?"

  "The Lord of Darkness was vanquished in the Vaedarr catacombs, but the Twice Cursed God summoned a couple of Fallen Gods from the Dark Ocean, and is now stronger than ever. He has brought his army to the border of the Steppe, and that is where your friend has gone." Goherym leaned back on the bench, contemplating the bright-red buds of a vine coiled around the nearest tree. "The attack on the Steppe will happen any day now. The Ancients and the hordes of the transformed will cross the border of Siruat Heath three days from today. Our world stands on the brink of destruction..."

  "I don't imagine this is why you've waited for me here? I could have learned all this from my own people," Max peered questioningly at the Great Prince as he scratched Glitch behind the ear.

  Goherym produced a map from his bag and laid it out on a table next to the bench. "I wanted to discuss the details of the upcoming battle. This is where our united army is stationed. We expect humans and dwarves to start pulling up tomorrow morning."

  "Wait!" Max protested. "Give me something positive, at least. For instance, who's going to rule in the Great Forest going forward?"

  "That's hard to say," Goherym said, managing a smile for the first time in their conversation. "The Council of Princes has chosen King Larentyl to lead the united elven army. For the immediate future, the elven people will be ruled by a council of three Great Princes. Then, when the dynasties mix and produce offspring, the Council of Three will choose those who prove themselves most worthy of the honor. This is how things used to be, and we will carry on the tradition if our people survive these troubled times."

  Max stared the Great Prince in the eye. "Wasn't it prophesied to you that the invasion will be thwarted with the aid of the outsiders? Then that is what's going to happen."

  "A prophesy is only that—a prophesy. And far from a sure thing," Goherym shook his head, his voice breaking. Then he nodded at Glitch lounging on the grass. "Before the battle is upon us, I wanted to ask you... Did Allfather really forgive us? It is very important..."

  "Why don't you ask him?" Max looked over at his familiar with an arched brow.

  The weasel seemed to know exactly what had been asked of him. He paused for a moment, then ran over to Goherym and looked up at the Great Prince. The two stood perfectly still for a few seconds, as if frozen. Finally, Glitch nudged the elf in the knee gently, hopped back into Max's lap and slid his face into his palm.

  "Thank you..." Goherym whispered. He raised his head slowly. The weathered face of the dour thousand-year-old warrior glistened with tear streaks. "Thank you... This is indeed very important to us all. Come, Heb Atar, we must discuss details."

  It was several hours later, when the sunset dyed the tops of mallorn trees a coat of gold, that Max returned to Alyona.

  "Is that your definition of 'a bit'? Or did you drop by a bar on the way back for a beer with the guys?" the demoness demanded, feigning outrage. "Our friends are waiting! And we still got a lot of ground to cover from Urkhunt's sanctuary!"

  "Oh, you know, one beer leads to another..." Max quipped. "I hear Roman sent a letter with Donut?"

  "Indeed, he did. And you know what that rascal wrote?" the young woman frowned. "That horned demon-lion hybrids would make cute nieces and nephews!"

  "Damn right!" Max chortled. "We mustn't deny the world such unique offspring. And the sooner, the better."

  "What, like right now?" Alyona looked at him suspiciously.

  "And why not? We are wild animals, are we not?" Pulling his woman toward him, he whispered. "Besides, I can tell you with full authority as the Guardian of the Great Forest that there isn't a soul around for miles. Not counting crickets and butterflies."

  "But our friends..." Alyona tried to protest weakly.

  "Our friends are patient, they can wait a little longer. Wait for us here, Glitch, we won't be long!" With a smile, Max took his woman by the waist and led her toward the bushes growing nearby.

  Later, they ran side by side through the forest. A large lioness with reddish fur and an enormous gray lion...

  They exited the portal at Urkhunt's sanctuary when the moon, round and yellow like a pancake, was already high in the sky, its bottom edge tearing at the treetops surrounding the meadow. A familiar smell of censer tickled the nostrils, mixed with aromas of pine needles and wildflowers. The tops of firs swayed in the wind, welcoming.

  "What is that?!" Alyona exclaimed from behind him.

  Glitch growled furiously, but Max could already see that something sinister was happening. Two of the four pillars framing the altar of the Phantasmal Wood's master were wrecked to their foundation, the altar itself was cleft, and deep serpentine cracks ran along the side of the cat on the pedestal.

  Max felt a sudden bout of dizziness as the moon flared brightly like a torch doused with gasoline. A sharp pain tore at his chest as torrents of strange but friendly power inundated him. The next moment, the Gray Lion leaped on top of the ruined altar.

  The brown moss was springy under his paws. The Phantasmal Wood welcomed the Guardian with scents of rot and forest mushrooms. His keen ears heard a furious roar, then the snapping of teeth and somebody's death rattle. A few dozen yards ahead, Urkhunt was fighting three beasts woven of pure darkness. Each had three billion HP and looked similar to the "Doberman" mounts of Darkaanese scouts, only about ten times larger. Urkhunt had toppled one of the monsters and was tearing at its throat, but the other two were hanging on his back. The lion had less than half his life remaining. The corpse of another beast lay nearby, its spine shattered and its neck unnaturally twisted. Finally, an enormous thirty-foot monstrosity was moving toward the scene of the battle from the nearby trees, its steps heavy on the rotting ground. At fifteen billion HP, the thing looked like a mix of a grizzly and a mountain gorilla, with a squarish torso, paws rippling with muscles and clumped dirty brown fur. The monster clutched a broken gnarled tree trunk as it approached.

  You've accessed the quest: Defending Phantasmal Wood.

  Quest type: artifact, unique.

  Help Urkhunt, the master of Phantasmal Wood, to stop the followers of the Ancient Gods from breaking through.

  Reward: experience, unknown.

  Phantasmal Wood was part of the Great Forest. These bastards dared to attack his home! Max didn't hesitate for a
second. Clearing the distance with one long leap, he pushed off one of the Dobermans hanging on Urkhunt with a swipe of the paw, then sunk his teeth in the back of the neck of the other one. Disgusting sludge oozed into his mouth, but he only clenched his jaw harder and jerked violently to tear the second opponent off of Urkhunt.

  "Max!" he heard Alyona's voice. It was distant, as if coming from another dimension.

  But he wasn't Max anymore. There were no skills to use, no attacks to rotate. He was pure power and rage! He knew that the Dobemans were no danger to them, but he and Urkhunt would not survive a fight with the swamp troll, the companion of the god Urgot, pumped to the gills with the Ancients' power. One of the three living Dobermans bit into Max's shoulder, but Urkhunt, having tossed aside the lifeless body of his target, pounced on the attacker at once, toppling him.

  He felt no pain... Only rage and hatred!

  A cool wave of healing washed over his shoulders, clearing his mind for a moment.

  Alyona! Get away! Max bellowed to her mentally.

  Fat chance! she snapped back at him.

  The Doberman convulsed under him and was still. Shoving the corpse aside, the Gray Lion glanced at Urkhunt, who was busy decimating his opponent, then turned stepped forward to meet the companion of the swamp god.

  This will be a glorious battle. The thought flashed in his mind as another huge monster leaped out from behind him, kicking up dirt and moss. The new arrival was a terror to behold. A mix of canine and reptilian features, it measured more than fifteen feet at the shoulders, sported silvery bone armor with curved spikes on the neck and sides, and a gigantic maw. The troll swung his club, but just then his feet were entangled by roots springing out of the ground, and the monster smashed into his burly chest. The troll came crashing down to the rotting ground, splashing Max with filth as the sudden savior began to literally rip the vanquished giant's body to pieces.