The Battle (5 page)

Her invisible bat hit the coin mid-flight and sent it right back. The coin whistled like a bullet right over my ear. It ricocheted off the steel shield of an off-duty squad captain just as he approached me. The loud ring drowned out his swearing. The coin ended up stuck in an oak pole.

The demon accompanying me growled discontentedly: demons were wary of silver. Yet the coin caught the attention of some devil child running by. His eyes twinkled greedily.

Damn,
I thought,
these girls are like jedis!

"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee..." I whispered in amazement.

"Aye-aye, sir! That’s exactly why our guys nicknamed her that!" said the captain excitedly.

His shield was covered with notches. His right leg barely moved due to a recent injury. A bracelet with typical Drow markings adorned his mighty wrist. It was the bracelet that a she-elf marks her chosen one with.
Looks like the guys are having a good time here indeed
.

"How are things overall?" I asked, twirling my finger ambiguously.

"Fine. Asmodeus is restoring the army. We’re terrorizing the enemy, crawling over their castle walls. Every night we follow your orders and search the Drows for any unique traits."

"Yeah, while mapping their birthmarks and intimate hairdos?"

The captain ran his hand over his bracelet pensively, and smiled. "That too... The girls are flaming hot!"

I shook my head. "Easy on the epithets. I’d rather hear you call them Sweet and Tender Kitties. The AlterWorld is malleable like clay. We bend it, it bends us. Every random word or thought has weight. You hit the critical mass, and your flaming-hot girls might just set you on fire. So watch it!"

The captain nodded solemnly. "Understood, Sir. Thank you. I’ll make my pussycat perfect. I’ll be an ass if I have to. She’ll follow me to hell and back! Like we’re one!"

I glanced appraisingly over the 180-level warrior’s mighty frame and smiled. But his face remained serious. "I’m not making the same mistake twice," he said. "I went perma by choice, out of depression. My kids grew up, and love gave way to routine existence. Why I stayed with that bitch, I can’t say. She’d walk around the house in a faded bathrobe, her hairy legs sticking out, her lips pursed accusingly. She’d given me the best years of her life, you see, and for what? Joe’s got a better car, Bob’s house is bigger, and Bubba’s got a longer dick. I got sick of it all!"

I looked him in the eye and wondered if he’d cracked.

The captain smiled understandingly, sounding optimistic as usual. "Don’t take this the wrong way, Sir! AlterWorld’s my home. It’s where I became myself, not the clown that the TV and the teachers tried to make me into. Not whom my parents wanted me to be. I am now the way I had always dreamed of being since long ago. But somehow I’ve forgotten my dreams. This world is crystal-clear, and so are we. No need to suck up, lie, or grovel before anyone. It’s all simple and fair! I’m strong, handsome and healthy. There’s gold in my pockets, armor on my back and a sword in my hand. My bed’s filled with beauties, my friends fight by my side!"

I envied his way of looking at things.
Where can I get a pair of such rose-tinted glasses?
I wondered. That’s new life euphoria for you. Hormone rush, adios enlarged prostate gland and memory loss. Time got turned back. Fifty years in reality minus two years of perma, and you have a twenty-year-old captain. Magic math.

Feeling like a smartass old bastard, I made a note in the planner:
hold off this fellow’s promotion until he faces reality.
He hadn’t been crucified in the dark dungeons yet. Hadn’t dug up slaves from their damp oblivion after they had been buried alive for several years. He didn’t see the situation clearly, which could prove dangerous on active duty.

I was distracted by a messenger imp. The creature was patiently shifting from foot to foot, clopping his hooves on the stone tiles. The blacksmiths must have shoed him as a joke.

Having caught my glance, the little creature reported that the temperature in the Archdemon’s private chambers had been lowered to reasonably tolerable. A warm chair was awaiting me along with a glass of magic mulled wine and an attractive succubus from Asmodeus’ personal escort. As the messenger talked, his brow twisted in an obscure manner as if he had no control over it. By the mix of jealousy and bliss on his muzzle, I could tell I had been granted a marvelous reception.

I nodded, tossed the demon a silver coin and headed to the castle entrance. The demon hissed and oohed, juggling the coin like a hot potato. At last he managed to throw the tip into his skinny wallet and hurried ahead of me, courteously opening the doors and showing me the way. His tail wiggled at the thought of what he could spend his unexpected tip on.

As far as I knew, silver was rare in Asmodeus’ dominion. The precious metal was reserved for military purposes.

Asmodeus’ study was rather hot: he was clearly nostalgic about infernal resorts. The roasters in the spacious room were still giving off tiny streams of smoke when I came in. Soft armchairs and a table laden with snacks had been politely placed by the open stained-glass window.

Asmodeus looked tired, a bit emaciated but happy. A massive demon was sitting next to him, his silver armor glistening with spikes and magic runes.
Poor furniture.

Asmodeus said with a friendly gesture, "Have a seat and meet Lightfighter. He’s my right-hand man and the general of the legendary Silver Legion which we will surely get back in shape with Inferno’s meager grub! If only you knew what it took to pluck its essence from the Virtual Worlds! But it was worth it. It will bring a hundred times as much gold as had gone into the pentagram! Those stupid puppets spawned out of the Well of Power are no match for the True One!"

I stared at the real-life demon in bewilderment, and blurted out the first thing that came to mind, "Why does he look so... lost?"

The general really didn’t look very well. His gaze was vacant, and he was drooling as his fingers crushed the oaken armrests, making them creak.

Asmodeus laughed. "Don’t be afraid to say it: he looks like an idiot. But it’ll pass. Give him time to pull his shattered mind together. Two thousand years of oblivion can really leave a mark."

While Lightfighter was busy defragmenting his memory, I nearly went nuts in disbelief. Did Asmodeus really turn to other realities, or even to the Great Nothingness itself to retrieve the soul of his ancient ally?

What if?! Taali!!!

I waved away the succubus that had crept up behind me and tried to give me a gentle shoulder massage, warming my neck with her hot breath. Leaning forward, I asked anxiously, "Can you pull anybody out? Even if they died in a different reality?"

"A mortal?" the demon asked in a business-like manner, sensing a potential profit.

"Yes!" I nodded, brimming with hope.

"When did it happen?"

"Almost three weeks ago!"

And... fail.

"Impossible... the soul won’t last more than nine days in the Great Nothingness. It will drink from the River of Oblivion and fall asleep, awaiting its next incarnation. Had this been a Great Hero, a Mighty Emperor or a Theomachist of some kind covered with unique astral marks, then sure. The marks are like shields. They help temporarily preserve the mind and prevent emptiness from penetrating the subject’s consciousness... The soul of a mortal is about as firm as fog. Someone like you, who has become a little firmer like clay, would’ve lasted about forty days. Lightfighter is pure silver, although he was on the edge. Two thousand years is no joke. And I am noble steel! The gods are mithril and adamant. The stars will go out, yet they will remain, waiting and hoping..."

I hung my head. Asmodeus said insightfully, "Don’t disturb her... Nothing good will come of it. Let her rest. She won’t recognize you now. Until the soul reaches the next level of perfection, a series of rebirths await it with short naps in between. A larva needs room to grow."

Sighing heavily, I nodded. Sleep, Taali. Sleep, my dear.

Asmodeus hurriedly broke the pressing silence. "How is our mutual business? Did the dwarves speed up the order?"

I tossed my head, driving the sad thoughts away, and said slowly, "I told them it’s a rush order. Aulë paid them a personal visit and gave them his blessings. The first ammunition and weaponry is already in stock. Sorry, but I can’t open portals to send it. It’s too expensive. The clan treasury’s become a zombie mice cage."

I paused for a second, blushing in embarrassment. Yeah, the kids summoned the mice in a snap! No spells or ingredients! So I had to try it too... and what was the quietest place in the castle? The treasury, of course!

I didn't have the heart to destroy the raised creatures. The wide-eyed rodents, digging through the gold, reminded me of one fat-cheeked piggy...

So now they lived among the coins, ingots, and mithril waste, squeaking discontentedly when Durin would bring in an empty cart, and purring happily whenever his cart was filled with coins. They even helped unload it, which was why the noxious treasurer reconciled himself to their existence and even gave them an allowance.

I cleared my throat. "Ahem... I’ll send your legions to the Valley at X-Hour. You can pick up your gear then."

Asmodeus shook his head and said, "The astral watchers have crossed all limits. All neighbors are watching my dominion. The moment the troops leave, I’ll have guests from all the four sides of darkness."

"So we need scare tactics! To make them afraid to even look at you!"

Lightfighter suddenly moved. He wiped away his drool and emptied the goblet of precious wine in one gulp. Then he grabbed the succubus refilling his goblet by the waist and cried excitedly,

"Let’s crush the strongest enemy in a surprise attack!"

I shook my head. "Hello, once again. It’s a good idea, but now’s not the time. You’ve yet to familiarize yourselves with Verenus’ abandoned lands. Expansion is unwise if the new borders cannot be protected. I suggest we... hm... show off the power of the Inferno and the Alliance combined. We’ll get more mercenaries, heavy artillery, golems, platforms with mobile dome shields, and siege and field machinery..."

The two demons’ eyes flashed in synch. "A legions’ march!"

"Let the ground shake beneath our feet!"

I nodded. "Precisely! We could then officially invite audiences from the neighboring dominions and the press. They can have a proper look, we’ve nothing to hide! There’s no power like ours in all Inferno!"

Lightfighter said pensively, "I fear they might join forces in the face of an external threat..."

Asmodeus waved his hand dismissively. "Those jackals can’t trust each other."

I smiled. "I can have ambitious clans infiltrate the lands of any new alliance. My place is teeming with candidates."

"So it’s settled! In five days, we march! I’ll have emptied out the Well of Power by then. We'll have something to show! A toast!"

We clinked our golden goblets together. "Here’s to our partnership!"

The hot, sweet, two-year-old mulled wine enriched with spices burned my throat and gave me 90 Strength points for the next four hours.

Some wine cellars Asmodeus has! I could use a few myself.

"Asmodeus, I have a favor to ask..."

The demon grunted ironically. "Of course! What can I do for you? Someone needs a body switch?"

"No... I mean, yes. I do... You see, I have to get into Tavor’s body. Can you do that?"

Chapter Five

S
elected letters from Laith’s mailbox:

Sender: Bug <
Grumblers >: Congratulations on the successful destruction of The First Temple! I hereby declare you an idiot!

After your show of strength and the incredibly powerful artifact, they finally started to take you seriously. The invading army is recruiting allies; everyone wants to join. The new Europeans alone boast over fifty independent units.

The Polish, the guests from the Great Kingdom of Ruthenia and the Ivano-Frankivsk State, the German Totenkopf clan, the Lettish Forest Brothers, the Rodents from Free Georgia, and the knights from the Restored Livonian Order will all be paying you a visit.

Also, look out for the new clan, Just Cause. Their goals: to fight the dark terrorists, to free the child hostages, and to establish a protectorate over the First Temple.

Thanks to their infinite monetary resources, they were able to quickly recruit over two thousand high-level mercenaries, equip them with high-end gear and gain all the gaming mass media support. Their officers are mostly cyber-athletes from English-speaking clusters. Instructors in camo fatigues have been sighted. Their class and clans remain unknown.

Sadly, we also have leaked important information. The forced AlterWorld improvements have been noticed. Our sworn friends have decided to take us out in a snap. Unidentified caravans with gold have been sneaking from castle to castle by night. Info packets with fabricated breaking news are available for free.

The Russian cluster is like Mordor at this point. An eternal battlefield with ruins and molten brick.

Stand strong, boys! The First Temple is our source of power now. Our folks’ve always favored the dark side of RPG and willingly obeyed its mighty rule. We must not disappoint them. We must strike! Preferably first and without giving the enemy the chance to retaliate.

I’m offering you a subversive act coordinator. A one-of-a-kind pro who passed our scrupulous selection process and was fully trained by the Company. Take good care of him."

Sender: ххххх : "After many a risky effort and serious expenditure, I've managed to acquire the battle plans of the more aggressive Asian cluster forces.

On the Shui Fong clan’s initiative, a Revanchist coalition has been formed, totaling twenty-seven thousand warriors. One quarter of them will come to the First Temple on low-immunity day. The rest will storm the castles of the Guards of the First Temple alliance.

Upon a successful siege, each castle will be looted and destroyed. Then it’s on to other goals. All of the Russian cluster navigational beacons have been taken into account. A supplementary exploration was conducted. Trophy storages and slave pens have been prepared. Chains and window bars have risen in price. Territory maps have been updated.

Take heed, my Lord! Spies have been recruited from among the Alliance’s top ranks. Unfortunately, I can’t confirm the names or the coordinates of the castles under siege. Attached please find a list of the most prominent allies and enemies of the Revanchist clan.

The Mao’s Legacy clan is paying dearly for working with the Russians. The Maoists will be crushed within the next few days if they don’t get help. Most of the country dwellers are waiting. Quite a few sympathize with the Russians. However, in the event of a conflict of interest, national pride will overpower all external influence...

P.S.: I ask to be compensated seven hundred thousand gold. Artifacts, spell scrolls, and additional financing are required to acquire further information. Attached please find a detailed list."

Sender: Dan : "Sending you three Torches of True Light like you asked. Careful! Theft and espionage have become a real problem.

Seizing information, pawning, kidnapping and robberies are a favorite pastime for both novices and high-ranking companies, damn them all to hell!

The new torches are virtually gone from the market. As you know, they can be acquired only when a dungeon is visited by a player for the first time. Outward expansion has noticeably slowed after the turmoil in the AlterWorld’s political arena. Inferno is more promising in that regard.

I hope you will do us a favor and allocate a dungeon for farming? Levels 200 and up, with a bigtime boss?

P.S.: The messenger will also give you twenty Large Accumulators. This is not a gift!!! (2 million gold, nevertheless!) Could you charge them with mana at the ‘Laith Oil’ station? Will pay you back in those torches and with our hospitality!"

P.S. 2: Your cigarette business share for this month is 105,000 product units. They’re taking up storage space and attracting thieves! Open a portal, or I’ll send them to you by caravan!

P.S. 3: It’s General Frag’s b-day tomorrow. Don’t forget to congratulate him, he’ll be pleased!

Sender: Administration. Technical Support Service. < AI Scarlet-9. Stream:112>:

Warning! 417 complaints have been filed against you in the last 24 hours! Due to the number of complaints, the case has been investigated by an AI lawyer.

Due to the following violations: Blind aggression, Racial and Religious intolerance, Intentional large-scale damage of virtual corporate property - your account has been blocked for 30 days.

You have no right of appeal according to EULA section 16.4.

Report of administrative breach sent to the Virtual Police.

Sender: Virtual Police. Penal Department. < AI Crimson-14. Stream:771>:

Your digital passport has been marked for a 7
th
-degree administrative breach.

Minus 9 Citizen Loyalty points.

Your free VirtNet access has been limited for 365 days. A surveillance unit will be installed on your equipment upon your next login.

Cost of unit is 210 gold rubles. Thank you for your cooperation.

Tavor’s corpse looked pretty beat up. The adamant shoulder wound never closed, and continued to bleed onto the gold embroidery of the gray velvet cloak. A look of hatred and fear was frozen upon his bloated face. The drooling body was swaying monotonously and shifting from foot to foot.

With a deep sigh, I looked into the enemy’s vacant eyes. The spark of insanity was long gone. But the threatening serpentine stare remained, making you want to clench your first and scowl as if by instinct.

The last thing I wanted was to slip into his loathsome hide. It might soil my delicate astral essence, the Fallen One forbid. Things like these weren’t just used underwear: they were soul containers. A washing machine would not help.

Procrastinating unwillingly, I squinted at the scarlet sun. "Asmodeus, the Fallen One knows about this. He’s watching me. So please, no surprises. Let’s prove each other’s trust, reap the benefits, and part ways peacefully."

Asmodeus shook his head as if offended. "But we are allies!"

I replied with a crooked smile, "You’ll never have weak fools as allies. You’ll eat them alive. So let me remind you, I’m neither weak nor foolish."

I hoped he didn’t sense a change of heart, for the longer I delayed, the more doubtful I grew.

I was forced into this risky venture by the lack of time along with the habit of doing everything myself. If I succeeded, I’d be a hero. If not... I risked losing my immortality.

Alright, it’s time,
I thought.

Straining, I carefully pulled a 500-pound aerial bomb out of my inventory. The sand in the Arena creaked under its weight. Whatever happened, I would not allow my body to remain with Asmodeus. I did not wish to be his puppet.

I’d put on a suicide bomber's belt if I could, programmed to self-detonate. Just to be sure. But this was a feature the game didn’t yet offer, and I couldn’t think of a similar alternative.

But I was willing to work with what I had.

I handed Nelson the detonator and sent him a duel request. "You know what to do. In case of an attack or if I exceed the time limit, or if you receive a command from someone named Tavor, it’s detonation time. Plan B: if the bomb doesn’t work, just kill me. I’ve no buffs or gear, and just over six thousand HP. Once I’m down, it’s all crits, so you should be done in no time. But first..."

I sent Nelson a private message:

Chop off my right hand. Never mention this order to anyone, it’s secret. Understood?

The ear-chopper nodded. I handed him a parcel that he was to give to me; a small bagful of valuables. Mostly charms, survival kits and communication devices. Also personal abilities and spell scrolls on parchments; Gates, Portals, Banishment from Darkness, Religious Outcast, Astral Mana Absorption, etc. All those things that set me apart from the average players.

"Give it to me after the soul transplant. Do not forget: I am Tavor. Yet he must confirm his every order with the password I gave you."

That’s it, I’ve burned my bridges. I turned to Asmodeus. "Let’s begin!"

I wasn’t afraid of being watched: all potential blabbers had been chased away. Only NPCs were left out in the tiny inner yard: my loyal servants and Asmodeus’ demons.

Asmodeus smiled promisingly, shook his hands and, reveling in his power, taunted:

"Fear not, it won’t hurt. A direct flight. No layovers in the Fiery Gehenna! Boom, ready!"

My heart skipped a beat on the word "boom".

But "ready" had a different effect. Pain shot through my shoulder. A wave of hatred and fear swept over my consciousness. Tavor’s body was overfilled with raging hormones.

Unable to balance myself, I fell to my knees. Tavor's body had an odd center of gravity. A foreign mind entered my brain, shutting off my instincts and rapidly taking control.

My heart raced in fear. I inhaled hoarsely, taking in air into my reluctant lungs, nearly all of my muscles cramping.

"Goddamn..." escaped my dry lips.

The sounds of healing magic came from nearby. My loyal clanmates were doing everything within their power to alleviate my suffering.

Slowly I went from minced meat to a steak well-done, so to speak. Asmodeus moved his hands like a psychic, smoothing out the invisible folds. He said soothingly, "You’ll get used to wearing it. It won’t feel so tight. Now, had you missed, that would have been a real discomfort..."

"What?!" I stared at him indignantly, distracted from the panoply of new inner sensations.

Asmodeus shrugged indifferently. "What’d you expect? This isn’t a petty heart transplant. Your soul could have failed to acclimatize. You risk your life even squeezing a zit, with infections and all. Alright, don’t fidget. Your shoulder wound has opened up again, it’s festering. Seraphic adamant, blast it thrice!"

Asmodeus furiously scratched the star-shaped scar on his neck. I looked at my shoulder. After the healing magic, the wound had dried and closed up a bit. But it was far from being in fighting condition. Shards of bone had pierced the bluish skin and sparkled sugar-like under the infernal sun.

Damn... I had hit Tavor good...

"A bad wound," noted Asmodeus. "To ruin such a quality body! It’ll take six months to heal, if it heals at all. You should re-consider how you jab your spear into anything that moves. It’s a heart of a dead god, not some rusty pigpen post!"

Ignoring his grumbling, I turned to the ear-choppers. "Bandage me up good. Butterfly, make a shoulder belt with that foppish scarf of yours. My arm’s dangling like a flaccid cock."

The warriors tensed up, but didn’t move. I frowned at them, perplexed.
Well, don’t be so pigheaded! Wait... Oh, right!

Cursing, I turned my dry eyes to the virtual interfaces that I struggled to open.
What a cascade of windows! Like I’m in a different game! Epileptics, turn away now or a seizure’s guaranteed.

The familiar default GUI styling was gone, replaced by a bunch of stupid frames, relief shadow fonts, and useless communication and channel stability indicators.

The myriad of highlights and the marks of the custom fan mods made my head spin. The forms around me were designated with critical points. HP notifications flickered all around. A paid duel stat log and a PK-counter estimator loaded up from some external database. They were followed by an aggression indicator, favorite attack combo, and much much more.
Damn cheater!
Be you banned eternally in
the Bundle of Nerves’s
body!

When I finally located the private messenger window, I sent the ear-choppers the password, "Thirty-two, orange, Wolf."

Instantly they rushed over to me, sticking out their shoulders and supporting my reeling frame on all sides. It wasn’t easy. Tavor had changed significantly since I last saw him. The 300-level warrior was like some epic ballad hero: broad as an ox, with a four-hundred-pound iron forged body. Boy, did the bastard fatten up...

The injured joint would crunch every time black blood spurted from the wound. The ear-choppers suddenly had to learn field medicine. I hissed in pain, cursing the adamant along with Asmodeus. This divine metal needed to be controlled! I wish they’d ban private ownership!