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CHAPTER 5: WHY I SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT TWICE BEFORE “BORROWING” THAT HOLY SWORD
< MAIN POV >
It took twenty-seven minutes, half a bowl of porridge, a mini-fight with one nap-hungry puppy-dragon, a dispute with Thena over my proclivity towards wardrobe malfunctions, and a negotiated blood-feeding session before we were ready to leave the house… kinda.
Because as I bring out a new parasol and step out the door, I suddenly recall something. I stop and slap my forehead. “Wait! I forgot something!”
“What now?” Two steps ahead and back into her evil-looking black armour, Thena turns around. But I’m already running back inside. “Oh, for fuck’s sa— Vicky!!”
“I completely forgot! Wait for a second! I’ll be quick!” I drop the umbrella by the bedroom door, close the window – just in case – and set out to work.
First, I bite down on my index finger.
“Owowowowow.”
Wuss.
Hey! Those fangs are sharp!
Heavy footsteps announce Thena’s arrival. I expect a comment, but she merely leans against the doorframe and gives me a warning glare in that you-better-not-blow-up-this-place-or-I-swear-I’ll-do-something-unpleasant style she has. I don’t pay her any more mind than usual and use my bloody finger to draw fast a summoning circle on the wooden floor. Through our bond, I can feel Thena tense – pointlessly, of course, I know what I’m doing – but she remains thankfully silent. She doesn’t even ask me what I’m doing, which I appreciate. I need to focus here.
She’s silent because she knows your answer wouldn’t be at all reassuring.
Ouch. That’s mean.
Truth hurts.
But I’m not doing anything dangerous!
…I think.
I mean, probably.
Well, anyway, once the bloody mandala is complete, I step back and fish a large book out of my inventory: Ambrose’ memoirs-slash-grimoire. I explain out loud for Thena’s benefit as I turn the pages, “The circle, I recall, but the incantation is a little… Oh. There it is.” I find the right page and sigh. “Ughhh... this is…”
It really is…
I take a deep breath, and I read the line I need out loud. “Ahhhhhhh… Nafl’fhtagn, ot mgepahmgep uh’e, ng nogephaii l’ ahnyth ymg’ mgleth uh’eog. Hup ya gn’th’bthnk Y’ ymg’ uaaah mgepnah bthnk. Nafl’fhtagn, Appleseed!”
What a mouthful.
Thankfully, Victoria’s [Diction] skill helps. I’ve been having a real blast with tongue twisters lately.
Hurray for free princess training.
Sure, ‘free.’ Not like I got cursed and metamorphosed against my will or anything. Not at all.
Hey. Look at is this way. A dumb, unqualified vampire ghost could have possessed you instead of a highly trained noble lady, and you’d be losing out on all those sweet etiquette and social skills.
Yeah. I’m sooo lucky.
Be careful. Thena’s grumpiness is infecting you.
GASP!!!!
Now, that’s just bad overacting.
While I have this little conversation with myself, the ritual proceeds. As soon as the last syllable left my mouth, the blood runes lit up. Dark blue smoke is rising from the glyphs and swirls in the air, then coalesces into a hircine form.
hircine (/ˈhɜːsaɪn -sɪn/), adj.: of, pertaining to, or resembling a goat.
…thanks?
Stop using archaic words nobody uses trying to feel smart.
The blood runes flake off the floor, leaving burn marks on the floorboards— err… oops? They float up to envelope the ethereal goat silhouette. Somehow, the drying blood turns into dark flesh and black fur, black horns and subtly glowing red eyes – and at a ratio that utterly disregards the laws of conservation of mass.
Are you applying science to an undead goat summoning ritual?
…point taken.
Let’s assume the sudden drop in my mana pool compensates somehow.
Let’s.
A second later, a familiar bleat fills the room. “Aaaaaaaaapp—” “Oh, shut it.” “–pghn!” Only to be cut off sharply. Newly revived, Appleseed almost chokes on the apple Thena threw in her mouth with surprising accuracy. The goat doesn’t seem too upset, though, and giddily chomps on the fruit.
Well, glad to see she isn’t too traumatised by dying again.
Maybe she reached a form of enlightenment?
“…at least it didn’t blow up this time.”
Hmm? I think I heard something ridiculous mumbled from Thena’s direction.
I pivot and catch a glimpse of the semi-orc’s too-tired-for-this-shit expression. I raise an eyebrow at her, and she rolls her eyes and turns away. “Let’s go. If we’re too late, my… contact might log out.”
“Who’s your contact exactly?” I put the grimoire aside, pick up my parasol and trot obediently behind the semi-orc. Appleseed follows behind like a loyal puppy – unlike the actual puppy who snorts disdainfully from his perch atop Thena’s shoulder. “Who is it exactly we’re going to meet? You only said her class was [Librarian].”
And that fact alone is enough to award this mysterious individual my utmost respect. [Librarian] is one of the most boring and tedious classes to obtain in this game that I know of. Learning ancient runes already left me half-catatonic from boredom, and the path to [Librarian] is AT LEAST ten times more tedious.
We’re about to meet a fucking legend.
“Someone I know…” Thena answers evasively, clearly unwilling to elaborate.
*jiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii*
That only makes me more curious!!!
But it’s not often that Thena wants to surprise me. So I won’t pester her.
Your ability to interpret everything as it suits you never ceases to amaze me.
Yep!
…it wasn’t a compliment.
Yep!
You ain’t listening to a thing I say, are you?
Yep!
We exit the house, at last. And Appleseed doesn’t burst into flames or scatter into ashes when she is exposed to the evening sun – which is always nice. I didn’t think she would burst into flames, but it’s good to get confirmation.
The house is located close to the cheapest section of the merchants’ district, in the complex maze of narrow and encumbered streets that mark the frontier of the not-quite-slums of Start City. Paradoxically, this portion of the merchants’ district is also one of the safest areas of the city. Many newbie players swarm the place to sell their low-quality pelts, claws, venom sacs, and other beginner mob drops. And their ilk is always ready to overzealously jump in at the merest hint of trouble. They all hope that their heroic action will trigger a hidden quest leading to some mysterious OP secret class.
Too much web novels…
Meh, it’s not bad reasoning. Although, I got my mysterious OP secret class by tripping on a wet floor inside a library, so… maybe it is.
…
Anyway. Good luck, kids.
As we leave, I see no sign of the pervert fox— I mean, of the kind beastman who sheltered us and helped cover up the murder I committed in broad daylight in the middle of the street.
Oh, yes. That vampire woman died. Thena reported that just now…
Well, too bad for her. She shouldn’t have tried to rob me in the first place.
Besides, her cloak and mask bore the emblem of the Night Walker guild – that vampire guild lead by the guy who pretends to be me… Brusque Lord, or something. Musk Lord? Cluck Lord maybe? Eh… Doesn’t matter. The point is she should be a player. She’ll be fine.
That information on the emblem, by the way, was offered by Archibald, who’d spoken to Thena before leaving to do Bob knows what.
Steal more panties, probably.
He didn’t even say goodbye.
Bastard.
I suggested to Thena that we take a page form Night Walker’s book and conceal ourselves to avoid the attention to the City Guard. But my well-intentioned suggestion got shut down immediately by my straight-laced green companion.
As she sees it, if it comes to a confrontation with the nice guards, we can always accompany them to the guardhouse and clear up this misunderstanding with good old-fashion talking. “At worse, we’ll get fined for disruption of public peace and insulting a law enforcement officer,” she said with a shrug, and that is all we discussed of the matter.
Talk.
Talk?! Hah! How cutely naïve!
Young Padawan, much to learn you have.
Truly spoken like someone who’s never been arrested.
How disgustingly rational too.
Yeah. So horribly logical.
Talk with law enforcement and clear things up. Pfffffft. Hahahahaha.
Hahahahahaha.
Hahaha… haha…
Haha…
Ah?
…
……
………
Why did we never do that again?
Because most of our offences required capital punishment, and we were unquestionably guilty.
Oh, yes. Yes. Yeah… That— That would be a good reason.
I still think it’s a bit harsh to hang a man for spanking a prince in public.
Laws are harsher for players.
That’s discrimination!
Though... we do respawn… so that makes sense… I guess.
“Who was that fox, anyway?” Thena suddenly interrupts my musings.
“I don’t have the faintest idea.”
“You didn’t know him?”
“Never seen in my life.” She must see I’m as confused as her, because she believes me without further question.
“There were those gorgons too…” she continues and shoots me a glance. I shake my head with a helpless shrug. “Do you often meet strange people like that?”
I give her a slightly mean-spirited smirk. “It happens. Though most don’t try to kiss me while I’m unconscious.” She has the good grace to blush and don’t bring the subject up again.
However, she increases her pace, forcing me to jog to keep up.
How petty!
But, right, who were those people?
…
……
………meh. Never mind.
We’ll probably never see them again.
Right… Where did I put those flags again?
…
* * *
Twenty minutes of “walking” later… Seriously, that’s not walking she’s doing! That’s running with style.
“Thenaaaaa! Slow dooooown! I’m tired!”
“Endure it. We’re almost there.”
How merciless!
“I don’t wannaaa! Carry me!”
“No.”
“Whaaa! Thena is meaaaan!!”
“Ahhhhhhhhhhh…” She lets out a looooong sigh. “How old are you?”
I preen. “I’m cute, so it doesn’t matter.”
“……” Thena’s shoulder slump and I swear I can see her eyes roll through the back of her head. She rubs her forehead.
What? I promised I would try not to act out on my own. I said nothing about acting mature.
Everything comes with a price, dearie~
Despite my whining, I jog to catch up to Thena. “By the way, where are we going?” I’ve been following her, but I haven’t paid much attention to the direction we’re headed. I’ve been too busy drooling at the candy stalls and anxiously watching out for city guards.
I’ve also found myself distracted by jewels and pretty dresses on display.
I mean, with a body like mine, it’d be a shame not to dress pretty!
Oh! Those earrings are shiny— Ah! No! Focus, Nick. Focus.
…Seriously. Are you a dhampir, or a magpie?
Focused on her objective, as usual, Thena doesn’t look back when she answers. “We’re going to the Royal Library.”
I nod distractedly. “Oh. Well, it makes sense for a librarian expert in coded runes to be at the Royal… Li… braaa…” The words finally make it to my higher brain, and all motor function stop in my body. I freeze in my tracks, muscles suddenly paralysed. If my face weren’t already bleached white, it would have drained of colours. “The Royal Librareeeeee?!” My voice breaks.
My squeak stops the semi-orc. “What—” She turns around just in time to see me spin on my heels fast enough to get whiplash and start running the opposite way.
“Neverminditdoesn’tmatterlet’sfindsomeoneelseokrightIknowaguythoughhe’sabitexpensive.”
…I wonder why my feet don’t seem to gain purchase on the ground.
There’s a certain feeling of déjà-vu.
“Hah!!!” Suddenly, I realise Thena has grabbed me by the back of my dress and hoisted me up in the air like a misbehaving kitten. “Noooo! Release me!! I don’t want to gooooo!!” I thrash – ineffectively.
“For fuck’s sake! Stop acting up. We’re going, and that’s it. I thought we talked about this. You can’t keep changing your mind all the time. You’ll never get anything done. We’ll never get anything done.”
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“I’ve been getting along fine so far!”
“So you didn’t need me to bust you out from that tower?”
“That was that, this is this.”
“We’re going, and that’s final.”
“Nooooo!! I don’t want to goooooo—”
“And shut up, or I’ll gag you.”
“……”
Hot.
Shut up.
“You’re bothering other people.” Thena gestures discreetly at the crowd shooting glances in our direction. “I know what I said about the guards, but I’d rather not waste time and money dealing with an arrest and a fine if I can avoid it. It’s your money we’ll be using to pay the fine, by the way. Let’s make this clear.” She drops me on Appleseed’s back and continues walking without looking back – confident I’ll follow, or maybe not caring if I do.
“……”
I share a glance with the goat.
“……”
“……a-a-a-aaapple.”
Her dull red eyes look like she understands my pain somehow.
Nah. She’s just hungry.
I sigh and urge my mighty mount forwards… towards the Royal Library.
Geez. The things I’ll do for this damn authoritarian woman.
You love when she orders you around. Stop denying it.
I grumble something unintelligible under my breath but chose not to comment further.
* * *
Another twenty-three minutes later, now on my two feet again, I eye the tall building before us with suspicion while nervously twirling my parasol. “I don’t know about this… Thena, why don’t you take the orb and meet that acquaintance of yours? I will stay here and... meditate on the meaning of life and how to keep mine intact.”
I try casually handing the runic device to her, but she pushes my hand away. “What are you talking about? I can’t read runes, and I wouldn’t know what to ask for, so of course, you’re coming with me.” She cast me an annoyed look – or just a normal look. She always looks annoyed at something.
Usually at you.
Usually at me.
“In the first place, it’s for you that we’re here,” she adds.
Can’t argue with that.
“I know that. It’s just...” Again, I look warily at the immense building hulking over us.
It’s a neat building, actually – in an Ancient-Rome-meets-fantasy kind of style, all in massive colonnades and masterful bas-reliefs. Beautiful in a cyclopean way, each stone block taller than Thena. Moreover, when I concentrate, my sensitive senses can pick up the faintest soft hum of some unseen but warm and welcoming power. The place is objectively marvellous.
But to me, it’s dreadful. Not because of the building itself but rather what’s inside the building.
“You’re not afraid of libraries, are you?”
“Afraid of what now?” I shoot a look at Thena, but by her expression, she wouldn’t be overly surprised if that were the case.
Well, it’s nice to see she’s adapting.
I say it’s pitiful her expectations for you are so low.
Paying no mind to Ariel’s snide comment, I repeat verbatim what I’ve been thinking. “It’s not the library. It’s what’s inside the library.”
“Books?” Thena’s left eyebrow rises questioningly. I facepalm. I’d like to think she’s joking – but this is Thena we’re talking about. She wouldn’t recognise humour if it punched her in the face. She’d probably punch back and kill it. Her tone and expression are both dead serious.
Between my fingers, I direct at her a dull, unamused glare. Her eyebrow rises another notch.
I quickly lose the staring match. My shoulders drop, and I sigh. I’ve been doing that a lot, haven’t I? Sighing. “Ahhh... Whatever. Let’s just go in.” I motion forwards in defeat and walk towards the entrance. Who knows? Maybe he won’t even notice me with this appearance.
And maybe the sun will rise in the west wearing a tutu tomorrow?
Yeah… that’d be more likely.
The front of the Royal Library has thirteen gates, all monumental, ornate, and wide open. Even this late in the evening, a constant flow of people is crossing in and out – logical when so many fantasy races are nocturnal. Besides, most players don’t keep any sort of schedule.
Many passers-by give us odd glances, trying and failing to do so discreetly. Humph! It’s almost as if they’ve never seen a petite, fashionably-dressed albino girl – I’ve ditched the cloak since the sunlight is lessening – a tall, brawny, grumpy, copper-haired semi-orc warrior goddess wearing a black cursed armour, a possessed stuffed puppy sleeping on her shoulder pad, and their pet black goat with glowing red eyes who may or may not be faintly smelling of rotten flesh. I wouldn’t know. The stench was so omnipresent in Erwyn that I don’t even notice it anymore.
I thought we discovered undead don’t actually rot.
But why do they smell then?
Beats me… Maybe… err… be-cauuuuuse–
Weren’t you the one advising me against applying logic to necromancy?
You win this one.
A good side-effect of the wary attention, though, is that the crowd is easily parting before us. It may also be because Thena is scowling at everyone as if she might rip off the head of the first who bumps into her.
She’s such a thug. It makes me wet.
You don’t have to make it awkward, Ariel.
I contemplate saying something, but then shrug and walk in, dumping the parasol inside my inventory as I step out of the sun. There are no windows inside the Library. Bright managems take care of the lighting. You’d barely notice the difference – unless you’re sunlight sensitive.
The front doors lead to an atrium vaster than a football field, extending all the way up to the very top of the building. Far, far above our heads, the painted cupola is almost too high to distinguish what its magically animated fresco represents. Right now, the image shows simple grey clouds drifting slowly across a light purple sky. However, I’ve seen the cupola display hundreds of scenes, from grandiose fireworks displays to unsettling swarms of centipedes.
My theory is that the Library is actually sentient, and the ceiling displays its mood. It’s a valid theory, considering the sheer amount of mana coursing through its walls. But I’ve only ever found hints and never actual, tangible proof.
Still, I always make sure to treat the books with extra care and never walk in with dirty feet.
Thinking about this, I give a quick mental command to my interface, and indoors slippers appear on my cute little bare feet. They’re too big and tend to slip off, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.
You never know. Rule 231 of Elric’s little Travel Guide: “Philosophy of Life and Deaths.”
But as majestic as everything else in the Library might be, it’s at the centre of the entrance hall that stands its uncontestably majestic-est feature. A truly gigantic double helix staircase rises towards the distant ceiling, each side broader than a three-lane freeway to accommodate the multitude of visitors. At a glance, the steps seem of normal height, but mysteriously anyone will find them perfect for their own size, from the tiniest races to the colossal ones. Like many things about the ancient building, this is powerful magic that scholars are still scratching their heads over. In the middle of the stairs, a translucent crystal tube encloses two lifts – in fact, two rune-covered platforms that rise and fall without regard for gravity.
You’d think I’d be blasé after seeing it so many times. But I find myself staring in awe as I did on my very first day here. Deep inside, I know this is all computer-generated. But at this very moment, I feel like a child discovering fairies are real. And every time, I’m glad I can still be amazed by the beauty of this virtual world. The day I lose this sense of wonderment at every little and big thing will be the day I kill Elric Walker for good and give up gaming to become an accountant or something.
*Shudder* Please don’t think that again. It feels disgusting. Like swarms of boredom bugs crawling all over me.
On each of the many, many floors, a circular landing is connected by eight elegant stone bridges to a faux-open walkway circling the hall. These pathways are separated from the atrium by transparent, almost invisible crystal panels, giving the illusion nothing stands between people walking up there and a potentially lethal drop. The bridges themselves are carved finely as to mimic ephemeral lacework, seeming as if a breeze might shatter them. Nothing could be further from the truth, however. A first-hand experience taught me of their actual solidity.
A first-head experience, I’d say.
I fell from the topmost floor and pinballed down five bridges before crashing into a sixth.
The bridges didn’t even budge.
Can’t say as much about my spine, unfortunately.
Fond memories.
Snapping out of my daze, I rush to catch up with Thena. Unsurprisingly – if disappointingly – the semi-orc didn’t even slow down when we entered. She marches straight in, focused on her objective and completely disregarding the enchanting architecture.
I mean, even Appleseed looks more interested than she does!
That, or the goat is just panicking because of the number of people around us.
The streets were busy, but the entrance hall of the Royal Library is truly crowded. Appleseed grew up near a village of fewer than fifty inhabitants, and her first experience with crowds was being run over by a zombie mob. I can understand how that can traumatise a person …goat.
Thena’s steps are even longer and more powerful than they were outside. The crowd splits before her, and I end up half-jogging to keep up with my semi-orc. Thankfully, the artificial light inside spares me the sunlight debuffs. Otherwise, I’d be crawling on the floor and begging for the sweet mercy of death by now. That said, when we reach the stairs, and I see Thena entirely snub the elevators, something in me screams in terror – my legs, probably.
I scamper to try and stop her, but she is unshakable.
“We’re taking the stairs. It’s faster, and we’re only going to the third floor.”
“Third?!” I gasp. “Did you see the height of the floors in this place?!” Like the stairs, the ceiling can comfortably accommodate races way exceeding human stature – with the difference that the ceiling isn’t enchanted to fit everyone. It’s just stupidly high! And thusly so are the floors!
In fact, the space inside the Library far surpasses what its outside appearance suggests. Like a certain emblematic blue telephone box from a certain emblematic old hit British TV series, ‘it’s bigger on the inside’ – and about as convoluted.
“I’ll be dead before we reach the second floor!”
“We’re not taking the lift. End of discussion.” Thena glares at me, turns around and keeps walking, her feet heavily stomping the floor. If I weren’t tottering on the verge of exhaustion, I’d find her behaviour adorable. Right now, I find it frustrating.
I wheeze pitifully. “What? ...You... You’re... claustrophobic... or something?” I see her stiffen, and her steps falter just enough that I know I hit the nail on the head. “Wait? Seriously?” I’m flummoxed – what a beautiful word, flummoxed. Bottling up the excruciating pain in my calves and thighs, I speed up and circumvent the semi-orc so that I can see her face. “Seriously? Even though you had no trouble being underground?”
She glances down at me fleetingly but quickly refocuses straight ahead. At first, I think she’s just going to ignore me, but then she grumbles, “It’s not the same thing.”
“How? And if we’re taking the stairs, carry me.” I raise my arms with a pout. “I’m serious this time.”
She shoots me a glare.
Gosh. Can’t she do anything else?
But she does it so well~!
…she does. Dang.
“Can’t you ride on the goat?” she grunts.
As a reply, I wordlessly point one of the – strangely numerous – signs dotting the ground floor.
This one reads, [Riding is strictly forbidden inside the Library].
On a side note, the neighbouring signs sate: [Please do not animate waffles within the Library], [Do not skate in the hallways with your genitals exposed], [Do not summon any more snurgles], [Do not post fake signs], [Do not annoy the snurgles] and [Seriously, don’t]. Other similar warnings, each one of them oddly explicit, lead to believe someone caused very specific troubles.
Someone.
Hahaha. Who could it be, I wonder?
“Vicky, why are you whistling?”
“I’m innocent!”
Her eyes narrow.
Quick! Change the subject! “Ah! But never mind that! I’m too tired to walk, so carry me!” I insist, again raising my arms towards her. Thena glares once more, first at me and then at the people who’ve stopped to watch the scene. Again, the gawkers quickly find other things to look at.
Eventually, she relents and picks me up in a bridal carry.
Cute dhampir: one – Big angry green lady: nil!
No, I’m not enjoying this way too much.
“Hehehehe...”
“…stop laughing like that. It’s creepy.”
Aw…
Thena starts climbing the stairs with the air of someone walking to the gallows. And by ‘someone’, I mean the hangman, not the sentenced. “How is riding forbidden, but carrying people isn’t?” she grumbles.
“Not yet.”
“Hm?”
“Oh, nothing, nothing,” I deflect and snuggle comfortably against Thena’s cool armour, throwing a smug smirk at Toto, who snorts disdainfully and looks away. I think I hear Thena groan in annoyance, but that’s not my problem. I’ve had enough worrying about Miss Grumpy Face for today.
We reach the third-floor landing in no time – at least it feels this way because I may have taken a very quick nap. I make no move to get down and, after a pause, Thena resigns herself to her status as palanquin. We cross the closest bridge, and she takes a right turn afterwards without a hint of hesitation. The people are fewer now that we’ve left the atrium but still numerous enough that Appleseed sticks to us like a cub to her mamma bear.
Several more turns bring us to less-travelled hallways. Gradually, the last remnants of the crowd disperse until we reach a deserted area. Not that there’s anything unusual about it. Considering the sheer size of the Library, despite the crowd in the entrance hall, most of the building is empty. I’m not even sure there is an end to the place. This could very well be a completely separate dimension inside that goes on forever.
The truth is, this building predates most of the city, even the palace. It’s an ancient magical relic from a time long past, animated by a consciousness no one truly understands.
There’s something kind of Lovecraftian about it.
Thena pushes a door and carries me into a silent room of stupid proportions and full of bookshelves – well, that much is expected from a library. I won’t waste my time describing all the fantastical contraptions hovering in the room or all the magical phenomena surrounding us. Otherwise, we’d be here for a week.
I will, however, mention the bucket and mop abandoned near a patch of wet floor, and my horror when I noticed them.
“Thena…” I whisper, trying and failing to mask the tremor in my voice.
“What is it this time?”
“We need to run.”
“What? Why—”
“BY THE SUN ALMIGHTY!! ARE MY OLD EYES DECEIVING ME?!” A booming aged voice shatters the religious silence of the library.
“…too late.”
“Now, now, now. What do we have here, I wonder?” The voice continues kindly, each word stabbing knives of cold fright in my spine. Mechanically, I turn my head around and meet a pair of steel grey eyes surrounded by a dark wrinkly face. The eyes narrow in a smile that is yet not a smile.
I try to smile back and only manage an unsightly grimace.
“Oh, he-hello… Been a while, eh… Master Grisal. How have you… been?”
* * *
[ DUSK LORD ]
The handsome, slender vampire stood up from his chair in one fluid motion, his long, pale fingers unhurriedly dragging over the table. He took the black cloak handed to him by another nightkin and threw it on with a flourish. His cold red eyes found the bulky human sitting opposite him. The man appeared both pensive and uncomfortable.
“My offer stands, Guildmaster Heracles.” His voice was as smooth as the white leather gloves he was slowly donning. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me. But please, don’t delay too much. Time is of the essence if we are to seize this opportunity. I have already received positive answers from several guilds, and I am expecting more by the end of the week. Dither about, and you will miss your chance at glory.” He walked towards the door, the second vampire falling into step subserviently.
About to cross the threshold, the handsome undead paused. The two brawny guards by the door tensed, ready for a fight, but Dusk Lord merely smiled over his shoulder, showcasing his sharp fangs. He lightly tipped his head. “Have a nice evening.”
He spun back towards the door and, throwing his hood up, walked out.
...
Leaving the Sons of Zeus’ headquarters, Dusk Lord hastily made his way out of the main street to a narrower, darker and less-frequented alley. The sun was slowly setting, but the threat of its light was still present. And the Vampire Lord’s ego did not allow him to hide behind a mask like the rest of his blood-thirsty followers.
Dusk Lord never liked the sun, even outside the game. To conserve his tan, he’d always preferred the controlled environment of tanning salons to the haphazard natural equation of sun-bathing. However, these past few weeks had transformed his dislike into boiling hatred. He was increasingly frustrated over the crippling weakness of his chosen race – one which stifled their potential he otherwise knew to be game-breaking!
This is stupid. Dusk Lord wasn’t used to setbacks.
In the real world, he was Edward Dabbler, Whatever Incorporated’s internationally famous spokesman and rich PR Director – and People’s Sexiest Man Alive two years in a row. His story, from rags to riches, was the stuff of epic novels. Smoothness, good looks, a superior ability to read people, and a carefully honed friendly personality had provided him with the keys to many doors throughout his life.
But he wanted more. He wanted an empire at his beck and call. Using his position as a top executive, he had easily influenced the developers in charge of designing the vampire race, to tweak it subtly into his perfect vessel of power. He’d tailored it to his liking – almost to his liking. Hatter’s pet AIs had kept Edward from fully crafting the invincible powerhouses he’d dreamt of!
That damned tea addict!
Nevertheless, Edward knew of all the vampire’s strengths and weaknesses and how to exploit their potential. There was no one better suited than him to govern the entire race. And to do so, his knowledge of the game's inner-working had allowed him to exploit a loophole to obtain the best variant race for his plans: [Vampire Lord].
The only piece of information that had eluded the man was the way to unlock vampires as a playable archetype. The game itself set those conditions to fit its lore. The exact algorithms were known only by Whatever’s Head of Development, Kevin Hatter.
That damned tea addict!
And that crazy, hat-wearing, tea-loving, scatter-brained fool of a man was another kind of nut altogether – one even Edward couldn’t hope to crack. For all his eccentricities, even Edward had to acknowledge Hatter was a genius – but a mad genius whose mind Edward had no hope to comprehend.
That damned tea addict!!!!
“Master?” A voice paused Dusk Lord’s internal grievances. Hiding a reflexive satisfied smirk at being called ‘Master’, he glanced at the pale man by his side. The slender vampire also appeared to be his real-life secretary – a male secretary. Although Edward far more enjoyed the company of the weaker sex, he had a very definite opinion of the abilities and duties of the females. And Lafayette was far too efficient and competent in his job to replace him with a more enchanting creature for the sake of eye candy.
For all his faults, Edward Dabbler hadn’t gotten where he was in life by being completely irrational – at least in business matters.
“Yes?” The lord returned his eyes to the path before him, mentally mapping his way back to Dusk Manor.
“Do you think Sons of Zeus will come around?”
“Doubtful,” The meeting they just had with the leader of the Greek-themed warrior guild played back in Dusk Lord’s mind. “Horizon has too much clout over these ‘honourable’ brute types. Never mind, they were a long shot from the start.”
“Isn’t there a risk Heracles might warn them?” Lafayette questioned neutrally.
“Not if they know what’s good for them,” Dusk Lord replied with a dangerous smirk.
Night Walkers might seem like a guild in its infancy, but their actual power was much, much more than it seemed – or should. While Edward himself had waited to enter the game and officialise their existence until vampires were unlocked, the guild had unofficially existed for months. Using insider information, his agents in the game had been gathering resources since early after the launch. Combined with vampires’ innate talent for working in the shadows, the new Night Walkers already had the means to suppress medium-level guilds like the Sons of Zeus.
“And even if they did, they don’t know much,” he continued. “We should focus on…” His voice trailed off. From the end of the alley, a cloaked and masked figure was rushing in their direction.
The Night Walker stopped before the Vampire Lord and bowed deeply. “Master, I have important news.” A male voice came from behind the mask, slightly muffled. “It’s about Lady Isabella.”
A finely chiselled eyebrow rose a tiny notch on Dusk Lord’s face. “Speak.”
“She’s dead.”
That gave the lordly vampire pause. Although Isabella could be too eager and often reckless in her urge to please him, she was a skilled enough player, and with her character built, she should at least be able to escape with her life from any encounter within the city. A quick check of the Night Walkers’ list of members confirmed the little skull icon next to her greyed-out name. Dusk Lord frowned, annoyed. This was unexpected, and he didn’t like surprises.
“How did it happen?”
Stiff under his Guildmaster’s glare, the subordinate vampire launched into a hurried but detailed explanation involving a pair of players whom Isabella had given chase to, leaving her fellow guild members in the dust.
The Lord’s eyebrows twitched. That woman… She had probably ditched her fellow scouts on purpose, hoping to rack up achievements for herself. He’d tolerated her desire to show-off to him because he found it somewhat cute and flattering, and it encouraged her growth – and thus her usefulness.
But he’d also believed she could keep her head cool enough to avoid trouble. It would seem he had been overly optimistic in that assessment. Well, that’s what he got for overestimating a woman. As expected, bitches need to be strictly disciplined. A mean and lustful ruby light shone in his eyes.
As he listened more of his minion’s report, however, his excitement gradually changed target. A vampire who can withstand sunlight? And a female one at that? He couldn’t let pass such a boon! Once he obtained her secret, she would make a nice addition to his growing harem. Maybe I’ll give her Isabella’s position. The Shadow Huntress could use some humbling, and this mystery player had bested her. Not to mention he’d enjoy watching the catfighting that would inevitably result. Females are such simple creatures.
“Lafayette,” Dusk said after the kneeling man had finished his report.
“Already on it, Master.” Without the need for verbal exchange, the skinny vampire had already figured out his master’s will. This skill was what made him such a good secretary. His eyes lost focus for a little while as he conversed over the guild chat. Dusk Lord could, of course, have done it himself. But such menial tasks were beneath him.
Eventually, Lafayette straightened. “One of our members saw a pair corresponding to the players’ description entering the Library a short while ago.” There was no need to specify which library. There were several across Start City, but only one that mattered enough to be called “the” Library.
“The Library?” A strange light flashed through Dusk Lord’s eyes as he rubbed his chiselled chin. Spinning on his heels, he once again started walking at a brisk pace – but not anymore in the direction of Dusk Manor. “Gather enough of our members to cover all the exits. That woman doesn’t leave without our knowledge. When she does, capture her and bring her to the manor.”
“Understood.” Lafayette nodded. After a short pause, he then asked, “Are you joining in on the capture, Master?”
“No. Since we’re going to the Library, I thought I’d visit an acquaintance.” His tone was leisurely, but the light in his eyes was one of pure sadistic loathing.
Both Lafayette and the other vampire thought wise not to pry further, and they rushed after their lord and master. The vampire secretary, since he also worked for Edward in real life, actually had a pretty good inkling as to whom the vampire lord was referring to.
Unbeknownst to the other two, his passive expression briefly tensed in displeasure, but that vanished in an instant like it never existed.
* * *
[ NARRATOR ]
After the trio of bloodsuckers had vanished from the scarcely frequented street, the raggedy beggar who’d been sitting slumped in the shadow of an old wine barrel opened his eye, stood up and cracked his furry neck. Despite the vampires’ enhanced senses, none of them had noticed him.
“Hehehe… How interesting. How very interesting. Better go warn our little lady Apostle.” The dirty foxkin casually dusted his bottom, picked up his empty coin mug, and limped away, whistling a broken, off-key tune.
* * * * *