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Algoritm of oblivion
“Are you implying that they can’t come here because of him?” – asked the dwarf.
“Maybe. Ordinary cursed ones avoid the territory of bosses,” replied Darriel.
“Guys, wait, I don’t have any curses and I’m definitely not a monster, at least I don’t know about it.” Max raised his hands in conciliation. “This is my start to the game. I appeared here.”
“Strange… it turns out that the artificial intelligence of the game made you a super difficult start.” The dwarf scratched his beard. “This location is not recommended to visit until level 20.”
“Accept the request to add to the group, I want to look at your characteristics. You have nothing to hide, do you, Max?” Daria-Darriel did not calm down.
Player Darieel invites you to join the group: Yes\No?
“Okay, but how do I do that?” Max asked, feeling insecure.
“Just agree, verbally,” Darriel replied.
“I agree,” said Max.
Quest “Allies\Enemies” Completed.
Description: In the cursed city you met a group of adventurers, uniting with them you found new allies.
Type: Random event.
Reward: Experience +15.
Experience to the next level: 1140 (+15) \1200
Now, Names and brief characteristics appeared above the heads of the new comrades. Just as Max’s characteristics must have become visible to them.
Name: Darriel (Ally) Race: Dark Elf Age: 32 Level: 21 (Master 1st stage) Class: Monster Hunter
Name: Redbird (Ally) Race: dwarf Age: 38 Level: 18 (Senior weaponsmith apprentice) Class: Weaponsmith
For some time, they studied new information about each other. The girl was a “dark” elf, or as they were also called drow, perhaps this explained her non-standard appearance for fair-skinned and clear-eyed elves.
“Time Keeper? What kind of class is that?” the archer was surprised.
“But now we know for sure that he is not a vengeful spirit,” the dwarf remarked.
“What kind of classes do you have, are they unique? I didn’t see anything like that in the task of choosing a game class,” Max asked.
“No, we have the most common ones,” Redbird waved his hand, “her ‘Monster Hunter’ is just one of the subspecies of ‘hunter’ or as it is also called ‘archer’, and ‘weaponsmith’ is a type of ‘merchant’, a craftsman selling his own goods, but I see one like yours for the first time, which god became your patron, Einar?”
“Einar?” Max raised his eyebrows in surprise, “why are you calling me that?”
“That’s your game name… I see it in your statistics. Role-playing is important for the game, those who do not immerse themselves in the Lore receive penalties from the system, so I advise you not to violate the game rules and respond to this name. So what god do you have, the one you serve?”
“My divine patron?” Max remembered the completion of the recent quest. “It’s the One.”
“It’s amazing, I’ve never heard of the One interfering in the affairs of people, accepting sacrifices, or giving quests,” said Darriel.
“And what kind of god is that?” Max asked.
“The supreme deity of the local pantheon. He is also called the Incomprehensible or the Creator, he is everywhere and nowhere, he is the law of the universe, order and chaos, he created all the worlds and retired, he is the god of balance, time and higher justice,” Redbird flashed his knowledge of the game lore.
“Redbird, my quest is closed!” the archer exclaimed, “the one to find a weapon capable of stopping the advance of the Light Alliance into the dark lands.” She finally lowered the crossbow, “He’s the weapon!”
“A boy with level 11? How will he be able to destroy the Alliance’s army of mercenaries? The gods truly have an inexplicable sense of humor,” the dwarf smirked.
“Artem, aren’t you overdoing it? You’re talking like a fifty-year-old,” Max laughed.
“I am almost fifty here in the game, so everything is within the rules. And what are your special abilities? What is your background, why did you appear here, are there any hints or tasks?” asked the dwarf.
“I don’t have a background, or rather I don’t know it. And from the skills: Teleportation,” Max replied.
“Really, show me?!” the elf admired.
“I haven’t used it even once yet. And I don’t know how to use the abilities,” Max confessed.
“Okay, it will happen at the right moment in the plot, you just need to move on,” the dwarf explained, “the game system calculates and prescribes each character their own unique story.”
“Yes,” the elf continued, “For example, Red’s parents’ caravan was attacked by bandits in childhood, and he scattered them with his magical surge of rage, thanks to which he and his family managed to escape. But then it reflected badly on him. Circumstances determined the choice of his unique ability, and this is a military ability, it is useless for a merchant. Therefore, he is 48 and he is still not a master weaponsmith. It’s hard to compete with those who have the blessing of the gods when you don’t.”
“And why not just become a warrior then?” Max asked.
“dwarf society is divided into castes, warriors are lower in the hierarchy of their state than merchants, so he must continue the work of his parents, despite the fact that he does not have the abilities for this,” Darriel replied, without thinking about the fact that her words might offend the dwarf.
“Is it necessary to spill other people’s secrets like that?” the dwarf quickly wound up and fell into a rage, “dwarfs live for 300 years, I will still have time to become a master. And you,” the dwarf poked a finger at Darriel, “with your sick head and visions will suffer for the rest of your life. She thrashes on the floor for half a day and there is no use from her.” he nodded to Max, “She groans like a cat in March! The chosen one must come… the weapon of retribution… it is nearby.” the dwarf rolled his eyes and waved his hands in the air depicting a fit.
The crossbow string clicked, the arrow grazed the dwarf’s cheek and pierced into the tree behind him.
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, you… little bastard…” Darriel hissed.
System message: You have desecrated the holy place with bloodshed. Leave it or the curse of the One will fall upon you. Time remaining: 15 sec… 14… 13…
“What the… What have you done? What are we going to do now?! The temple is surrounded by Darks, and we can’t stay here now.” The dwarf grabbed his head with his hands. “Sator, tear me apart, why did I join a party with an elf… Divine curses are the worst thing in this world, we better go outside and let them tear us apart on the spot.”
“Maybe we’ll go up to the roof?” Max remembered his way up.
“That won’t work, we will still be considered within the radius of the holy land,” the dwarf replied.
“There is also an underground passage,” Max pointed to the round hatch cover in the floor, “but I don’t know where it leads.”
“Screw it! Let’s go!” The dwarf pried the hatch cover with a knife and, tearing it out of the entwining roots, jumped down. The elf pulled the arrow out of the trunk of the tree of life, putting her hand to it for a second, whispered “Sorry” and jumped after.
8… 7… 6…
Max had no choice but to follow them.
Underground, the system of passages divided into three tunnels at once.
“Which of the three passages?” Max asked.
“It doesn’t matter! Any!” the dwarf rushed into the tunnel located in the center.
V. DUNGEON OF THE CURSED CITY
Only after moving a safe distance from the temple did the dwarf take a torch out of his travel bag and light it.
“We need to hurry, now we are receiving damage from the cursed land again and it is growing, which means this passage leads deep into the city. We don’t have so many health elixirs left. Let’s hurry. We need to find a safe haven,” the dwarf hurried his comrades.
The torch in Redbird’s hand cast flickering shadows on the stone walls, exposing ugly fungal growths and ominous cracks.
“Damn these dungeons,” the dwarf grumbled, spitting on the floor. “Why are they crammed into every game?!”
“You are a dwarf, make yourself at home,” Darriel parried.
“I’m a dwarf, not a mole or a slug! If you had ever been to Flokia, you would know that it is quite cozy in dwarf dungeons. And here… what can be good in such a hole?”
“Quiet,” whispered the archer, listening. “Do you hear?”
Maxim listened. Dripping water, rustling sounds, the distant squeak of rats… and something else. A faint, almost inaudible grinding sound, as if someone was dragging something heavy across the stone.
““Dark Paladin”? ” whispered Artem, gripping his mace tighter.
Shadows danced on the walls of the tunnel, tracing bizarre figures.
Artem raised the torch and threw it forward, sensing the enemy. The light snatched a tall figure, clad in armor as black as pitch, from the darkness. Death and hatred emanated from him. Two red lights flickered on the helmet, exactly like the eyes of a demon. In his hands he was clutching a huge two-handed sword, from which a faint ominous light emanated. On the sides of the Paladin, like faithful servants, walked two undead – skeletons, clad in decaying armor, with empty eye sockets, greedily looking at the living. Their bony jaws clacked in anticipation of prey.
“Damn it!” Artem roared, raising his shield higher. Dasha fired an arrow. It pierced the eye socket of one of the skeletons, and it collapsed, crumbling into dust. But the other two continued to advance.
Maxim understood that they were in trouble. But he couldn’t help his comrades in any way. Unarmed and without armor, he could only stand on the edge of the torchlit platform, silently watching the battle.
The Paladin didn’t make a sound. He just raised his sword, and a bone-chilling screech of metal against the ceiling of the dungeon resounded. Sparks flew down. This titanic sword with a very wide blade was the size of a dwarf and weighed, must have been the same.
“Damn…” Artem whispered, clenching his mace. “We’re retreating!”
Dasha fired an arrow, but it bounced off the Paladin’s armor as if from a stone wall. The second undead rushed to the attack, clacking bones and waving bony claws at the tips of his fingers.
The fight broke out instantly. Artem took the blow of the undead, blocking it with his shield, and hitting with his mace. Dasha found a gap in the Paladin’s defense by plunging an arrow into his eye socket, without, however, any noticeable damage to him.
Maxim stood as if paralyzed. Fear paralyzed his movements. He tried to remember at least something from his new abilities and real skills, but there was only emptiness in his head.
At that moment, he heard a strange sound – a muffled scraping of stone.
“Maxim! Watch out!” Dasha shouted.
Without noticing it himself, he leaned his back on a lever on the wall.
Raising his head, he saw the ceiling above him beginning to collapse. Huge stone blocks were falling down, ready to crush him to pieces.
Time seemed to slow down. He saw the stones approaching him, saw the horror in the eyes of Dasha and Artem. He knew this was the end.
But suddenly, someone’s strong hand grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him aside. Maxim fell to the ground, choking from dust and fear. A stone rain collapsed over him, turning the place where he had just stood into a pile of debris.
Maxim looked at the collapsed ceiling, realizing how close he was to death.
“Trap,” Redbird grumbled, examining the debris. “Ancient, well camouflaged. Only a dwarf with good eyesight could have noticed it.”
He pointed to a small mechanism hidden behind one of the plates. “Press this plate – and everything will collapse. You’re lucky. Be more careful next time.”
Both undead, not endowed with good reaction, remained buried under the rubble.
Max looked at the two-handed sword sticking out of the pile of stones, still pulsating with green light. Wanting to finally get his first weapon, he approached and grabbed the handle.
He pulled up…
“Looks like you won’t be King Arthur.” the dwarf snorted, looking at his pointless attempt to pull out the sword.
“Don’t worry,” Daria explained. “These swords weigh so much that no one can use them. Even giants.”
Suddenly, the handle of the sword twitched and went up.
The pile of stones under Max’s feet stirred and came into motion.
The Dark Paladin, with a barely filled red life bar, slowly rose from under the rubble, his hand still clutching the sword closer to the guard. Maxim, almost hanging on the handle, stepped back with a cry.
The dwarf and the dark elf showered the paladin with a hail of blows from arrows and spells.
Finally, messages poured in from the system signaling that the battle was over:
You have destroyed Dark Zombie Level 15.Dark Zombie Level 15.
Reward: Experience +5
You have destroyed Dark Zombie Level 13.Dark Zombie Level 13.
Reward: Experience +4
You have destroyed Dark Paladin Level 18.Dark Paladin Level 18.
Reward: Experience +16
Experience to the next level: 1165 (+25) \1200
From the first zombie crumbling to dust, old leather boots remained lying on the ground, which Max appropriated with general silent agreement, having previously walked barefoot through the dungeons.
The deeper the dungeons went underground, the worse Max’s companions felt. The dwarf was covered in sweat and drank one healing potion after another.
“It’s even worse underground than above…” he groaned.
“I don’t feel anything.” Max confessed. “What kind of damage is killing you?”
“Maybe he is still cursed? Monsters do not receive damage from the cursed land.” The elf’s voice seemed to joke, but the dull click of the cocked crossbow string in the stone arched vaults of the tunnel sounded loud and eloquent enough to make it clear that she still did not fully trust Max.
“Come on, you still go first, Arthur.” she picked up the dwarf’s joke. “Moreover, you see traps so well in the dark.”
Letting Max go ahead, she herself went behind everyone. So that the dwarf with the torch was between them.
“The mobs don’t feel you. And you don’t receive damage from the cursed land, and we will feel more comfortable this way,” she explained.
However, it was not quiet in the tunnels.
At the edge of the torchlit area of the floor, where the light barely broke through the darkness, something was constantly moving. Shadows writhed, and from time to time there was a scraping of claws on the stone slabs, creating an ominous symphony that made the blood run cold in the veins. The flashes of red eyes in the darkness, sparkling like embers, looked especially creepy, as if dormant predators were waiting for the right moment to attack.
Max and his comrades felt fear penetrate their hearts, and every sound seemed like a harbinger of something terrible. It was like a nightmare, but with the only difference that there was no way to wake up here. Unlike the dream world, where it was possible to avoid encountering nightmares at any moment by waking up, here they had to fight.
Each moment of waiting became more and more unbearable. Max felt his palms sweating and adrenaline surging through his blood. He knew that something terrible could jump out of the darkness at any moment, and the only way to survive was to fight these monsters. He gathered all his determination to move on and, looking at his comrades, thanked the gods that he was not alone here. At that moment, he felt a connection with these people, whom he had recently considered strangers.
“Oh my…” Redbird stood up, frozen in horror.
Hundreds of red eyes were already looking at them from the darkness.
“It’s just rats,” said Darriel, trying to hide her own fear.
“There are probably thousands of them under the hill here,” the dwarf gasped, realizing the scale of the danger.
“As long as the torch is burning, they won’t attack. Move forward, redbeard.” the girl pushed the dwarf in the back. “Animals are afraid of fire, even cursed ones,” she said like a professional monster hunter. “But don’t stop, go forward, the torch will burn out and we are corpses. We must find a way out to the top at any cost. And quickly… Max, keep up!”
They wandered through the labyrinth without finding a way out, the torch was burning out, the elixirs were running out.
The corridor unexpectedly widened, turning into a small cave. A rift in the wall of the tunnel revealed a side room. Artem, who was walking ahead with the torch, froze on the spot, gasping in surprise.
Dasha, ready for another manifestation of the dwarf’s grumbling, looked over his shoulder, but instead saw something that made her open her mouth slightly.
Maxim squeezed forward to see what had struck them so much.
“Well, well,” Artem muttered, “Looks like someone overdid it with the night lighting.”
Before them stretched a room lit by an unearthly, pulsating light. It was not the light of fire, but of something living, organic. Light emanating from hundreds, thousands of creatures covering the walls, floor and ceiling.
The room was filled with glowing slugs. They were of different sizes from small, the size of a fist, to large, like dogs. They slowly crawled along the walls and floor, leaving a luminous trail behind them, as if drawing patterns in the darkness.
Maxim felt a mixture of admiration and anxiety. The room was incredibly beautiful, but it exuded some kind of danger.
“What is it…?” Dasha whispered, amazed by what she saw.
“Slugs?” Max asked, a little uncertain.
“Slugs,” Artem confirmed, with obvious disgust in his voice. “Glowing. And, according to rumors, very unfriendly.”
In the midst of all this shining, slimy splendor, in the center of the room stood… a chest. Old, lopsided, as if it were made from the remnants of other chests.
It was covered in cobwebs and covered with a layer of dust. It was clear that no one had touched it for a long time. A chest that was just screaming: “I’m a trap! Don’t open me!”
The experienced dwarf looked at the chest, then at the slugs, then back at the chest. “You know,” he said, “I’m starting to think that this is exactly the case when the best thing to do is just turn around and leave. Preferably quickly. A chest… In such a place… It’s too suspicious.”
Dasha shook her head. Her face expressed complete agreement. “Well, I’m definitely not going there. No way.”
“Why?” Max asked.
Dasha looked at him with horror in her eyes. “Don’t you know about the glowing slugs? They say they dissolve everything they touch! Weapons, armor, even… clothes!” She shuddered. “Can you imagine going back to the city naked? That’s probably even worse than being eaten by zombie rats!”
Artem nodded. “I’ve heard of that. Old miners told stories. If you get into their slime, you can say goodbye to your armor.”
“And not only with armor,” Dasha added, her voice trembling. “I’ve heard stories about people who accidentally touched their slime and lost fingers, arms, even whole legs!”
Maxim looked at the slugs. They looked harmless, but, judging by the words of Dasha and Artem, they were very dangerous.
“But there might be something valuable in the chest,” Maxim said, still not having even a weapon. “A hint or something that will help us get out of here.”
“Or maybe there’s just an evil mimic,” Artem remarked. “Have you thought about that? Is it worth it?” Artem continued, looking skeptically at the chest. “Risking your life for some junk?”
The room was humid and warm. The air was filled with a faint smell of rot and some kind of chemical sweetness. Muffled gurgling and rustling sounds were heard.
“I want to see.” Max said.
Dasha squeezed his hand. “Please, Maxim, don’t go there. It’s too dangerous. We’ll find another way out.”
“But if I don’t try, we’ll never know what’s inside.” Maxim said, smiling at her. “What if this is our only chance?”
“But why you?” Dasha asked. “Let Artem go. He at least has armor.”
Artem shook his head. “No, thank you. I’m not going to risk my armor for some chest.”
Maxim looked at his novice rags. “I have nothing anyway,” he said. “If I touch the slime, I won’t lose anything.”
Dasha grabbed his hand even tighter. “Don’t say that! Your life is more precious than any chest!”
“Listen, why really take such a risk?” Artem looked at Maxim with concern. “We have no guarantee that there is anything there at all. And then, there are things worse than death, you know.”
“Yes,” Daria chimed in. “For example, losing your favorite boots because of some slugs.”
Maxim looked at his boots. Rather, at what was left of them. He was wearing a novice’s rags, which would most likely dissolve even from looking at the slugs. He wasn’t wearing armor, he didn’t have weapons either. It seemed the risk was minimal.
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