Chapter 8

***Jay-Gul***

"It's nice here in general. I like it, I'll come again sometime."

The most powerful creature in the world looked straight into Jay-Gul's soul and smiled warmly. A humble smile, as if a shy friend had come to visit.

The Creator's visit was coming to an end. Jay-Gul was glad he liked it here. He himself was greatly relieved. For the last couple of hours he had been aching for a piss. It was, you might say, a matter of life and death. But there was no way he could lose face. Also a matter of life and death.

The experience of meeting the Creator was unspeakable. He was in the same form that Jay-Gul remembered from the old world. A human young man, almost a teenager, white-haired and smiling. He was a head shorter than the orc and twice his shoulders. Why he should look so frail, Jay-Gul didn't know and didn't want to know. The gods had their own quirks.

It is unlikely that the Creator was really trying to deceive anyone with this appearance. His existence had always been felt by every orc, and his personal presence was physically palpable from a mile away, or more. A presence that made Jay-Gul seem like a blade of grass on the side of a volcano. Majestic and breathtaking.

Jay-Gul was inspired and happy that he hadn't really been summoned for a scolding. So inspired and happy, in fact, that he drank a barrel of that damned beer while interrogating the wretched swordsman. The Warboss, the supreme leader, even looked at him with envy and respect.

And when the business with the prisoners was over, and the Creator decided to speak to Jay-Gul, the beer reminded him of itself. In an ultimatum. The orc now knew exactly what the expression 'between the hammer and the anvil' meant.

The Creator asked him about the mission in a thoughtful, detail-oriented manner. J-Gul replied calmly and measuredly. Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the unobtrusively crunching fist of the High Chief, who realized what the matter was. Two granite stones crumbled in his fist like bread crust.

The conversation with the Creator was not that long, though it seemed like an eternity. In general, he asked what Jay-Gul thought of the enemy (they are fluid), how the release of the 'civilians' went (how the water flowed), and what they talked about with that human child (babbling like a stream, I can't remember). Smiled something of his own when he found out that she had invited Jay-Gul to visit.

"It will be another great day, Prophet." the Warboss replied.

"Warboss, I keep wondering if this Akuro can be useful. The reason for keeping him alive for now. By local standards, he is a strong warrior."

"He has a strong spirit, but a weak body. I don't know what good he could do."

"What do you think, Jay-Gul?"

"My opinion is nothing before your will."

"And still?"

Jay-Gul had an idea about it, though he hesitated to voice it. No one wanted to risk spoiling the Creator's mood with a delusional idea. But if asked, he had to answer.

"He's not much of a warrior compared to any of the boys. But he's more skilled than the older kids. He'd be a good match for them. He's agile and wants to live."

"That's a good idea. Warboss, you have no objection?"

"I dare not think about it." The High Chief bowed guiltily. "If it is your will, the children will train with him."

"I'm relying on you, but no deaths. There's no point in that type of study. I have a business to attend to, so I'll be going. Draga, take the others to Marius and then wait for me at the temple."

"It will be done, Prophet." She bowed.

"Warboss, escort me to the city gates. There's something we need to discuss..."

The tent guards watched with suspicion and then with interest as Jay-Gul literally crawled out of the tent on all fours. He did manage to get to the pit.

He, however, was driven away by the sight of the small crumbs, formerly two grungy pebbles, which lay in two piles near the empty barrel.

***Marius***

"What delightful irony. I should have expected nothing less from the High Lord."

Marius, crossing his arms over his chest, studied the sniffly pale young man who was gritting his teeth frantically.

Draga, hovering over the unfortunate on the other side, in the same pose, replied.

"This is a direct order from the Prophet. Where do you see the irony, Marius?"

"Haven't you been paying attention? I'm a monster from the other side of death, must find talent in a living enchanter of the light powers. Do you understand? Apparently not. What an unfortunate lack of sense of humor. Not surprising, knowing you."

Marius prepared for the arrival of the Prophet's personal servant with all possible diligence. He had time to go through thousands of ideas in his head, which required living bodies and souls. Many theories need to be confirmed or disproved, many spells need to be tested. Marius selected the most important ones, and still, there were more of them than there were victims.

One of the crypts, next to Marius's private mausoleum, was urgently converted into a laboratory. Not that the vampires, evicted from there to shrines far away, were happy about this change of pace. But they weren't stupid enough to contradict their lord. Now instead of cozy sarcophagi, the crypt was occupied by marble and granite slabs. These made excellent memorial gravestones, but now they served as tables. There were lecterns for journals besides the tables, and gothic shelves of tools, reagents, and scrolls by the walls. There were no books - they were useless to Marius. He remembered them all by heart anyway.

The subjects, immersed in deep hypnosis, were already lying on the tables, naked. A plan of experiments had already been prescribed for each of them, and Marius was anxious to begin.

He noted with some displeasure the fact that Drega had brought no one with her but her prisoners. He had seriously considered letting the convoy in on the experiments as well. Of course, such a move would cause resentment, but after the fact, it was not so important. At least the Prophet wouldn't nag him about such a little thing.

"Is it just me, or are you provoking me into a confrontation?" Draga arched an eyebrow.

"Of course not," the lich brushed aside. Though the idea is interesting, I'd love to get my hands on your corpse someday."

"You can always try, lich." Draga said in an icy tone, putting her palm on the hilt of her sword.

"You take everything too personally." Marius sneered. "There's nothing more foolish than to interfere with the Prophet's plans, and your death is certainly not one of them yet."

Draga relaxed a bit.

"In general, I wonder how someone like you can even respect the opinions of the alive."

"I respect first and foremost the wishes of the High Lord. He cannot be called 'alive' in the full meaning of the word. The presence of flesh and blood is nothing more than a whim to him."

"So you treat life like any other undead? What keeps you from spreading death everywhere?" Draga stared at the blue lights in the lich's eyes very seriously. "Just orders, or something else?

"Hmm. Not only that." Marius stroked his chin. "I won't deny that living beings are somewhat repulsive to me. Fragile, unreliable flesh, so dependent on so many factors. A mind dependent on fleeting emotions and fickle morals. The inability to fully control even the functions of one's own body. This is terrible. Yet everything has a price. The more experience, excitement, and knowledge gained during life, the more perfect, beautiful, and fulfilling death will be. Not all living beings are capable of evolving, it's true." Leach raised his index finger admonishingly. "But everyone will die. No one lives forever."

"Have you ever heard of elves?"

"The number of long-livers I know does not exceed the statistical margin of error, and for them, the question is still open. However, back to our immediate affairs. You." Marius beckoned a finger at the cornered boy. "Come here."

The sorcerer huddled even deeper in the corner. Marius tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Listen to me carefully, you little nothing. The Lord told me to find and develop some talent in you, and I will. So you will not die, not yet. But to think that it takes away my leverage over you is a great delusion. Come here."

The sorcerer prayed in a hoarse whisper but ignored the lich.

"Yeah. I was hoping we'd get to chess soon." Marius grimaced. "But it looks like we'll have to start with the basics of training."

[Agony]

A thin, tearing cry ripped through the silence of the crypt. Draga grimaced.

"Well, have fun with your new pet. I'll be off."

"Come by sometime."

"I'll think about it."

Leach led her a glance. He really hoped she would come by again sometime. An opponent who disagreed with him on anything was a rarity, and Marius appreciated it.

[cancel]

The spasms released the sorcerer's body and he went limp. Marius waited until the boy was breathing normally.

"So, let's back to the beginning. Come to me, Lias."

"I... Don't..." sobbed the pitiful guy.

"Don't what?" the lich inquired. "You don't want to feel pain? Then don't test my patience. These phenomena are interrelated."

Lias hesitantly stood up, and, trembling heavily, approached Marius. He looked at the boy, half-dead with terror, and wondered.

Level 7.

What did the Prophet mean when he instructed him to train this wretch? Is such a thing even possible? His doubts were interrupted by a vivid hunch.

Lords never did anything with no reason. There was always a point to everything, even if it was not always obvious. Every decision, every action had the consequences the Lords expected.

Could anything have changed now? Certainly not, just that his point of view is inexcusably short-sighted. If the Prophet gave him a task, he must have foreseen the possibility of accomplishing it. And that task is just part of some grand puzzle of supposedly random and purposeful actions. This means that he, Marius, will finally be able to touch something truly great. To become something more than a gatekeeper. Become part of the destiny the deity is building.

Marius loomed menacingly over the hunched and trembling man.

"Do you realize where you are and why?"

"I... don't know... The faceless lord said... he would let me learn from the great sorcerer..."

"Ha! Who do you think is in front of you?"

Looking into the eyes of his future apprentice, which widened in shock, Marius felt the long-forgotten urge to laugh. The Prophet's sense of humor was certainly as profound as his power.

***Talik***

Talik was preparing to go out into the world. It wasn't for the first hour. The idea looked fascinating and simple at the time of adoption, but when it came down to business, problems began.

For example, the equipment. From what he could find out, the equipment he was used to was not in use. Even the wretched unique and legendary items were beyond awesome here, to say nothing of the divine class. With such equipment, quietly joining and exploring society was out of the question. Finding something more or less suitable in level, even if it was 'rare', was a problem. There was no such garbage; they let it go on the crystals without even reading the description, as soon as it was in the inventory.

When he consulted Illadria, all hell broke loose. The elfess understood the expression 'find something discreet' in her own way. In the blink of an eye, the common rooms became a high-end flea market, with only one mannequin. He'd barely restrained himself from swearing a few times already. The only thing that saved her was that same enthusiastic, puppy-dog look and the captivating figure in the tight dress. He didn't want to see her upset.

Wilhelm added spice to the mix. He brought volunteers to be 'adventurers' right to this impromptu fashion show. Talik stared at the rows of seventy-somethings packed in unique ammunition. Men, elves, and draconians of both sexes were beaming with happiness and eagerness to serve, kneeling and devouring him with their eyes.

"Wilhelm, I asked you to look for volunteers from the common ranks. Why did you bring the 'royal guard' into this?" Talik sighed.

"Absolutely everyone volunteered, Prophet. I chose the most worthy of those who had no special titles." Wilhelm was clearly proud of himself.

Talik took some time to choose the words.

"You are completely missing the point, Wilhelm."

The Nordic strongman's entire body is lowered.

"There is no excuse for my shortcomings. You do not think them trustworthy enough for the honor of accompanying you on your voyages. I... I am sorry. Allow me to correct that mistake. I will find someone more worthy."

Talik closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"We seem to have a misunderstanding." He glanced again at the troops, quite good enough for a good fight, even by Yggdrassil's standards. "Send them back to their posts."

Wilhelm waved his fingers and the warriors quickly left the hall.

"First of all, I'm not going to be escorted by an army." He raised his hand, interrupting the inhaling king. "And we won't discuss it. I'll be supervised by stalkers. If there's any real trouble, Illadria will get me out through the portal."

"Prophet, we cannot risk you!" There was a ring of metal in Wilhelm's voice. "You need a decent guard!"

Talik began to get a little angry.

"Wilhelm, I am much harder to kill than you think."

"It's a new world and we can't know all the dangers it holds!"

"We will NOT be discussing this."

"I believe you know what you're doing. But, I ask you, let me help you with this!"

"I will, and I will even demand it when I need it." Talik was beginning to calm down. "Forgive my bluntness, but I know better than you what's going to happen. What I need from your subordinates, for now, is a willingness to come to me through the portal at any moment."

Talik was bluffing. He had no idea what he would actually encounter. But he didn't want to travel through the new world surrounded by a constant crowd of fanatics. It was uncomfortable and unwise. According to his plan, several of the former NPCs would join a guild of adventurers, in different cities. While doing the work, they would make acquaintances and learn about the world, relaying the information they gathered daily to Dawn City by [message].

And, needless to say, they will be the bait. A favorite tactic of hardcore players - a small fish in full view, a shark in the shadows. Stalkers will keep a close eye on the 'adventurers'. If anything happens to them, they will provide full information. And Talik himself will simply try to attract less attention than his agents.

He wasn't sure how it would actually work out, but the risk seemed acceptable. After all, if he did get nailed, he would at least have time to run away. And if there was an enemy that even a stalker wouldn't notice... Nothing could save him from that, anyway.

"I submit to your will." after a long mental struggle, Wilhelm said. "But please remember the importance of your life. If you..."

"No." Talik cut him off. He wasn't sure if he should interrupt, but he didn't want to have to listen to the same arguments over and over again.

He looked longingly at the closet that Illadria had carefully picked out. Along the walls of the hall, bypassing only the tall windows were rows of outfitted mannequins. Illadria bowed respectfully, waiting beside them, clearly intending to continue this exercise of trying them on. Talik was quite sure that he would not use any of the proposed clothing in his 'going out'.

"Illadria, thanks for the effort, I saw even more than I expected. I'll let you know when I need something. I'll look some more in the treasury but in the meantime put it all back where you found it. Draga, let's go."

After Talik departed, Wilhelm rose from his knees and, clasping his hands behind his back, walked pensively to the window. Illadria looked sadly at the door through which the Prophet had left.

"I never thought I'd see Him angry at any of us." The elf girl said quietly. "It hurts."

"I'm sorry. This is my fault." Wilhelm answered grimly, looking out the window.

"Maybe," Illadria said thoughtfully. "You know, he wasn't interested in our opinions before. I don't think that's the kind of mistake you can be seriously blamed for."

"Right. Something has changed since the death of the old world. Sometimes I begin to think that it is not the world that has changed, but ourselves. I'm losing confidence in what I'm used to, and I don't like it. Do you think it makes sense to talk to Marius about this?"

"I don't know, Wilhelm. It's not that I don't trust him or underestimate his intelligence. I'm sure he understands a lot more than the rest of us. It's just... He's been dead for hundreds of years, and that imposes a strain on his sanity. Actually, I'm surprised you're asking for my advice. That's cute."

"Why not. You're more intelligent than I am, and your opinion might be useful. By the way, I've noticed how you behave in his presence. You've decided to move Drega on the bed, haven't you?"

The elfess smiled sadly.

"That sounded pretty dirty, pick your words."

"Sorry. And still?"

"I'm thinking about it. It looks like Drega screwed up, it wouldn't be good to pass up a chance like that. So far I'm provoking her more, but if this keeps up, I'll make my move. Why did you ask?"

Wilhelm stared thoughtfully out the window.

"Let's just say I'm on your side on this one. The half-elf as the heir is more satisfactory to me than the half-demon."

Illadria laughed a little.

"You're charming. I don't know whether to tell you that no one asked you for your opinion, or that the Prophet has no intention of leaving the post of High Lord."

Wilhelm paused again.

"I know how it sounds. My preferences wouldn't make sense if they went against the will of the Prophet. But now..." He turned around and gave Illadria a hard look. "He couldn't be said to care at all about such trivial matters as the race of the child to come. But you can say with certainty that there is no one to replace Him if He were to abandon us in pursuit of His ideas. Do you understand?"

Illadria approached him and placed her palms on his cheeks, smoothing out the anxious wrinkles. Then she answered with a mischievous smile.

"I see. You said very well what I am afraid to think about. You, too, must understand that what you said is on the verge of heresy. Be careful with that, will you? I'd hate to lose someone who's 'on my side'."

Wilhelm touched her chin.

"It's a deal."

***Talik***

Talik felt like a squeezed lemon after his 'adventurer' briefing.

It wasn't hard to find the right people. Did Wilhelm mention that absolutely everyone volunteered? Excellent. He walked out of the palace and into the square. Life here was booming, almost as it had been on the first day.

It's a good thing he learned to turn off auras when he didn't have to.

Of course, he was still recognized, but now it was a normal human joy, not imbecilic happiness. When he appeared on the streets, all activity did not cease, and it was possible to feel like a living person in a living city, rather than... it was even difficult to find the right 'not'.

By the fountain, the artist was painting a portrait of a lovely old woman. She was sitting on the ledge with her hands folded at her belly, carefully holding a small flower in her right palm. The painter, a skinny, white-haired guy with his hair tied up in a ponytail, was naked at the waist, his arms up to his elbows in strokes of paint.

A tent was placed at the entrance to the restaurant, under which there were tables for visitors who preferred fresh air. There were quite a few of them, mostly young couples. The whimsical melody of a stringed instrument came from within.

Across the square in the open chapel, under the cozy shade of a huge emerald-leafed tree, a tall draconian man in a white robe was speaking softly. His lack of facial expressions was made up for with measured gesticulation. A group of twenty people listened intently, occasionally clarifying things.

A girl was reading a book on the third-floor balcony of a residential building, and a cup of something hot stood beside her. The first floor of the building housed a tea shop and a flower shop. On the corner of the same building was a small coffee shop, the aroma of which seemed to tickle the nostrils of the palace itself.

You could stand there all day and just stare. Talik had to make a conscious effort to take his mind off it. As he headed toward the edge of the square, he shrank inwardly, remembering the reaction to his appearance on the first day. But it was all right. People greeted him, bowed respectfully, and made way for him. Then they went back to their classes.

There were guards in every street that flowed into the square. Strict soldiers in tall helmets, white and blue-patterned armor with shields and spears. More a tribute to traditional design than a necessity - there was no real need for guards here. Talik approached one of them and took a closer look. The man was elongated, looking straight ahead.

"Name yourself." Talik addressed him.

"Kraus Morgeri, Your Holiness."

"Have you heard anything about recruiting volunteers for a dangerous task in the outside world?"

"Yes, Your Holiness. I volunteered, but was refused."

"No, you got the approval, Kraus. Do you know where the Common Chambers are?"

"Yes, Your Holiness!" the guard shone.

"I'll meet you there in an hour. You're going to have to take it up with your commanding officer, refer to me."

The guard bowed and walked quickly away. His colleagues saw the 'lucky' one off with glances full of longing envy. Talik spoke in the same way to several other guards in different streets and headed for the palace.

Easy peasy.

It wasn't so simple after all. The chosen candidates were ready to go into the dragon's mouth now (for the glory of the Dawn, of course), but they did not understand the idea of 'undercover work'. In explaining to them the importance of personal legends, Talik dropped his face into the palm of his hand more than once, but finally achieved the result.

Rummaging through the treasury, he picked up a nice set of divine-grade rings, a unique necklace, and a legendary rope belt. There was nothing else there that looked relatively modest.

Well, it's a good thing I found this. I could have dismantled it for crystals, if I had a buyer. Heh.

Legendary items were noticeably inferior to divine items in terms of stats and number of properties, but like everything in Yggdrasil, they had their own thing. They only had one or two properties, but those properties were stronger than the divine items. The frequent uselessness of the properties (e.g., a 300% shortening of non-cooldown spell recovery time) was compensated for by the ability to change the property to another, random one. Each attempt cost a certain amount of crystals. Some maniacs even managed to capture specific properties on purpose. For example, Zloberman of the allied 'ZOG' guild fished out two rings with a +30% resistance to darkness bonus. Not a bad bonus for next to nothing - at the cost of the stats from just two rings he closed the only hole in the resistances. Katsuba-san caught two slots in his necklace for Destiny Stones. This is despite the fact that one such slot was not much more common than a mammoth.

The belt Talik took with him had only one property. It made the wearer invulnerable for five seconds upon receiving a potentially fatal blow. Not more than once a day, but I didn't find anything better. And it doesn't matter that there are no stats at all. Five seconds is really a lot of time for an experienced PvP-fighter.

The search for suitable outer garments did not last long either. On his way back to the palace from the temple, Talik met a low-level novice in one of the corridors. In a 'rare' robe with a hood.

Why not?

"Do you think, Draga, that's enough for traveling around the noob-zone?"

"Under my protection, you might not even need it." She bowed respectfully.

It was a surprise.

"Draga, I mentioned that I would go without an obvious escort."

"I... You don't need me anymore?"

Drega lowered, her voice treacherously shaking.

That already sounds like blackmail. Maybe let's change the plan.

"Of course you do. I would even say that it is vital. There is an important task that I can only entrust to you."

Draga cheered up.

"What should I do?"

The Common Chambers were already waiting for him. A dozen level 40 warriors dressed in the simplest armor. There was no problem with the armor as there was with the robes. Simple 'rare' armor and weapons were in abundance from Marius. It was a matter of half an hour to 'undress' a dozen trashy skeletons and clean their gear to a more or less decent degree.

Wilhelm and Illadria were also present. Wilhelm was strictly reciting something to the warriors, and the elfess prepared the portals. Talik gave them an impatient look.

"Does everyone remember the instructions? Is everyone ready?"

"Yes, Your Holiness!" A dozen fighters knelt down as if on cue.

The elder vassals simply bowed.

"Go ahead."

One by one, the warriors disappeared into portals leading to the edge of the forests. Each had to make his way to one of the assigned cities.

"Draga, do you remember what we discussed?"

The Shadow Demon, who had only changed her weapon to a simpler one (the real one was still in her inventory), nodded decisively.

"Yes!"

"Go for it. She dove into the portal. Talik followed her example."