The War (Play to Live: Book #6) Page 9

  I scratched my head pensively. Performing miracles had been a problem lately. And I had but a few trump cards left. But as long as we held out for the next three hours, I was sure it would get easier after that.

  I reached into my bottomless inventory and took out a huge batch of magic parchments. It was the bribe I had accepted from the dwarf elders for supporting the right nominee for Aulë’s Top Priest.

  I tore out five pages for myself and handed the rest to Dan. "Take this! Cargo portal scroll. Minimum caster stats: level 140, 3,700 mana, ingredient – a 40-karat ruby. Has to be opened as close to the enemy as possible, facing the enemy army. Ever used frag mines?"

  "I have," Dan replied thoughtfully.

  He hurriedly flipped through the pages, paying close attention to the exit point coordinates. He noticed some problems right off the bat. "They’re less than 300 feet apart. Casting underwater and in volcanic craters is impossible. Outer space is not on our list yet, and we can’t confirm its existence. So where do these portals lead? How can they stop the Lights?"

  "I never said they could stop anyone. But they can certainly delay the Lights and make it rough for them. The coordinates were found in a huge cavern. We’re talking several million cubic feet. The hard-working dwarves made a few mountain rivers flow in there by portals. A portal on the bottom of the cavern helps remove softer layers of rock, kill fires in the coal beds, and create backup as well as industrial wells. The scrolls are numbered strategically. They can’t fall into the wrong hands. So be careful with them and don’t forget to report the use of each one!"

  "Boy, will those shorties be surprised when we dry up their cave!" Dan rubbed his hands together, then remembered something. "Wait! Won’t the water crush our wizard? To carry over that much water, one would need insane amounts of mana. A few tons wouldn’t have been a big deal. But this…A portal’s fifteen foot wide. I can’t imagine how many atmospheres of pressure we’re talking here! It’s gotta be hundreds of thousands of gallons!"

  I nodded. "Yeah, the wizard’s getting torn apart either way. The portal will snap shut, for sure. But have you ever tried to break a crowbar with your ass? At this pressure, the water will hard as steel. The portal will close, but not right away. It will take time…based on previous experience, I’d say the portal will need fifteen seconds to close completely. In the last few seconds, the water jet will grow so strong that it’ll be able to punch a hundred-foot-long hole in a mountain!"

  Dan gave me a hopeful smile. "Sounds like fun! Bending the canyon toward the invaders until they’re forced to fire point-blank or get washed away. Or maybe we can even drown them here like kittens."

  "Just be careful," I said, nodding at the wall of enemy magic. "Don’t bust up Tianlong’s skeleton. The old boy might get angry…"

  Dan looked at me wide-eyed. "Skeleton?! You sure have been living in a cave! During the last two days, he had absorbed so much magic that he began to regenerate right before our eyes! Decomposition in reverse is a horrifying sight. The more sensitive folks nearly threw up. By the time we retreated, the dragon’s skeleton was already fully wrapped in muscle tissue and was rapidly restoring nerve fibers. Its limbs twitched, its muscles contracted, and it even had a faint pulse. Although I’m not sure it survived the Lights’ latest attack…"

  "Sure did," one of the staff officers said stiffly, pointing.

  The tension in his voice made everyone look.

  "Holy shit…" they whispered in unison.

  "So he rose from the dead," I noted, scratching my left forearm. I felt that this was where Tianlong had placed his astral mark on me.

  What did the Fallen One say? To find the departed Titans means to learn the Rider or even Tamer ability? Wow…

  The bloodied dragon carcass was rising out of the canyon, blowing away the magic clouds and covering the ground with its fearsome shadow through which no light could pass.

  Tianlong didn’t look well. Drops of blood flew off him. The dragon’s cries of rage sounded more like cries of pain. His mighty tail dangled flaccidly like a loose anchor.

  The dragon hadn’t yet had time to grow plates of invincible armor. He wasn’t even strong enough to grow skin yet. When I looked at him, he resembled a miraculously escaped victim of a sadistic maniac.

  The enemy reacted surprisingly fast, driven by either fear or wisdom. A wall of steel weapons hit the vulnerable body. Thousands of casters looked at the dragon through their cross hairs. Fire, dust, plasma, acid, ice, stone, poison…They used everything, turning the newborn creature into fresh-killed meat.

  Tianlong roared in distress. He began to beat his wings even harder in an attempt to put some distance between himself and the vicious sentient micro-creatures. To win time and avenge his pain, he lowered his spiked head and spewed out a jet of blue flame into the very midst of the Lightsiders.

  The three-hundred-foot-long stream of flame burned a huge hole in the enemy ranks, searing imprints of bodies into stones. The whistling sound it made had such a high frequency that our eardrums nearly popped. Many of the enemies’ heads exploded. Survivors suffered an acoustic shock.

  With his HP bar only half-full, the dragon took wing and headed into the depths of the Valley. A wise move. Had he stayed like this, without armor and facing hundreds of thousands of enemies, he wouldn’t have lasted one minute.

  Such a sight stirred up our warriors. Dan looked through the scrolls again. "Forty total. Useful, but not enough. Fifteen-twenty minutes, and we’re done for."

  I nodded. "Buy us some time! I’m off to Inferno for help."

  Dan made a wry face. "The bastards don’t fear death. Had this happened in the real world, they would’ve gotten sick of this bloodbath. They’d need time to get new supplies, to rest and heal, to hire new soldiers and to boost their morale. But here…We defeated them twice while on the walls. But there are no corpses, no plagues, and the enemy numbers haven’t dropped."

  The exhausted officer fingered a fresh scar on his brow which wouldn’t go away for some reason.

  I put a hand on his shoulder. "I get it, Dan…Our diversionists are working their asses off. We’ve sent three dome-breaking scrolls to our allies. We’re spreading dirt on the Sun God as fast as we can. We’re doing everything in our power to make this war unprofitable for the Lights, in terms of both finances and reputation. Our last attack really showed them. Soon, every enemy soldier will have heard about it. Just hang in there!"

  "Yessir!" The officer saluted me, then got back on his horse. "I’ll get back to my soldiers. The Lightsiders regrouped and are advancing again. Stubborn bastards! It’s like a bulldozer’s pushing them from behind!"

  "Well why don’t you get a thousand warriors, make a sortie, go to the enemy’s rear and check it out? Otherwise why did those nine wizards fill their free slots with the forefield’s portal coordinates?"

  Dan curled his lip. "And how are we supposed to recover our graves then? Fine, we’ll figure it out. Come on, Max, hurry!"

  He spurred his horse mercilessly, taking a couple of its HP and making it gallop away at full speed.

  I looked around to see how many staff officers I had. The ear-choppers slowly came back from the dead, leaving the Great Nothingness and returning to service. The Super Nova wizard on duty, completely exhausted, could no longer transfer the she-elves one at a time. Turning them down was dangerous. The girls were tough and wouldn’t hesistate to castrate whoever displeased them with a single painful slice.

  Snowie, covered with kisses, was already behind me as usual, in charge of my five bodyguards in white armor. That was their new fashion trend; armor the color of the senior officer’s hide.

  I focused on my internal interface and navigated to the private message tab which was going nuts trying to get my attention. Doc was having problems back in the real world. What a bad time!

  I opened the archive and flipped through drafts of different operations that our analysts had thrown together. There was no time to improvise. We had rehearsed our p
lan of action many times for when they would come for Doc. So I activated Plan-072, reluctantly converted half a million gold into rubles, then transferred the sum to an expensive yet very competent lawyer.

  The money worked like oil on the legal, social, and bureaucratic mechanisms. This increased Doc’s chances of survival. Hold on, Alec! That’s all I can do for you right now. We have a war on our hands.

  I mentally summoned the Portal to Inferno icon. Doing that made me smile; this move wasn’t programmed in, and the interface couldn’t handle it. According to the messed up logic of the developers, I was supposed to pull up my list of personal abilities first and then select whatever spell I needed.

  This alone wasn’t a big deal, but whoever pioneered the overcoming of game limitations would be at a huge advantage when it came to character development. I was willing to bet that such masters of willpower would become the elite in the new world.

  I activated the portal. Gusts of scorching sand flurrying through the arch made me cringe. My ear-choppers went in first, then gave me the go-ahead.

  The Portal Trap pentagram that Asmodeus had set up worked wonderfully. We were transported right to the Small Citadel, his current residence.

  I shook my head. I hoped the demon knew what he was doing. It’s risky to constantly keep a door in your home open. Should a raid of a few thousand burst in, it would be a challenge to eliminate them.

  Asmodeus appeared before us in the form of a stately warrior just over six feet tall. "Is it time?" he asked greedily, leaning forward.

  "Not yet. Plan B."

  The demon concealed his disappointment, but I could still feel his true emotions. He was eager to jump into action. It was frightening to see a cool-headed, thousand-year-old creature so passionate about something. It almost made me decide against letting Asmodeus out of the secure Inferno.

  "As I you say," Asmodeus replied, poker faced. "Two thousand of my warriors have gained over half a million levels total. I think we could put this power to use."

  I sighed. Of course we could. But I was in no hurry to ask for his help. I wasn’t eager to become indebted to beings lesser than someone from Inferno, let alone a Top Demon.

  "Plan B," I repeated with emphasis. "How many Bundles of Nerves have your rangers spotted?"

  "Seventeen," Asmodeus made a wry face. "I hate the damn creatures!"

  "And how’s your…" I paused, searching for the right word, "protégé?"

  "Oh!" the demon livened up. "An amusing fellow. Crafty as a hundred . demons from the Seventh Circle. He has transformed his mind and now loves pain, can you imagine? Instead of making the observers feel like their spines are being torn out, he now radiates love and pleasure. Even the more experienced Soul Catchers now voluntarily climb into his jaws! You’ll spot him easily; he’s thirty feet in diameter, a mastodon of the basalt plains."

  I frowned. Asmodeus had a morbid enthusiasm. He might even end up working with Tavor, Fallen One forbid…

  "If you want, " he continued, "stay for the daytime siesta. That’s when the beaters lure him to the Citadel walls so that they can convulse with pleasure."

  I needed to do something about this. I decided to bring this up with the Fallen One once the Lights were out of the way. He needed to figure out how to make everyone secure against the enemy. And should things get out of hand, I would personally fling a piece of Tavor’s mind into the astral expanse. What feels like hunger here becomes a healthy appetite over there. Bon appetit!

  I heard the familiar clap of a micro-portal behind my back. I turned around, expecting to see the White Winnie. But it was a gray-haired, fearsome-looking demon, adorned with numerous obscure artifacts like a Christmas tree.

  "The Portal Master," Asmodeus introduced him with a hint of respect. "He will join a few arches and will start deploying Bundles. Bear with us; takeovers of spell control can sometimes be painful."

  "I will need a drop of blood from the maker of the magic structure," the Portal Master lied.

  I was grateful for my heightened senses. "You’ll have to settle for the bucket of holy water I’m about to pour on your head," I replied politely.

  The Master shrugged indifferently. It was worth a try.

  After he sniffed and even licked the arch, he brought his slimy nose closer to me. When he smelled the pink adamant blade, he started back in fear, cussed under his breath, then waved his hand sharply.

  Whack! Something crunched inside my head as if a virtuoso dentist yanked out a tooth without even bothering to sedate me first.

  What the fuck?! Feeling a saltish aftertaste, I spat. I wasn’t surprised to see blood on the stone beneath my feet. The Master’s interest was piqued. He snapped his fingers, incinerating the bloody stain on the floor.

  I wondered if gods felt the same way every time we cast carnivorous looks at their throbbing veins. Forgive me, Fallen One! I am ashamed of myself!

  The Portal Master reported: "Takeover is complete. I can hold the spell for seven hundred beats. It’s important to keep in mind that the original ligature of magic formulas was sloppy and irrational. The small corrections I’ve applied helped decrease expenditure by forty percent and gave an extra function."

  "All right, shut up!" Asmodeus cut him off, not willing to listen to his bragging. The Top Demon then turned to me and said proudly: "He’s a real talent. I pulled him out of the underworld. Paid a dozen first-class souls!"

  I grew tense, realizing that before me was yet another true creature from Hell. I took a deep breath to calm down and explained the situation: "My troops are slowly retreating. At this rate, the Lights will reach the portal arch in four minutes. I suggest we wait for the first scouts, or better yet, for some fast-moving clan which will burst in here right through the open portal."

  Asmodeus grinned and rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He clearly liked the idea.

  "In any case," I continued, "start deploying Bundles of Nerves in eight minutes. Let them enjoy our hospitality!"

  "You got it, partner! I won’t let you down! Let me remind you that you can use the Summoning Ring at any moment. The power that the artifact had accumulated along with your invitation will help me break through the barrier between the worlds."

  I nodded, waved goodbye, then followed my ear-choppers into the new portal. We had to hurry while we still had control over the territory where the arch was.

  The desert of the Frontier met us with a hundred percent humidity and bloody dust suspended in the air. The “hydraulic angle grinder” turned out to be both showy and effective.

  "Thirty-seven, twenty to your right. Open!"

  "Done!"

  The portal opened. A 300-foot jet of water shot out of it with a roar.

  "They can’t hold it," Aulë’s deep voice commented behind my back.

  I turned around. The gods from our pantheon stood nearby. Feeling my eyes on him, the Fallen One nodded hello and kept the conversation going: "Yep…"

  Aulë’s face lit up with hope. "Let me help!" He raised his hand belligerently. Feeling that it was empty, he looked at it in perplexity, then slapped himself on the forehead and whispered something quietly. The divine hammer returned to its master.

  I could only imagine how much this must have upset the dwarves. They had been fastening that artifact to the temple wall with their tongues hanging out.

  The Fallen One shook his head. "You can’t, Aulë. This isn’t our battle, and you can’t interfere directly. Besides, you’re not a god of war, but a crafter and a lord of stone. Use your head for thinking, not for ramming it into walls! Do as Yavanna does. Strategy of indirect actions. Damn, sorry for bringing this up…"

  "Yavanna," Aulë whispered sadly, drawing into himself. "You’re right! I’m the master of the stone, and it obeys me. There’s no glory in crushing enemy troops just to get your brain splattered all over the astral world when the Great Equilibrium recoil kicks in!"

  "He finally gets it," the Fallen One grumbled.

  But Aulë wasn’t lis
tening. The eyes of the Great Blacksmith sparkled with zeal. "I won’t lay a finger on them. But I will build a fortress strong enough to stop a hundred-thousand-strong army of Lights!"

  "Aulë!" said the Fallen One in alarm.

  But it was too late.

  The astral world groaned as the god wrung it out like a rag with his willpower. An incredibly powerful mana current flowed through the god, transformed by his power. It reshaped the local structure of the world.

  The stone moved around, changing its molecular structure and its shape. A 150-foot-tall wall of smooth basalt rose from the canyon floor. Towers and negative angles formed. A spike-filled trench took shape, then the breastworks, the parapets, and the wide fence roofs to protect from missile weapons. It was a strong, monumental, and practictally eternal creation.

  "By the name of Yavanna!" Aulë smiled happily, bloody foam forming on his lips, and fell unconscious. He had a seizure. A bloody sweat stood out on his bronzed skin.

  "What the hell?!" cried Fall in alarm, rushing to his fallen brother-in-arms.

  "Thanks," I whispered, knowing the price of the god’s gift. I then passed an order via staff chat: "Assume new positions! The fortress’s name is Yavanna! Praise the gods, they need it! The gods of our pantheon are working their fingers to the bone trying to help us win this battle. Do not hold back your words of gratitude! Do not forget what kind of world we live in!"

  I kicked a couple of officers who had fallen into a religious stupor and ran over to Aulë. "How is he?"

  "Same as Yavanna. Only worse ’cause he’s thickheaded and has this wounded male vanity. It will take him years to regenerate."

  The Fallen One smashed his fist into the ground in rage, leaving an imprint in the stones.

  I held Aulë by the shoulders as his seizure slowly subsided. "We should take him to the Crypt. He’ll stay in bed, then be back on his feet in a few days with Chronos’ help."

  “Hmm…" Fall fingered his chin pensively. "That could work. Chronos won’t notice him until he comes to. Last thing we need is a revived titan! In order to keep Aulë from waking up early or from letting the shadows of his dreams into the world, I will put him into an artificial coma. He may think himself extremely smart, but I still have the keys to his offline shields."