Isr Kale's Journal (The Alchemist Book #4): LitRPG Series Read online

  “You alive?” Motar appeared in the passageway. Judging by the flask full of black liquid in his hand, he’d been the one to throw the grenades.

  “Why?” The shocked boy could barely get the question out, his gaze fixed on the bodies twitching across the ground. Suddenly, the screams gargled to a stop. The absorber had apparently gotten into their throats and kept the air from getting out.

  “Those two arrived with you—something struck me about them right away,” Motar replied, glancing down unpleasantly at their suffering enemies. “Everyone else collapsed on the ground to sleep, while this pair followed you like a pair of trained puppies. They kept looking around, too, making sure nobody was watching them... As soon as Forian and my guys left the pavilion, they showed up—it was just a good thing I had the grenades on me. I was barely in time. Actually, it took two for each of them.”

  The bodies suddenly stopped writhing around as the absorber finished its job. A minute had gone by, and the black substance evaporated just as Tailyn climbed into Vargot. He wasn’t about to risk touching the pair himself. Instead, Raptor did the job for him remotely.

  Active Marauder and Hacking attributes detected.

  Analyzing bodies...

  Location maps updated (6).

  Loot received:

  4922 coins.

  43230 gold.

  Complete level III outfit (2).

  Level III amulet (2).

  Zhalo named weapon (2).

  ***

  Access received to logs.

  Access received to personal information.

  Synchronizing logs.

  Commander, should we let Crobar know we found Tailyn?

  Oh, we will. We’ll bring them his head as proof, too. Keep following the tracks and make sure the lixes don’t catch sight of you. I don’t like that shaman. Wait, what’s that? A city? What’s it doing here?

  Tailyn ran off ahead! We have to take the shot!

  Stand down! Sharmol, panic one more time, and I’m kicking you out of the squad. Bayr, what do you think?

  It’s not on the map, so we need to check it out. Let’s put on disguises and get in with everyone else—we can take care of the kid once we’re inside the city. If we come back without information about a strange settlement, the hierarchs won’t forgive us. That’s more important than some kid.

  Absolutely. We’ve been lucky enough to spot it, so we’ll be lucky enough to keep going. Bayr and I will take out the kid; Sharmol, you explore the city. Put on disguises and use numerical names. Go!

  “There were three of them!” Tailyn exclaimed in shock, instantly pulling up his city management menu. Finding the guard, he activated danger mode and set it to keep anyone from leaving the city. The Crobar killer couldn’t get away.

  “What are you doing?! Have you lost your...” Forian flew into the tent only to stop short when he saw the bodies. A realization of what was going on dawned on him instantly, and he muttered angrily. “Those bastards. They’re the last thing we need... Where’s the third?”

  “He’s wearing a disguise. One of the numericals, though he could have traded that in for someone else,” Tailyn quickly explained. “He can’t get away.”

  “Valanil’s with Valia right now—have them get back here,” the treasurer said, after which he crouched down, touched one of the bodies, and barely kept himself from recoiling in horror. They were still alive.

  A minute later, Valanil dashed into the tent. Glancing down at the bodies, she demanded the logs and scowled as she read through them. Valia was right behind her. The girl hopped over to Tailyn, grabbed him by the hand, and felt a wave of indescribable relief wash over her. It was silly, of course, but five days without the physical touch of her betrothed hadn’t been easy.

  “Why are they still alive?” Valanil was still studying the bodies.

  “Because the absorber doesn’t kill you,” Tailyn said, stunning everyone with the news. “The bombs just suck out your essence, leaving your body still alive but reduced to a shell.”

  “Okay, so the third one doesn’t know that these two are dead,” Valanil said. She was instantly calmer, brushing her hair back and muttering something about “why now” before continuing. “Tailyn, are you the one who enabled danger mode?”

  “Yes. I didn’t want anyone getting out of the city. It’s my fault they got in—I told the guard to leave my group alone even though I saw there was something off about the numbers.”

  “You’re going to have to answer for that, only later. Motar, get all the humans into the pavilion. Tell them the city head wants to tell them about a successful raid, so they all have to be there. Tailyn, you’ll hack everyone one at a time until we find the Crobar agent. If he doesn’t show up to the meeting, you’ll scan the whole city with Raptor. Just don’t kill him—we need him alive. Get to it!”

  The herbalist’s all-business attitude infected the rest of the group, and ten minutes later there was an enormous crowd outside the pavilion. Tailyn’s perception didn’t see anyone who shouldn’t have been there, though he wasn’t about to count on that. Most likely, the Crobar assassin had killed a numerical and taken their place—the number of people there matched the city population.

  “Step up one by one, get your buff, and you can leave,” Motar called before being the first to approach Tailyn. Valanil had insisted they check everyone, including her. Their target could have used mimicry to disguise himself with someone else’s identity in addition to changing his name. Placing a hand on Motar’s shoulder, the boy activated hacking and checked the guard’s logs for the previous couple hours. A quick glance left him sighing in relief—that Motar was the real one.

  None of the closest ten numericals were the killer, either. Motar moved them away before they could complain about not getting a buff—with nothing useful to offer, he was using purification on them as if getting them ready for a subsequent upgrade.

  “Next!” Motar yelled, and a named man stepped forward, a character with a completely nondescript face. He was the kind of person you forgot about a moment after seeing them. Racking his memory, Tailyn tried to remember who he was and couldn’t, but that wasn’t a surprise—he hadn’t memorized the face of everyone living in his city. Even his perception didn’t help.

  “Buffs are always nice,” the man said with a warm smile. “They sure do help...”

  Tailyn couldn’t say what had raised his hackles. It could have been how easily the man carried himself in contrast to how nervously the rest had stepped up to their young city head. It could also have been his cat-like stride that was more reminiscent of Motar or Valanil than a simple worker. Or it could have been the pair of eyes that were far too serious for someone with a smile as broad as his on their face. Most likely, it was all of that.

  Something began appearing in the man’s hand just as Tailyn shook himself and did what he was there to do.

  Your Hacking level: 45.

  Probability of successful hack: 77%.

  Attempt 1… Successful!

  The block couldn’t come fast enough.

  But while the man suddenly froze, a painfully familiar red cap, the kind that was used for Alron potions, suddenly rolled forward across the ground.

  “Bomb!” Tailyn yelled, and time stood still, only to begin dragging itself forward again.

  Three seconds. That was how long it took for the potion to detonate after the plug was removed. With the crazed student fancying himself the hand of justice taking out twelve students at the department of magic cards still fresh in his mind, Tailyn knew exactly what would happen to anyone caught in the epicenter of the blast. The number of numericals around made it a foregone conclusion that more than one person would be losing their life that day. And with that in mind, Tailyn ignored the urge to dash off in the opposite direction, instead throwing himself at the killer. He had just one shot at saving the lives of the nearby humans and lixes.

  Burying a shoulder in the blocked body, Tailyn drove it into the ground and flopped on t
op of the hand with the grenade. His entire plan centered around Vargot being able to withstand the force—getting through level seven armor wasn’t easy. More bodies collapsed on top of the boy to push him into the ground. He wanted to yell at them to get away, but that would have taken concentration he didn’t have. The countdown in front of him had him completely occupied. Finally, it hit zero, and a small sun erupted under his chest. The force of the blast was so strong that he felt himself lifted up into the air, though the bodies on top of him kept him in place. A thick stream of fire found an outlet to one side, but that was all Mark Derwin’s dangerous invention could do. A few moments later, it was all over—the bomb had admitted defeat and died away. It was Tailyn—one; the killer from Crobar—zero.

  “You alive?” Tailyn was grabbed by his armor and shaken a few times until he came to.

  “Is that all you know how to say?” he wheezed as he tried to rip himself out of Motar’s powerful grasp. “Stop shaking me! And put me down!”

  The guard looked away, embarrassment coming over him. Still thinking of Tailyn as just another kid, he had a hard time seeing him as the head of an albeit ruined city. The boy bent over the Crobar assassin as soon as he was free. The arm was completely gone, and the fire had even turned inward, burning through the armor and turning the body into roast meat. There were just moments to spare.

  “Get his face shield off!” Tailyn yelled at Ka-Do-Gir, and the latter ripped through the metal with one quick swipe. The boy’s stomach very nearly emptied itself when he saw what the man’s head had been reduced to. Quelling the urge, he pulled two lesser regeneration potions out of his inventory and poured them into the narrow slit that had once been a mouth.

  “Get his armor off and tie him up as soon as he regenerates. And don’t let him hurt himself—he has to live long enough to have a conversation with Bar-Truk.”

  “Not just with him.” Valanil leaned over Tailyn. “The lix doesn’t know what questions to ask. Okay, get him over to the pavilion, and Ka-Do-Gir, bring the shaman in the cage over there, too. Tailyn, you take care of the wounded. Valia, give him a hand. Motar, make sure nobody goes into the pavilion—you’ll answer with your head if they do. And the rest of you, get back to work!”

  The crisp orders cut through the chaos exactly the way they were supposed to. With instructions in hand, the numericals calmed down and head back to their business, leaving behind just the four who’d had the misfortune of finding themselves in the path of the fire. Tailyn decided against spending potions and instead filled in the biggest holes in the virtual statues using mana. While that didn’t heal them completely, it was enough to be sure they wouldn’t be kicking the bucket any time soon. Tailyn and Valia then headed over to the pavilion, saying nothing to each other, only to have their path blocked by Motar.

  “You can’t go in there. It’s not something you should see.”

  “Step aside,” Tailyn said, and the mustachioed guard twitched. He’d never seen the boy like that. In fact, it was almost like he was looking at a highborn, a feeling that only gave him a moment’s pause. If the heads wanted to be there personally for the torture session, that was their will, and it wasn’t for him to argue. Nodding to his warriors, he stepped aside.

  The Crobar killer had already been extracted from his armor and tied down on a table. His body was regenerating quickly, getting rid of the dark streaks and returning its fleshy color. Only his arm grew slowly—it was going to take eight hours for it to be back in its original condition. But Tailyn had to doubt the bastard had that long to live.

  “What took so long?” Valanil grumbled as though she’d been expecting the pair to show up. “Tailyn, get ready to block Mu-Ro-Din. We’re going to unlock the cage and let him out.”

  But that didn’t turn out to be necessary—the shaman was naked. Masters of their craft, the crystal fences hadn’t just jammed the shaman in an isolation cage; they’d stripped him of his armor and weapons, too. Tailyn had spent time in a similar cage once, albeit just for a few minutes, and so he knew exactly what Mu-Ro-Din had been going through for the previous week. There was no resistance—with no food or water to speak off, the body drooped into Ka-Do-Gir’s arms without the faintest hint of a break for freedom.

  “Tailyn, help him out,” Valanil said as soon as the shaman was tied to a second table.

  “Healing won’t help him,” the boy replied. “He needs to be fed and bathed.”

  “We’ll use a potion,” Forian said. “There’s no point wasting time on the dead—we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

  “I only have two left,” Tailyn said, handing a lesser regeneration potion over to the mage. The treasurer said nothing. Instead, he pulled open the shaman’s mouth and poured the invaluable liquid into it. A minute later, the lix woke up. He twitched a couple times to check his bonds before scowling and then plastering something like a smile on his face.

  “The great Tailyn Vlashich and the beautiful Valia Levor! What an honor to finally meet you, even if it is in these most difficult of circumstances. The mad leader of the blacks would give quite a bit to be here in this pavilion, but he isn’t so lucky, unfortunately. And who’s that? A shaman? Are you serious? Who gave that green spawn a staff? All he knows how to do is use it as a shovel!”

  Mu-Ro-Din was having a hard time speaking, but his words didn’t match his situation. Bar-Truk snarled and would have leaped at the red to shut him up if he hadn’t been stopped by Ka-Do-Gir. Mu-Ro-Din continued.

  “Halas betrayed and banished me. The thirst for blood has gone to his head, and I don’t like how crazy he’s gotten. Slaughtering a city or two is fine, of course, but what did the empire ever do to us? No, there’s no room in the Gray Lands for lixes like him. He has to be banished! Head Vlashich, I offer you my strength, my hand, my staff, and my life. I offer you the services of a real shaman instead of that mockery. I offer you myself!”

  Everyone was taken aback—instead of hurling invective at the humans or threatening what he would do to them if he ever got loose, the red was trying to find common ground. He was even trying to join their side.

  “What could you do for us, red?” Valia asked.

  “A lot.” Mu-Ro-Din’s eyes glazed over for a second. “We’re in the very heart of the Gray Lands. I can sense that there are lots of humans here—there’s no mistaking their scent. And that means we’re in some kind of mountain settlement, and Tailyn is the head. I heard from the fences that he was kicked out of the empire. That means everyone else here has also been banished, so you can’t go back. Of course, I’m aware that humans have to pay crystals if they want to live, otherwise the god punishes them. I can help you get the blue stones. For a small percentage, of course.”

  “How do you know about the tax?” Forian asked with a frown.

  “This isn’t the first year I’ve spent living under this sun—there’s a lot I know. Shamans have to pay crystals for the mages they have imprisoned, otherwise they die. And we can’t get mana or tears of Alron from them then. I’m aware of a lot. You can be sure I’ll be useful to you.”

  “And you’re prepared to swear allegiance to Chief Tailyn?” Ka-Do-Gir asked.

  “Swear allegiance?” Mu-Ro-Din responded in surprise. “I’m talking about a partnership! For example, give me a measly thirty percent of the loot, and I’d be more than happy to serve Vlashich and Levor. Give me forty, and I’ll turn this slob into a real shaman. For fifty—”

  “We’re wasting time.” The treasurer cut into the red’s diatribe. “Bar-Truk, get to it—I need everything in his inventory as well as his logs for the past year. Valanil, give him a hand.”

  Mu-Ro-Din tensed up, but he wasn’t the subject of their conversation. Having regained consciousness, the Crobar assassin found that nobody was particularly well disposed toward him. Tailyn turned off his sound, though he watched steadily as the green lix and his mentor went to work. If it hadn’t been for Vargot, which had absorbed almost all the damage the bomb had to offer, the
explosion would have been disastrous. It was time to pay the piper.

  The Crobar assassin held out for half an hour. The regeneration potions worked wonders—wounds closed unbelievably quickly without even bleeding, and the poison the assassin swallowed did nothing. The capsule had been attached to one of his teeth. Regardless, his efforts were in vain, as the pair working on him were good at their job. Valanil didn’t have the executioner attribute, but she kept right up with the lix, even surpassing him in some respects to the surprise of Forian.

  As it turned out, the Crobar hierarchs had been impressed with the emperor’s summons and sent liquidation groups out into the Gray Lands. Each of them had a set territory to cover and two months to cover it, after which they were supposed to head back using teleportation scrolls. If Tailyn wasn’t dead by then, phase two would begin: Crobar’s best would be sent into the areas the groups didn’t come back from. That meant the city could count on a sustained attack two months later—Crobar didn’t take lightly to losing its own. The assassin only regretted not taking out Tailyn or someone close to him with the blast.