Tartila Mine (The Alchemist Book #5): LitRPG Series Read online

  The reply came quickly from a quarter nobody expected. While they’d all turned to look at Valanil, Valrus chimed in from his position far away from the action.

  Crobar doesn’t have many stilettos, a bit more than a couple hundred. Since they were made before the exodus, they even drop out of your inventory after you die, and anyone who finds one is required to return it to Crobar. They say they were made by Isr Kale and Mark Derwin. And no, they can’t cut through absolutely everything—there’s some kind of enchantment that just works on living beings and their shields. I just can’t figure out how they hit us.

  “There’s nobody on my scanner,” Tailyn said. “Or maybe, they’re just doing a good job hiding. Although, the guards haven’t spotted anything, and there’s no hiding from them.”

  “Crossbows. They’re shooting the stilettos using crossbows.” Valanil poked her head up above the battlement and pulled it right back down. A moment later, a piece of metal dinged off the stone in a shower of sparks. The Crobar assassins were at the ready.

  “How is that possible?” Motar asked, his eyes wide with shock.

  “Easy. Turning a dagger into a bolt is a matter of minutes.”

  “Those things are three hundred meters away!” the lookout called. “They’re past the first marker!”

  “Tailyn?” Valanil glanced over at the boy inquiringly.

  “Are you blind? He could lose consciousness at any moment! It’s going to be another hour before he’s good to go,” Valia spat angrily. She had plenty of pent-up rage to take out on someone for how poorly prepared they were for the defense, and her older sister seemed like the perfect target.

  “It’s okay, I’ll be fine,” Tailyn said, jumping in. He had no doubt Valanil had her reasons for pushing him in his condition. “We just need to wait a bit—I want to see what Raptor thinks of the battle elephants. They probably have weaknesses, so I can jump up and finish them then. And hey, lying down is even better. I don’t need to stand up.”

  One thing Tailyn knew was that he could get to just about anywhere outside the city walls. Over the previous couple months, he’d scoured the area, picking up details and leaving his own teleportation stones every thirty meters just in case. But he hadn’t tested that out. There was no doubt the space around Mean Truk was dotted with high-level scouts, and that was the same reason he hadn’t ventured far from the city. At the most, he’d gotten two hundred meters away. And that was the range he was talking about. The battle elephants needed to get that close.

  Once more, the catapults lent their voice to the conversation, knocking the protective field down a peg. Valrus whined, complained about the injustice of it all, and went back to work. But the attackers weren’t satisfied with just that one volley. Almost instantly, there came another call from the lookout.

  “The mages are moving in right after those beasts. Two hundred meters to the wall! And they have crossbowmen behind them. Alert, alert! Full-scale attack!”

  Tailyn pulled himself into a sitting position and leaned against the battlement. There was no sense looking out yet—he was only going to get one shot before the Crobar assassins trained their weapons on that part of the wall. Still, he wasn’t blind. Li-Ho-Dun had gotten to the temple and flew all the way up to the top, from which point Tailyn, after changing a few settings, had the benefit of additional eyes pulled up on his screen. He took a look over the battlefield. Suddenly, his spirits sank. There was an impressive number of attackers coming at them, not to mention the five giant hulks lumbering toward the city. On their backs, they carried... Tailyn frowned and sent the dragon closer for a better look. There were no drivers on the elephants. Instead, there were four or five featureless people on each, all clothed in the uniform mages hated the most. Crobar’s gray assassins were making their way toward the city riding the elephants, crossbows at the ready. As one of the hierarchs jerked, cutting loose his improvised bolt, the population of Mean Truk dropped again. One of the numerical defenders had decided to try his luck and peek out from the battlement. And that was enough for the Crobar killers.

  Minutes crept slowly by. The catapults intensified their assault, almost as if they were looking to pound the defenders into the earth. The Crobar assassins continued picking off their targets. Using the battle elephants as meat shields, the huge crowd of mages moved forward. The regular army was behind them to crash through the force shield with their swords. Somewhere off on the horizon, the destroyers lurked, prepared to join the fray at any moment. The whole world had gathered to stand united against Mean Truk, though that was when the news changed. Tailyn couldn’t suppress a happy cry the moment the battle elephants were within range of his scanner.

  “They aren’t elephants! They’re siege towers cloaked in magic. See? They stopped! They’re trying to fool us.”

  Whoever was in command was making cool, calculated moves. The planet’s regular scanners had a range of one hundred meters, and the “elephants” had stopped a hundred and fifty meters away to maintain the illusion. Unfortunately for the attackers, they didn’t know Tailyn’s scanner had a range of 1,080 meters. And if the boy hadn’t known the whole thing was a trick, he would have been awfully nervous.

  “But why the diversion? Why are they trying to get us all focused on fake animals?” Valanil started looking around in an effort to figure out what was going on.

  “They’re inside!” the lookout screamed, those two words the last he ever uttered. The stationary portal they’d built in the city suddenly activated to spit out a strange machine looking like an enormous flashing cylinder with a dozen slender legs. That was what the lookout had noticed. As it moved toward the temple, the machine heard the cry and turned a blaster on its source, disintegrating the lookout post and its occupant in one fell swoop. But the intruder didn’t stop there. Realizing it had been noticed, it began firing rays in every direction, cutting down the city occupants with fearsome precision. Just a few seconds later, it had done more damage than all the Crobar assassins put together. Tailyn’s perception hadn’t yet told him who was in the city when Valrus’s hysterical screech rang out in his ears.

  “Destroy the portal before all four of them can get in! It’s the emperor!”

  Chapter 18

  3rd Planet Emperor (machine). No class. No age. No level.

  ONE GLANCE AT THE EMPEROR was enough to tell anyone that it was another One just stripped of the human side. Both ancients Tailyn had come across attempted to mimic humans, at least in form if not in thought. They even tried to express emotions. But with the emperor, all that apparently went out the window—the cylindrical body was all he needed. Balls of plasma appeared out of nowhere and streaked toward their targets, each taking out one or even two Mean Trukians. Once his path was cleared, the emperor headed toward the temple, somehow knowing that was where the city’s defense hub was located. That was his primary target. The only problem was that he was stopped before he could get there.

  The portal began to flicker, the next cylindrical body ready to drop into the city, but that was when the nearest building toppled onto the arch, cut the line of communication, and made sure there would be no escaping the city. Sadil had been careful to build their getaway route. After trips to see several people on different parts of the planet, they had been made the proud owners of portal scrolls tied to Mean Truk, and that meant they could hop over and activate a portal to whichever temple they had access to. Nobody was going to be joining the battle—Sadil didn’t want his people unmasked in front of the entire empire. But the whole thing was for nothing. Their way out was closed, half a million coins and four months of work wasted.

  But just taking out the portal didn’t solve the problem. Sensing something, the emperor again doused his surroundings in plasma charges, only that time they didn’t fly a dozen meters before turning into giant fireballs that disappeared instantaneously without doing any damage. Not only that, but his metal legs again kicked into action to carry him onward. But it didn’t work. The emperor was stuck. />
  Everyone turned to Tailyn in search of an explanation. If there was anyone who might have pulled something like that, it was him, though the boy was as surprised as everybody else. Nothing about the scene playing out in front of him made sense. After all, he’d seen something like that, though it was when he was visiting One. Valrus’s voice came blaring across his speakers to round out the picture.

  I lost control of the system! The system went haywire—we’re defenseless! What’s going on?!

  The answer came in the form of an emotionless metallic voice coming across the internal communication system, and that meant just one thing. The speaker had access to the overall system. But that was impossible. A month and a half before, Tailyn, had cut off his access to the outside world.

  “You humans take care of the attack coming from the outside. There’s a chance they’ll be able to get around the defenses. In the meantime, I’ll take care of the emperor—we have quite a few scores to settle.”

  “One? What are you doing here?” Tailyn just about blurted out where the ancient machine was supposed to be.

  “No, I’m not the One you know. I’m just a mold of his consciousness made to protect the city—One built me into the equipment he delivered to Mean Truk. So, while I don’t have his memory or abilities, I have an excellent idea of how to protect the city and take out any unwanted guests. The general, for instance.”

  “The emperor is a general?” Valrus gasped. The reptiloid had quickly come to terms with the fact that he was no longer responsible for the city’s defense.

  “Back during the exodus, the System selected a few high-level artificial beings and put them in charge. Generals are responsible for the population, noa consumption, and ensuring that portals work. That was how this one was able to get into the city—you invited him yourselves when you built the teleport arch. I had to remove it. But you’re getting distracted, and my information tells me the attackers are going to be reaching the city walls shortly. I’m not sure if the force shield will be able to hold him. Don’t let them in!”

  Whatever One was saying, Tailyn missed as he stared in shock at the creature of legend. General. Emperor. Hexagon leader. He was a being so powerful, there should have been no standing up to him, though whoever was suddenly in charge of the city’s defenses had proven the opposite. As force shields held the intruder in place, the only blaster installed in Mean Truk began methodically eating away at his shield. All attempts to resist were put down. Plasma, metal, electricity, and even ice were thrown back, grounded, and suppressed. Jerking, the emperor tried fruitlessly to free himself. Nearly all of Mean Truk’s resources went toward keeping that from happening, and a little while later, the mold of One piped back up.

  “I have a question for you, Tailyn Vlashich. It’s been a month and a half since the last time I was able to communicate with my parent. Do you know anything about that? From what the data says, you were the last person in Grivok.”

  “No, I’m not sure. Could One have died? These things happen...” the boy replied cautiously. He didn’t like what their guest was getting at.

  “Impossible. There’s nothing on this planet or any other capable of penetrating the dome protecting his personal prison. Apparently, there was a cave-in that cut the lines. My memory is severely limited, though I do have an entry about something like that happening five hundred years ago. Although...it’s strange. Back then, my parent took complete control of the city to make sure nothing like that could happen again... Probably just got distracted. Anyway, it will be easy enough to get communication back up and running—that’s what we’re here for.”

  “We?” Valia and Tailyn explained almost simultaneously.

  “You don’t think I’m the only consciousness mold, do you? One can’t leave Grivok, though his children are perfectly capable of it. There are lots like me roaming the planet and prepared to head back and give our experience and memory to our parent at the first call. That’s how he develops. Gets stronger. If we don’t hear from One in the next six months, one of us children will head back and reconnect the cables. Our parent will live forever!”

  Tailyn felt pinned in place by the news. Everything he’d had to go through turned out to have been in vain. One would be coming back in a year at most, and there was nothing the boy could do about that. And what was the furious ancient going to do when he did? It was anybody’s guess. In his place, Tailyn would have avenged himself on all and sundry, in particular, one especially impudent and ungrateful human kid. If he survived that day...

  “You’re forgetting about the defense,” the voice said. “Our enemies are almost to the wall. Careful, the destroyers are moving in to attack! Don’t let them take the dome down—I need time to kill the general. You have to give it to me.”

  Tailyn looked over at the picture streaming from the dragon and scowled. Five black dots were quickly approaching.

  “We’ll take care of everyone on the ground. You take the sky!” Valanil called over, after which she glanced at Forian. “They don’t have any elephants. Shall we give the balls a try?”

  “A couple will be enough. Valia, are you ready?”

  “Yes,” the girl said as she pulled up the city management panel. With four regular guards and one commander in Mean Truk, only she and Tailyn were permitted to manage their tentacled hulks. Even Forian wasn’t allowed to give the guards orders to leave the city, where they could have been a powerful force against anyone used to simple steel and agility. Getting through their thick skin and hitting vital organs took more than a crossbow. And even if a stiletto blade hit one of their hearts, the other three would make sure they kept right on going.

  “Go!” Forian called, and Valia sent the two nearest guards dashing off. Despite their size, they were impressively fast and agile, taking one powerful leap to reach the top of the wall and another to get down off the other side. Steel flashed as stiletto blades slammed into their bodies—the Crobar hierarchs were on high alert. But they had the exact result the city’s defenders had been counting on. The guards didn’t even feel the damage. As Tailyn’s heart skipped a beat, he watched the pair swoop toward two towers still masked as battle elephants and smash them into kindling with just one strike. The illusion was shattered, but that wasn’t enough for the guards. While maintaining their speed, they headed toward the remaining elephants while chowing down on attackers as they went. Tentacles grabbed Crobar assassins from every direction and stuffed them into the creatures’ mouth—they were loving the free meat. That had been a constant problem in Mean Truk, and the pair just hadn’t ever gotten enough.

  “Tailyn, the destroyers are closing in! Get ready!” Valanil risked peeking out from behind the battlement and found there was no punishment forthcoming. The Crobar hierarchs were too busy to keep up their fire on the city. Focused on staying alive, they’d dashed away from the Mean Truk walls and toward the attacking mages once they’d seen how useless they were against the guards. For their turn, the guards polished off the last “elephant” and sprinted off in hot pursuit to continue filling their bellies. Only that was a critical error. The group on the far side of the towers had something better than steel on their side.

  “Valia, no!” Valanil yelled, but it was too late. The guards were too fast. As soon as they got within a hundred meters of the mages, the latter used telekinesis to lift them into the air. The guards amusingly scrabbled around with their legs and tentacles, only Tailyn wasn’t laughing. He knew all too well that the city had just lost two powerful fighters.

  “I... I didn’t...” The girl covered her face with her hands and burst into tears. Blushing, she felt her nose begin to bleed, the price she paid for the close contact she’d enjoyed with the intelligences that had just met their end. But nobody came over to cheer her up. Tailyn couldn’t, and everyone else thought she deserved it—she’d proven unequal to the task of thinking on her feet in combat, and the whole city had paid for it. Meanwhile, a triumphant shout came from the direction of the mages. Everyone w
ho had helped kill the Mean Truk defenders had picked up six levels, three for each kill. And that wasn’t bad for a world where, according to Mark Derwin, the average level was four.

  “Take her over to where Valrus is,” Valanil said. One of the numericals jumped to follow her instructions, overjoyed to be leaving the wall. Turning to the rest of the city inhabitants, the herbalist forgot about her sister.

  “Prepare for battle! The mages tasted blood, and they’re going to be coming for us again. Crossbowmen at the ready!”

  Everyone in Mean Truk who was still on their feet gripped their crossbows so tightly their knuckles popped. Only four hours after the start of the battle, their numbers were down to forty-five humans and one reptiloid. The numericals glanced constantly over at the enraged emperor—it was hard for them to even remember why they were there. But Valanil’s threatening cry got them back in the fighting mood for at least a few moments. They were unused to fighting, all former farmers and tradesmen, and they had no idea what they were doing. Holding a weapon no longer seemed like a good idea. To the contrary, everything in them was yelling to go back to what they knew, tilling the earth, mining, and raising children. Not fighting.