Gloominess +4: The Cradle of Gods. A LitRPG series: Book 4 Read online

  Arg jumped back quickly, getting the shield from behind his back with lightning speed. Varg, together with the chief, slid open the stone slab.

  Rorh the Mad, Chief of the Ogroids

  Level 177

  HP: 23,174/23,174

  He was definitely more than ten feet tall. He moved the slab, straightened up, squared his shoulders, and spread his giant arms, thick as a pine trunk each. Muscles could be clearly seen on his naked body even under his dark-gray fur.

  “RRRROOORRRHHH!!!” he roared into the ceiling. Suddenly lowering his head, he rushed off.

  Well prepared, the twins bumped into the chief with their shields from both sides.

  “RORH! MY CHIEF!!” Nurgia roared loudly. “I’VE BROUGHT YOU DINNER!”

  She tossed the pig into her husband’s face. He roared and caught the meat with his left hand. Though it was obvious that the Ogroids were doing everything according to a tested plan, I doubted that food would be able to distract the crazy predator.

  It was like I had foreseen the future.

  Rorh hit Arg’s hand with his dinner, roared even louder and then threw Varg aside. With the corner of my eye, I caught glimpse of the astonishment look on Nurgia’s face.

  “He has felt the Ancient One!” Drohen cried when the chief rushed at the Old Man. The Priest tried to physically stop Rorh, but failed to do so. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to cast a spell. All he could do was wheeze when his back met one of the walls.

  “Grrrr!” Vella rushed to protect her master. But what could she do against a mad Ogroid that was three times stronger than her?

  Everything was happening so fast that at first I thought that I couldn’t do anything. But when Vella got thrown away, I materialized the trishula and made a step forward, ready to make a shish kebab out of Rorh. At the same moment, I lifted my left arm, aiming at him, and almost began casting Tranquility.

  “Stop,” the Old Man calmly said, lifting his right arm in front of him. The darkness of the tunnel began to thicken. Like vine, it wrapped itself around Rorh’s legs and arms in a flash, pulling him to the ground.

  “RRROOORRRHHHH!!!” the chief roared. Having fallen on all fours, he struggled to tear apart the binds.

  “Calm down, my friend,” the Old Man quietly said, waving his hand. Black smoke covered Rorh, soaking into his body.

  “GRRR!!!” The chief continued roaring, but his voice was much quieter now.

  “He’s so stubborn,” the Old Man said regretfully, releasing more black smoke.

  “DON’T INTERFERE!” the Priest snapped at Nurgia and the twins. Leaning against the wall, Drohen got to his feet with an effort.

  It took the Old Man ten casts of his version of Tranquility to overpower Rorh, who went limp and fell asleep on the floor.

  “Have you helped him, Ancient One?” Drohen limped over to the Old Man.

  “No,” he replied sadly, sending black smoke in Vella’s direction. “I can’t help him.”

  “You can’t?” Nurgia stepped forward. “You can’t help my chief?” She looked into the hood, but saw only Darkness. But she didn’t give up. “You? An Ancient? The one whom the Priest had told us so much about? The one whose return the Guardians and Shamans have been waiting for? You say that you can’t help the one who is cursed because of your weakness and the weakness of those like you?”

  “Nurgia, watch your mouth!” Drohen said in a warning tone.

  “No! GRRRR!!!” Nurgia bared her straight, sharp teeth. “I’ll speak my mind! I don’t understand why their arrival has brought so much joy,” she said, waving her hand at me and the Old Man. “Weren’t humans the ones who betrayed the Ancient? And look! Here’s a human, walking with an Ancient like nothing had happened. Haven’t we been waiting for the Ancient this whole time? And now that he’s here, he says that he can’t do anything for our chief? Then why do we need any of this? Why have my ancestors been guarding the energy source? Why do we live near a half-crazy God, when we could’ve found a much better place for us long ago?”

  The sincerity and harshness of her words surprised me. Did she really have such high hopes for the Old Man? Did she believe that he’d help her husband? I doubted that she had known anything about our arrival less than an hour ago. So what was it then? Was she holding a grudge against the Ancients? Did she hate humans? Did she wish for more than a life in ruins? Quite possibly… Did other races like to blame other people for their own problems? Or was there something that I didn’t understand? And who was this Mad God she mentioned?

  Chapter 7

  The Source

  “You’re right about everything, girl,” the Old Man said in his usual drawling manner. “Not only your people, but the whole world suffers because of our weakness.”

  “And because of your love for humans!” Nurgia grunted.

  “Don’t drag them into this, girl,” the Old Man said coldly. A circle of black smoke spread from his figure in all directions. When it touched my skin, I momentarily felt fear. Nurgia winced and took a step back. “You’re right. I don’t have as much strength as I’d like to,” he continued in a calmly manner. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not grateful to all of you for having faith in us. And for guarding the source. As for the chief, girl… Think about what you really want from me. Do you want me to return his mind to him? How will that benefit you?”

  Nurgia stared defiantly into the depth of the hood, but was in no hurry to answer.

  “As for the mad God,” the Old Man continued. “I know about him. Priest Drohen told me everything. I also know that he didn’t cause you as much trouble before. Don’t worry. I’ve already decided to meet him. And who knows, maybe something more than a mere acquaintance will come out of this meeting,” he said and pointed at the chief. He was silent for a couple of seconds before he turned around. “Let’s go. I need to meet the Shaman first.”

  The Old Man confidently floated toward the exit of the tunnel. Vella, whose health had fully recovered thanks him, woofed and was first to follow him.

  “Arg, Varg, lock the chief up,” Drohen ordered, having noticed that Rorh’s binds had vanished.

  It looked like the Old Man searched the Priest’s brain and sucked out all the knowledge out of his head. The God of Darkness didn’t need anyone to accompany him anymore — he knew where the source was and could find it himself. On the other hand, he could’ve known its location from the period before the Ancient lost the war.

  Ignoring my questions about the Mad God, the Old Man continued on his way, and we — Nurgia, Drohen, and me on Vella — tried to keep up with him. Soon, our delegation had walked through the whole settlement and arrived to its other border. Then we went into the forest and waded through the high grass for about ten minutes, circling old trees, until a hill blocked our way.

  The Old Man froze in front of the obstacle. Those who were with him didn’t dare to disturb him, so we all stood in silence. Using the chance, I decided to take a better look at the hill, which looked like, well, like an ordinary hill overgrown with grass and old trees. However…

  I looked up at the thick trunks and enormous treetops full of giant leaves. I shifted my gaze to the right, at the trees that were growing in the forest. Then I looked again at those on the hill. They were definitely the same type of tree, but the ones on the hill were larger and more magnificent. The grass was also much thicker there.

  The reason for the denser vegetation was probably better “fertilizer,” one found deep in the hill itself, rather than the fact that the flora on the hill was closer to the sun.

  I was slowly getting a better understanding of the life cycle of this world. As soon as I thought about how the source had influenced the growth of the plants, the Old Man raised his left hand and released a stream of thick, black smoke. The earth under our feet shuddered, leaves and trees rustled, and then a breach appeared on the slope. It grew slowly, until it turned into a ten-feet tall opening.

  The tunnel was well lit, which was rather odd for a ca
ve.

  The Old Man continued his walk in silence. Just like before, we tried to keep up with him. Once we were all underground, the entrance closed again.

  “It’s beautiful,” I muttered, looking at the roots sticking out of the earthen walls. Some of them were shining with blue light and served as a light source.

  “Shamans can do much more, half-Wizard,” Nurgia grumbled in response. I still didn’t understand why she chose to go with us.

  The deeper we went, the more roots appeared. After a while, I noticed the tunnel become wider, and we soon found ourselves in a spacious hall with a dome ceiling and walls made of tightly pressed dirt.

  This time I showed neither admiration nor surprise. However, there was something to be surprised about ― a giant carcass of a very strange creature, a crossbreed between a reptile and a bird with red feathers, was lying in the center of the hall. Was it a basilisk? A giant archaeopteryx? It was difficult to tell, because the world refused to identify this dead (or sleeping?) creature.

  “WE ARE PLEASED TO WELCOME YOU, ANCIENT ONE!” The owner of the hall roared and bowed his head. He was bigger than all the Ogroids we’ve met in the settlement, except maybe the chief.

  The Ogroid Shaman

  Level 132

  HP: 16,787/16,787

  The Shaman, as well as the Guardians that were standing behind him, had reddish fur. Well, now I knew which tribe had provided the chief with a wife.

  It was curious that the Shaman and the Guardians had no names.

  “I’m glad to see you, Breathing with the World,” the God of Darkness said calmly. The Shaman looked up at him with astonishment. However, he quickly regained his composure and fell to his knees, touching the ground with his forehead. The Guardians followed his example.

  “THANK YOU FOR YOUR GIFT, ANCIENT ONE!” roared the “baptized” Shaman.

  I felt like all of this was going too smoothly. I remembered how in Ilyenta the Old Man spoke with the Tree Frog Shaman for some time during the battle before naming him. Then again, the Ogroids clearly had a pretty experienced Shaman, unlike the Tree Frogs, whose Shaman got his power with the help of Glozeysk’s bloody rituals. Also, the Decay managed to consume the Tree Frog’s initial energy source, while the Ogroids had been living near theirs for quite some time.

  “Stand up, Breathing with the World,” the Old Man said. I asked for information about the Shaman again and noticed changes in his description.

  Blessed Shaman, Breathing with the World

  Level 157

  HP: 21,984/21,984

  The Shaman and the Guardians did as they were told. Paying no attention to them, the God of Darkness approached the mysterious carcass, that is, the energy source.

  The Old Man spread his arms and looked up. Although there was no wind, his cloak fluttered.

  “Don’t interrupt him,” Drohen said quietly but with such authority that even if I wanted to disturb the Old Man, I’d think twice before doing it.

  But I wasn’t going to disturb him. On the contrary, I… I didn’t want this moment to end. I was beginning to not only understand what it meant to be a Wizard, but also to physically feel the power of the source. It reminded me of a whirlwind.

  I took off my hood, leaving my beard-covered cheeks open to the energy. It hurt…

  But still, the physical sensation was just a half, maybe a third of all the feelings I felt. Anyone could feel the energy with their cheeks, but a Wizard could feel the very nature of it. Yes, it was similar… Similar to my skills? Perhaps. But only partly. Was it similar to, say, Rugus’s skills? No. Definitely, not. Maybe a tiny bit…

  Though… If I combined all the skills of the people that I’ve met so far… I supposed that it’d be possible to feel half of what the energy of the source had to offer.

  That’s right, my boy. The Old Man lowered his arms and the whirlwind, and all of the sensations disappeared.

  I opened my eyes, shook my head, and stared at the back of the Old Man’s head.

  Did you… Stir the source for me? I didn’t get an answer. The God of Darkness turned around and addressed the Shaman.

  “Breathing with the World, will you let my Wizard touch the source and absorb some of it?”

  I mentally gave the Old Man credit for this noble gesture. He could’ve just ordered (even mentally if he didn’t want to be rude) the Shaman to do it, as he wouldn’t be able to refuse an Ancient. Having asked him like this, the Old Man gave the Shaman a chance to feel the significance of his title, at the same time proving himself a friendly mentor, and not a cruel boss.

  It was very convenient to ask something from those who couldn’t refuse you. It was better than ordering them around. It was the same principle, but carefully chosen words always had a better effect.

  A lot of people would mistake politeness for weakness, but glancing at the faces of the Ogroids, I realized that there were no such people among them.

  “OF COURSE, ANCIENT ONE,” the Shaman roared with reverence in his voice and bowed again. “THOSE WHO FOLLOW YOU ARE WORTHY. THEY CAN TOUCH THE SOURCE. EVEN HUMANS. AND IN THIS HUMAN I FEEL… SOMETHING NATIVE TO ME, SOMETHING THAT ATTRACTS ME. I WANT TO TRUST HIM. AND I SEE THAT THE FROGOIDS HAVE ALREADY CALLED HIM HIS FRIEND.”

  He wanted to trust me? So that was how the Ogroids perceived my Magnetism. They also felt Lao Ri’s “gift.”

  I sure was making an interesting image for myself: a baron with animals in his army, non-humans for friends, and a unique patron.

  Although I was given permission to approach the strange corpse, I lingered. I didn’t move until the Old Man reminded me mentally about it. Standing practically skin to skin with it, I outstretched my hand and caressed the feathers with my fingertips. Up close, they looked bright orange, not red. They felt warm.

  What animal is this? I asked the Old Man. Why did it die? Why did it become a source?

  Anyone who is connected with the world can become a source, boy. A place of power or an energy knot, as they’re called in other worlds.

  In other worlds? I asked. Are there many of them? Do you visit them often?

  There are many. A great many of them. But now is not the right time to talk about it, boy. Take the feathers.

  I plucked out the nearest feather, which was almost immediately replaced by new one. It turned from a semi-transparent silhouette into a fully materialized object in a couple of seconds. I plucked it out at once. Two seconds later, another one took its place.

  So, this creature, was it intelligent? I asked the Old Man. Or was it an ordinary beast?

  Is Vella intelligent? Or is she an ordinary beast? he answered in the same manner. Regardless, he provided me with an explanation. Long ago, the “Feathords” were companions of humans, and friends of “Ogroids” and other intelligent creatures. But now, there are very few of them left.

  He didn’t say anything else. A few minutes, later I had finished collecting the Essence’s Storage in the form of bright-orange feathers.

  Leave the uncharged part of “Zurtarn” in the source. It needs to be filled with energy.

  Chapter 8

  Zurtane

  “Are you going to meet the Mad God too, Ancient One?” Nurgia asked when we exited the cave.

  “I am, girl,” the Old Man answered. “I’m going to meet him right now.”

  “Will you let me accompany you, Ancient One?” Drohen asked at once. His voice sounded strained.

  The God of Darkness stopped and turned his head to look at the Priest. The others also stopped. Surrounding Drohen, they formed a semi-circle in front of the Old Man.

  “Why would you go with me?” he inquired. “How will you be able to help me?”

  The Old Man’s drawling voice enveloped and soothed us. No one was in a hurry to answer. The Ogroids seemed to be deep in thought. Who was this Mad God? How strong must he be if the Old Man had to hint that the high-leveled fighters would be of no use? Would he leave me here, too?

  You’ll go with me, boy. As will they.


  Will they now? I asked. Then what was that all about? My patron was far from being the God of Control, but he was also a pretty skillful “manipulator.”

  “You think,” Nurgia asked, being the first one to break the heavy silence, “that just because you’re an Ancient, you’re safe from his madness? Do you think you’ll manage to get through his barrier?”

  “Nurgia!” Drogen roared, but the Old Man waved his hand, making it clear that he didn’t need anyone to defend him.

  “Ogroids are not cowards!” Nurgia continued. “When our brothers and sisters started to go missing, we formed a search party! And then…” Nurgia pursed her lips. For a moment, she looked like a person in distress. She then bared her teeth and growled loudly, dispelling the illusion.

  “I know what happened, girl,” the Old Man retorted and with a wave of his hand sent black smoke into her chest. Nurgia tried to dodge it, but didn’t manage. When Tranquility entered her body, Nurgia relaxed, glad, I was sure, that she had failed to get out of its way.

  We stood silent for a few seconds. No one dared to speak. This time, it was Drohen who first came to his senses.

  “Ancient One,” he said and bowed. “Let me gather our warriors! We want to help! With your help, we’ll be able to defeat the Mad God and break through his barrier of madness. I’m sure that we’ll be of use to you.”

  “I’m sure in it, too, Priest Drohen,” my Patron drawled. “Go. We’ll be waiting for you near the oak, the one you call ‘two-trunked.’ ”

  The Priest nodded vigorously, showing in every way that he understood which tree the Old Man was talking about.

  “I’m going with them!” Nurgia declared, glancing sideways at Drohen, and then nodded at the two of us.

  Drohen looked at the Old Man and nodded in reply.

  We went our separate ways — the four of us (Vella kept us company, of course), as far as I could tell, went northwest, and Drohen went southeast toward the settlement.