Gloominess +4: The Cradle of Gods. A LitRPG series: Book 4 Page 6

  The Old Man moved slowly, looking both ways, as if expecting something to jump at us. For some reason he stopped by an old, dry tree, examined it carefully and released black smoke into its trunk.

  “Are you trying to impress me?” Nurgia grumbled as she watched him work.

  “Why would I need to do that, girl?” he inquired without looking at her.

  “So that Drohen and I would support you in front of our people. I think you’ve noticed that though they’re glad to see you, they’ll attack you if they think you’re a danger to the tribe. GRRR!”

  I remembered how hostile the Ogroids looked when he blessed Drohen and when he bound the chief. Nurgia was probably exaggerating, but there was some truth in her words. I knew very well how important it was to keep contact with the members of our congregation, to remind them who we were, what we were fighting for, and who our patron was. And even though Nurgia wasn’t a chief, she was obviously an authority among the Ogroids. They listened to her, which meant that the Old Man needed to clear up any misunderstandings between him and her.

  “You seem to not understand who the Ancient are, girl,” he said, continuing forward. Nurgia, Vella, and I were trailing behind him, staring at his magnificent back. “And I came to you as an Ancient,” he continued. Feeling suspicious, I asked the world for information about my patron. As I thought... There was no information about him available. Only recently did the world start to identify him as the “God of Darkness.”

  “What are you trying to tell me with your intricate phrases, Ancient One?” Nurgia huffed. She sped up, getting ahead of the Old Man, and peered into his hood.

  “Only Gods need congregations. The Ancient do not. Therefore, there’s no need for me to impress you or make you believe in me. As an Ancient, I don’t care if you believe in me or not. I don’t need your faith. The only thing that’s important to me is to keep Zurtane safe. You, Ogroids, are not a threat to it. On the contrary, your race lives in harmony with the world, and I don’t need anything more from you.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Nurgia staggered. I supposed I would’ve frozen in place myself had I not been riding Vella. But this way, my astonishment didn’t catch anyone’s eye.

  What was up with him all of a sudden? He was a man of few words, each of which was said for a reason. Did he hold this monologue so that not only Nurgia could hear it, but me as well? I was sure he did. It was quite possible that everything he said had been addressed to me in the first place.

  So, was he the God of Darkness or an Ancient? Judging by what he had said, it was clear that he had features of both, whatever that could mean… He got his power when I managed to find him Followers. Did their faith in him as a God turn him into an Ancient?

  That’s right, boy, his voice echoed somewhere in the back of my mind.

  During the time that we had spent together, I began to understand which questions he’d answer and which ones he’d ignore. Using the opportunity, I decided to probe further.

  What is “Zurtane?”

  That’s how our world is called.

  It sounded similar to “Zurtarn.” I haven’t heard that name before. What could it mean?

  Nothing, boy. Worlds are similar, but every world is unique. In our world, in “Zurtane,” it’s not customary to use its name. It just didn’t catch on historically. Don’t look for a hidden meaning, boy.

  What should I do with this information? Should I take it as a hint? Was he advising me not to fill my head with rubbish? Did the hidden meaning really exist, but someone didn’t want me to find it?

  “You say interesting things, Ancient One.” Nurgia, who was trying to keep up with the Old Man and even overrun him at times, interrupted my thoughts. “You don’t need our faith? You think I’ll believe in that? You lost to the Gods because people stopped believing in you and began to worship them instead!”

  “That’s what you think, girl,” the Old Man retorted calmly.

  “Everybody thinks so!” Nurgia was persistent.

  “That’s what the Shaman and the Priest have taught you. And what they, in turn, were taught by their predecessors. And so on, girl. But the core of all these teachings is a lie. It’s not necessary for people to know everything about their world. Sometimes, it’s enough for them to know about the end of the story, girl. The beginning and the middle of it could easily be made up.”

  “A lie?” The Old Man managed to make her fall into deep thought.

  “Yes.”

  We walked in silence again for a while. Only when we stopped near a mighty, dark-gray tree with a thick trunk that had been split in two did Nurgia speak again.

  “If you don’t need us, then why have you come?” she asked, squinting suspiciously.

  “You haven’t been listening, girl,” the Old Man answered. “I said I didn’t need your faith.”

  “Yeah. You also said that you care only about the safety of the world,” she blurted out. “So you don’t care about my tribe at all.”

  “Your tribe is a part of this world,” he replied, waving his hand. A cloud of black smoke shaped like a scythe went through Vella, Nurgia, and me. I felt warm and calm. I couldn’t help smiling, having noticed how beautiful the forest around us was, with its bright green colors, chirping birds, and rustling leaves. “As are humans, animals, birds... Everything. Except for Gods and Decay.”

  I didn’t know if Nurgia felt that it was time to stop asking questions, or if she had heard everything that she needed to know, but she didn’t speak again after that. Leaning her back against the oak’s trunk, she closed her eyes. Having glanced at her, the Old Man vanished, making it clear that I shouldn’t bother her either.

  He reappeared after an hour or so, just when I heard the rough and distant voices of the approaching Ogroids. A few minutes later, we saw Arg, Varg, Grock and five more tribesmen. None of them were under level one hundred.

  “Thank you for coming, my friends,” the Old Man said, bowing his head. “Let’s go. Let’s help your brothers and sisters.”

  “It’s we who should be thanking you, Ancient One. Thank you,” said Drohen and bowed. “Lead us!”

  I had been productive during that hour. Nurgia didn’t fall asleep as I thought at first, and she found in me a new companion to talk to.

  “Why have you come with the Ancient One?” she suddenly asked

  Not wishing to lie, I told her that we were trying to stop the Decay; that many people had risked their lives fighting for this goal and that we would help the whole world after we had assembled the Zurtarn.

  I tried to show her that not all humans were bad. I also told her that we were fighting against humans and that our troops were headed for Longera, and that this war was “human business.” I didn’t need her to get inspired by my speech and start rallying her fellow tribesmen to join our army. One could expect such impulsive and brash behavior from her. But I was against it. I had my reasons for it: first of all, I wanted our own forces to deal with this, without having to drag anyone else into this mess. The second, and the most important reason was that I didn’t want Ogroids killing humans, nor did I want the humans who served the king to see monsters among us. The king’s warriors could think us as worse than the Decay.

  I managed to bond with Nurgia, which I supposed was due to the upgraded Magnetism. After hearing my story, she seemed less haughty and even seemed to have changed her opinion of me.

  “Look, can you tell me more about the Mad God?” I asked. “Who is he?”

  “The Ancient didn’t tell you?” Nurgia sounded surprised. “Well…” She winced as if from pain and averted her gaze. “He’s a God. And he’s a madman. Our Shaman and Priest think that he was corrupted by the Decay, but it’s clear that they’re not sure. But we don’t have any other explanation for his behavior. We don’t worship Gods, but we don’t deny their existence and power. Can you imagine what it’s like living side by side with one of them? Especially a crazy one, who doesn’t know compassion or mercy?” Nu
rgia shivered, but immediately got a hold of herself. And then she told me everything she knew about him.

  Chapter 9

  The Bloody Forest

  As Nurgia told me, no one has ever seen the Mad God in person.

  “No, that’s not the right word,” she corrected herself. “Perhaps, both the humans and the Ogroids saw him, but we’ll never know for sure — no one has lived to tell the tale.”

  Both the Ogroids and the humans from the nearby settlements knew that something dangerous dwelled somewhere in the forest and that it tore bodies into little, bloody pieces. Such remains were found by the locals, who’d then send people to investigate.

  No one ever came back.

  “They say that the Priest from then was determined to find out who the culprit is. So he went to investigate,” Nurgia continued. “But when he entered the Bloody Forest, the domain of the Mad God, he ordered everyone to turn back. The Priest felt the God’s divine energy as well as, as it seemed to him, the Decay. When he returned home, he told the Chief and the Shaman about what he had found. Since then, no one comes anywhere near to the Forest.”

  Those events happened a long time ago, but the tribe dared not to disobey this order — nobody wanted to deal with the God. Sometimes, new Priests would go to the border of the Forest, but only to confirm that the divine energy and the Decay were still there.

  From time to time, some of the Ogroids that went in that direction would go missing. This wasn’t a common occurrence, so the tribe didn’t pay much attention to it, just tried to stay even further away from the domain of the Mad God.

  One day, a young, eager Chief led his squad into the Forest, determined to deal with their crazy neighbor once and for all. Luckily, an heir had been born before the Chief left on this trip…

  “That’s how we lived for many, many years. There was no sign of trouble, but it still came.” Nurgia clenched her fists and growled. “Half a moon ago, he attacked us! He rampaged through the village! He killed some, and took many more with him!”

  “He kidnapped them?” I was surprised. My imagination presented me with a picture of chained Ogroids walking in single file and being whipped by the God. “But how?” I asked, realizing that my head was becoming full of nonsense.

  “With madness,” she answered quietly and lowered her gaze. “He made them mad, and they rushed toward the Forest like wild animals. When we came to our senses after the attack, I insisted on sending a search party after them. But Drohen didn’t allow it. Perhaps he did the right thing, because those who disobeyed his order and went to rescue our brothers and sisters never came back.” I had to focus to make out what she was saying, because her voice became barely audible near the end of her story. Looking at her, I caught myself thinking that in front of me stood not a proud wife of the tribe Chief, but a very tired, unhappy woman. She must’ve lost someone important, probably a family member, in that attack...

  But although I was curious, I decided not to ask. There was no need to reopen fresh wounds. The old ones, on the other hand...

  “Forgive me for asking, but is your husband’s madness connected to the Mad God somehow?”

  Nurgia shook her head. “Not directly. It’s just that such tragedies happen because the Ancient are weak…”

  I decided not to argue with her: I had neither the reason nor enough knowledge about this world for it. But when I thought about how Zurtane wouldn’t have suffered this much had the Ancient been stronger, the Old Man’s drawling voice sounded in my head.

  That’s true, boy. That’s true.

  I mounted Vella and looked around, remembering our recent conversation. The forest that surrounded us was beautiful, but I had gotten a little tired of it — the effect of the Old Man’s soothing, black smoke had disappeared, taking with it the feeling of euphoria that the beauty of our surroundings had awakened in me.

  The tensed-up faces of the Ogroids were far more interesting to look at. The mighty warriors were full of decisiveness and had no doubts that they’d come out victorious from this crusade. Were they so confident in the power of the Ancient even though no one had survived an encounter with the Mad God?

  The Old Man lifted his arm. “Stop.”

  Turning to us, he made a couple of hand gestures in our direction.

  Your Patron has cast “Accidental Darkness” on you. During a fight, you will get a random buff every 15 seconds.

  “Leave Vella here, boy,” he told me. “It’s too dangerous for her to go with us.”

  “I agree. But could you do something about her low level? It’d be good if she were a little stronger.”

  Without answering, the Old Man turned his back to me.

  Saying farewell to Vella, I followed on foot. Having walked some fifty yards, I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder. Obedient as always, Vella remained where she was. There was sadness in her gaze. I nodded in gratitude and didn’t turn back anymore.

  “THAT’S THE BLOODY FOREST!” Grock roared, pointing at the nearest oak with the tip of his sword. There was a gaping hole bristled with splinters in the thick trunk. Sticking out of it was a deer’s head with its ears and nose ripped off. I wanted to wrinkle my face in disgust, but I kept my emotions under control — I shouldn’t show weakness in front everyone.

  The Old Man stopped a few feet in front of the tree and pointed his left hand at it. I wondered what kind of information, if any, he could dig out of the carcass. I hoped that whatever he finds would help us in the fight against whoever did this to the poor animal.

  “Everyone, stay quiet,” Drohen ordered, looking sternly at the Ogroids. The guys were loud, but I doubted that the God wouldn’t notice us even if we were as quiet as a mouse. We were, after all, trespassing.

  After that, we walked even slower than before, glancing around cautiously. Even the Old Man didn’t seem to be in a hurry. He, too, was looking around, studying his surroundings. In one of the trees he noticed another mark — a human hand with a missing thumb and index finger. Just like before, he stared at it for a few seconds, trying to get information out of it.

  “Biergein,” he whispered quietly, not trying to hide the pain in his voice. “Poor fellow… Even after so many years, you’re still fighting…”

  I had never seen the Old Man’s face. I wasn’t even sure if he had one. Did he have a nose? But we clearly heard him inhale and then exhale slowly — sometimes, I did that, too, to calm down and suppress the pain, or at least turn it into anger. Or maybe even fury.

  A ring of black smoke spread from the Old Man. When the Darkness went through my body, I shivered — there was so much concentrated anger in it. For a moment, I felt as if my body had been split into pieces, but was immediately put together again. All that remained was an unpleasant shiver and strange thoughts.

  His emotions were very human-like. Never before have I noticed that in him…

  I’ve never spent this much time among mortals in this form, boy. The Old Man sounded irritated at first, but he quickly calmed down.

  Let’s go, he said and carried on.

  Pressing silence followed us for the next couple of moments. Nurgia was the first to gather the courage to break it.

  “Who’s Biergein? Is that the Mad God’s name? Who’s he fighting with? With us? With humans? With all the sentient beings? What for?” she demanded to know.

  Having circled in the air around the oak, which grew at an angle and looked like a giant arrow stuck in the ground, the Old Man turned to her.

  “Not with you, girl, but with his madness. All of it.” He stopped near the neighbor tree and pointed at the hole in its trunk — in it was an Ogroid foot. “A warning for all of you to stay away. But a part of him… suffers, because he has to kill.”

  “He suffers?!” Nurgia roared, losing her temper. “So he suffers, huh?! I think you’ve got it wrong, Ancient One! Those who suffer are the unlucky bastards that fall into his hands! People whose children, parents, and spouses become victims of this lunatic butcher! Those are th
e ones who suffer!”

  “Enough, Nurgia,” Drohen said quietly, but distinctively enough, and lifted his lip a little, baring his mighty, sharpened teeth. “Pardon her, Ancient One. The Mad God captured her youngest son. You understand...”

  “Yes, I do,” the Old Man replied without turning. “And I understand Biergein, too. I’m not trying to defend anyone. But the fact stands that he’d never kill anyone just to prolong his life. His madness demands this from him.”

  “To prolong his life? Excuse me, but could you elaborate?” Drohen asked politely.

  “Ordinary Gods need a congregation. People’s faith is what keeps them alive. However, existing doesn’t require too much energy, so the surplus is converted into power and strength. But the Mad God doesn’t have a congregation. His way of accumulating energy is the same as that of the Decay — consuming lives. But unlike the Decay, he can’t drain life out of the earth, air or grass... Only out of living creatures. And the bigger and stronger the creature is, the more strength he gets. So the reason why he abducted and killed your brethren is the same as why you go hunting — to get food. He didn’t need much before, but now he needs to stock up.”

  “Stock up?!” Nurgia was struggling to keep her emotions under control. “We thought that he made them his warriors…”

  “You wanted to believe that,” the Old Man answered calmly. “But you knew... But there’s hope, girl. It’s possible that some of your tribesmen are still alive. No one eats their entire stock in one day. And now, be quiet. I feel we’re almost there. I feel the madness…”

  Nurgia was about say something, but got a grip of herself and gave up. The other Ogroids also braced themselves; they were about to face the Bloody Forest that so many tribe legends talked about.

  But the silence didn’t last long. When the bright green, humanoid Will-o’-the-Wisps appeared ahead, the group stirred uncomfortably.

  “By the Ancients… We have to go there?” Nurgia muttered under her breath.

  Chapter 10