Life Reset: Salvation (Life Reset - Neo Book 6) Page 5
The goblinette smiled at me. “I wanted to meet the heroes you sent out, Father.”
“Oh, we’re not hero—” Riley started saying, then his eyes widened, and he began choking and spluttering.
I slapped his back and he spat out a chunk of food.
“Father?” he exclaimed when he got his breath under control. “I knew she was a princess, but …”
“Ah, right, you weren’t around when she was born,” I said. “Yeah, Lirian is my daughter. I know it might sound weird, but she’s important to me; I trust you’ll treat her well.”
“We’re practically besties by now,” Misa said, putting her arm around the goblinette’s shoulders.
“They have been very accommodating, Father,” Lirian said.
“May I sit with you?” I asked.
“Help yourself,” Fox grunted, then noisily slurped down a bowl of stew and put the empty dish on top of a growing pile of similar bowls.
“You were feeling a little peckish, I gather?” I asked with a smile.
“You don’t know the half of it, man,” Riley said. “We spent the last year having to choose between spending our money on food or basic adventuring gear so we could complete simple quests to earn more money. Having free access to so much food is a treat. Even the ladies stuffed their faces.”
“Excuse me,” Misa said indignantly. “I did not ‘stuff my face.’ I ate like the lady that I am.”
“Yeah, a half-goblin lady that stuffs her face,” Riley agreed.
Raystia giggled. “The food here is much better than I remembered. And the place is bigger.”
“We renovated,” I said. “Also got a few more recipes and access to some new ingredients.”
Riley patted his extended stomach. “I’m gonna stay right here and see if I can clean out your kitchen. They have to stop being able to keep up with us at some point.”
“I doubt it,” I said with a chuckle. “Gandork and his staff are used to cooking thousands of dishes every day; only a small portion of them come to the inn. Most are delivered to the Breeder’s Den.”
“The building that Raystia demolished?” Fox looked at me, seeming interested for the first time, ignoring the catgirl’s embarrassed cough. “That’s a fine piece of architecture.”
I vaguely remembered that the yellow-furred bugbear was a bigshot architect in real life. “Yeah. Though I’ve taken care to magically ward the building since then.” I winked at the catgirl. “Not going to be so easy to blow it up a second time.”
She smirked. “Is that a challenge, Uncle Oren?”
“Oh, no.” I raised both hands. “I’m not competing with you and your devious mind.”
“Smart,” Fox said between chews.
“I do have another challenge to offer you,” I said.
That drew everyone’s attention from their food. Lirian’s long goblin ears perked up.
“There’s an infestation of bonetises, a sort of skeletal praying mantis, at Storg,” I explained. “We found the entrance to their lair, and the other players are organizing a hunting party to clean it out for the loot and XP. I thought I’d check if you’re interested in joining them?”
“An infestation? Where, exactly?” Misa asked with a raised eyebrow.
“The sewers.”
“No thanks.” She shuddered. “I’ve had enough sewer-related quests to last me a lifetime.”
“You sure?” I asked. “This time you’d be operating inside an allied town. You’ll have backup, and it’s a good chance to get some decent XP. The bonetises are around level 20, from what I’m told.”
“Interesting,” Fox said. “I don’t mind gaining some more levels; our growth stagnated during our time in Everance.”
“You’ll only need to catch up to the levels of our soldiers if you want to join the army,” I said. “I see you’re around level 15, so it should be a good match for you.”
Riley shook his head. “You make a good point, but I’m with Misa on this. Unless there’s a real reward, I’m not going back into another sewer.”
I winced. “I no longer have my Quest Giver skill. Shiva took it away. He said I was exploiting it.”
“I can offer you some more gold,” I suggested. “Though not as much as before, since I’d have to offer the same to the other players as well.”
“That’s too bad,” Fox said. “Those quests of yours were good XP.”
“Let me check what else I can offer,” I said and opened my inventory.
I didn’t have a lot on me since I used to send most of the mundane stuff I looted directly into the clan’s warehouse. Aside from the equipment I was wearing, I mostly carried unique items like the Chalice of Infernal Energies I used to make foblins go ‘boom,’ the Book of the Damned – which was a demon-summoning tome – some spatial satchels, and the broken Divine Amulet I got from Whitebanner’s head priest. I also had a Divine Essence gem – a drop of crystallized Outrider blood. I had tried swapping it for the amulet’s cracked central gem, but my dark magic conflicted instantly with the holy relic, nearly causing a catastrophic reaction. I’d kept the two items separated ever since.
I settled on taking out a few potions – healing ones that were too weak for my prodigious health pool and one that turned the drinker into mist – as well as a couple of scrolls.
Fox barely glanced at the items. “No thanks.”
My daughter’s eyes, however, were glued to one of the scrolls. “What is that?”
I followed her gaze. “That’s a Teleport of Fate scroll. Supposedly it transfers the caster to where he should be …” I drifted off as I realized something. My daughter had a trait called Child of Fate, which sounded awfully synergetic with the scroll. I offered it to Lirian, and she nearly snatched it out of my hands.
“Maybe you should—” I started saying as the goblin girl unfolded the parchment. But she was already reading it.
The scroll charred and vanished as Lirian cast the spell. A blinding golden hue appeared around my daughter for a split second before dissipating. She blinked as the rest of us stared at her.
“What was that?” I asked. “Why didn’t you wait?”
Lirian shook her head. “I’m not sure, Father. I had this incredible urge to use the scroll, but nothing happened.”
“I always meant to study it more deeply. It’s the only one of its kind I’ve ever encountered.”
“I guess I should join up now.” Lirian smiled at me.
“Join up what?”
“The raid,” she said patiently. “I accepted payment, so now I must provide the required service.”
“Hold on.” My dad instincts kicked in, making me frown. My eyes narrowed as I examined my daughter. Her leather armor was of good quality and had a decent durability enchantment over it, but it was inadequate to deflect sharp bonetis claws. I was about to refuse, but then I thought better of it. At level 45, Lirian was twice the level of the bonetises, so she was hardly out of her league. If anything, it was a relatively safe environment for her to train in. I’d have to fix the condition of her gear, but for the moment, it wasn’t a reason to stand in her way. “Alright, but take some soldiers with you.”
“Yes, Father,” she agreed amicably.
“Nepotism aside, what about us?” Riley asked.
I had a sudden flash of inspiration and grinned at the adventurers. “You know what, I have another idea. How about 10,000 XP for everyone who participates in clearing out the infestation?”
That drew their attention.
“Holy crap,” Riley said. “That’s enough to get me to level 20.”
Fox stared at me pointedly. “I thought you said you don’t have your quest-giving skill anymore.”
“I don’t,” I said with a grin. “But there are other ways.”
I’d just found a good use for the abundance of energy my clan had in store. At their level range, the EP to XP cost ratio was about one to one. I could hand out a few tens
of thousands of XP. It was a good way to help the players gain a leg up while also motivating them.
The Mob Squad looked at each other, and something passed between them.
“We’re in, Uncle Oren,” Raystia said finally. Her eyes suddenly looked huge, and her voice quivered slightly. “But will you please consider giving us some of it up front …”
I rolled my eyes as the rest of her party snickered.
***
I left the Mob Squad to organize for the raid and went looking for my trade minister. I’d sensed the gremlin at the marketplace and wanted to catch up with him before he popped away for another survey.
“There ‘ya are,” a familiar voice growled. Then a goblin-sized ant-person stepped out to block my way. “Been looking for ya’, fugly.”
“Ragnar,” I greeted the player and stifled a sigh. “What can I do for you?”
“You can’t keep me back ‘ere and let everyone else have all tha’ fun,” he snarled.
I took a step back. Ragnar and I had been bitter enemies for a while. The player, previously a dwarf, had worked against my clan, threatened my daughter, and even permanently murdered my army’s previous general and friend, Bob. Since I needed his knowledge to help decrypt the Outrider tablet, I had found a fitting punishment for him. I’d used the same race change scroll on him that had been used to turn me into a monster, giving him his current insectile appearance. It forced him to either join forces with me or live a miserable existence as a lonely monster. It took a while, but we formed a crude partnership that allowed us both to tolerate each other’s presence.
“I’m not keeping you here against your will,” I said.
“Oh, ye ain’t?” he said sarcastically. “You promised to show me war, but I sit on my ass all day out here. Yor clan is too comfortable; makes a man grow soft and weak.”
Vic snickered.
I ignored my cheesy companion. “There’s nothing wrong with resting. Why are you so eager to fight?”
“Need to grind some XP and get stronger,” Ragnar said. “Got the plan all figured out.” He raised his vice-like hands. “Gonna turn this drone thing ‘round, make myself into a real killer ant.”
I shook my head. Ragnar was obsessed with getting stronger, and judging by his previous avatar, he had a knack for building powerful characters. “Why is that so important to you?”
The drone’s multifaceted eyes narrowed. “Not a soul in this world gonna help ya out if ya can’t help yerself, boy. Gotta make yerself strong – strong ‘nuf so ya ain’t hav’n to rely on others. Strong enough to get what'cha want.” There was a haunted look in his eyes as he spoke.
“You know … you are part of a clan now, so you’re never alone. There’s always someone to back you up – not to mention an army of thousands of soldiers.”
“Pfft,” he snorted. “Only power that matters is m’self. Can’t trust no one else. They’ll all betray ya when shit hits the fan.”
That declaration soured the atmosphere. Ragnar obviously had some deep-seated issues. He was still just another tormented player.
I needed to lighten the mood, and I suddenly recalled an amusing fact about the person standing in front of me. “Is that why you had a high-leveled Baking skill when I first met you?” I grinned at him. “When you first came to scout out my clan.”
“Yeh,” he said, not seeming the least bit embarrassed that I knew about it.
I looked at him skeptically. “Really?”
He shrugged. “Tha’ was my third playthrough. Any idiot can reach a high level, but ya need to plan ahead ta’ really squeeze the most outta everything. With tha’ dwarf, I was playin’ at level 40, an’ I soloed level 60 monsters.”
I stared at him in surprise. “That’s pretty incredible, but what’s that got to do with baking?”
He smiled smugly at me. “I figured tha’ one out on my second playthrough. Bakin’ gives tha’ best combat buffs for my build – cheap, too. Use‘ta bake raisin muffins o’ explosive power.”
“I guess that makes sense. So how come you didn’t have that skill after Shiva reset everyone?”
He winced. “Buyin’ flour and other stuff got too damn expensive. I had to find myself a patron to really amp up the killin’ power.”
“The God of Light,” I said, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah, that VI bitch Hildiel,” Ragnar agreed. “Gave some sweet gear and bonuses but demanded too much for ‘em. Now I gotta start all over again. This drone thing ain’t too bad; armor gets higher with levels, but I need’ta grind some monsters first.”
“Then you’re in luck,” I said. “There’s a bonetis infestation back at Storg; they’re around level 20. The other players are forming up a raid to hunt them down. I’m offering 10,000 XP for any player that helps clear them out.”
“You got yerself a deal, Chief,” Ragnar said. “Get my XP ready. I’ll be back to collect.”
Even though I’d just promised him the reward, and was much stronger than him, Ragnar still made that sentence sound like a threat. “Don’t worry,” I said. “It’ll be here, waiting. You can get to Storg via the portal.”
The antman nodded once then walked toward the cathedral.
I shook my head. Ragnar had a sort of brutal intensity to him that made any conversation a harrowing experience.
“We are nothing alike,” I said indignantly.
I shook my head. Vic just didn’t get it. There were differences. Ragnar was ruthless. A person who let nothing and no one stand in the way of his goals.
We were nothing alike.
Interlude: Adventurers
“Well, this seems like overkill,” Misa said cheerfully as the Mob Squad arrived at the gathering point in Storg.
A score of other players was already present along with two army squads of their highest-level fighters and healers.
“Misa, is it?” A scrawny player with a serious expression approached their party and offered his hand. “I’m Sullivan, the army strategist. I’m organizing this raid.”
“Charmed.” Misa flashed him a disarming grin that was somewhat marred by the display of her sharpened teeth.
“I think we can begin,” Sullivan said as he surveyed the large crowd of grim-faced warriors. “Alright, everyone, please listen up.”
The conversation died out as all eyes turned to the strategist.
Sullivan cleared his throat. “As you all know, we have a bonetis infestation problem. Our benevolent chief—” Several players snickered. “—has located the entrance to their nest. Since it’s underground and bound to involve crawling through narrow tunnels, we’ll divide into teams. The goal is to kill every bonetis you encounter and find their boss – probably a queen of some kind. The bonetises we’ve encountered were around level 20, so this shouldn’t be too difficult. When you find the boss, I advise waiting for the other teams and attack together. Any questions?”
“Someone said something about a reward?” Jaelon asked.
“Ah, yes,” Sullivan said. “Oren offers 10,000 XP for any player participating in the raid. A very gracious reward, but hardly one that motivates excellence. That’s why …” He glanced around, making sure he had everyone’s attention. “… I’m sweetening the pot. The player-team that kills the most bonetises – proven by collecting their right foreclaw – will be fully outfitted with the army’s best gear, free of charge. We have a lot of equipment, ladies and gentlemen, much of it enchanted. We’re talking about several thousand gold’s worth of gear.”
All of the players brightened at that.
“I got my eye on one of those glassteel armors,” one player said as he enviously studied the few player-officers who wore them. He paused a moment. “W
hat do you mean by player-teams?”
Sullivan smiled at him and bowed his head at an approaching goblinette leading a few other NPCs. “Princess, I trust that you have your father’s permission to join the raid.”
“I do.” She pointed at the three young hobs following her. “I’m going to help these new soldiers level up.”
“You sure about it, kid?” Kyth spoke up. “Those three are only level 3 younglings, they’ll be butchered.”
Lirian nodded firmly. “I’m sure. It’s what my father would have done.”
“Savol comes with the princess, too.” The goblin general stepped forward. “Me will not let princess go alone.”
Sullivan shrugged. “Alright, then sort into groups, and let’s go.”
The Mob Squad moved closer together, while Malkyr, Hoshisu, Kyth, and two other players formed another team. Aly and Nero decided to partner with Jaelon and Nesteph to help them level up. Lirian, Savol, and the three young hobs stayed together.
“It’s this way,” Sullivan said.
The four parties started walking away, and a gruff voice called out behind them. “Hold on, ya’ bunch o’ ninnies.”
The Mob Squad members exchanged puzzled looks as the rest of the players scowled at the approaching antman.
“Ragnar,” Sullivan said coldly. “I assume you came to join the raid as well? Tired of hunting down players already?”
If he was insulted by the suggestion, Ragnar didn’t show it. “Na, thought I’d show you bunch o’ weaklin’s how it’s done.”
The army strategist rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I guess you can join one of the groups. If they’ll have you.”
“I work alone, boy.” The drone crossed his clawed hands together. “Now, where’s them bone-asses hiding at?”
“You’re planning on going alone? They’ll rip you apart.”
Ragnar snorted. “You either die or get strong fast. And I’m all fer gettin’ strong.”
“It’s your respawn,” Sullivan muttered as he beckoned everyone to follow him through the streets.
The raid group reached an opened manhole and climbed down into the sewers.