Home > City of the Dead (The Alchemist Book #1) : LitRPG Series(8)

City of the Dead (The Alchemist Book #1) : LitRPG Series(8)
Author: Vasily Mahanenko

 

“I can’t give them to you, Master Mage, since I’ve only been through the first part of the initiation. I haven’t stood before the face of the god, yet. In exchange for a KORT-II ray pistol that was taken out of circulation, I was given a class and a skill, but I don’t have access to any other functionality.”

 

“There was a ray pistol here?!” the mage explained, though he quickly regained control. “Tell me what happened.”

 

No less surprised than the mage, and really more so, Tailyn began his story again without missing a single detail. Like never before, he used impressive words, most of which he was hearing for the first time. He talked about how he was looking for loaches, how he saw the stranger, how the stranger strangled Dort, how he found himself being chased, how he fell, how he got the virtual storage with three alchemical scrolls, how the KORT-II pistol adapted to him, and how he’d taken out his assailant with one lucky shot by pressing the activation button. After that, the pistol had been deactivated. The god had given him a class, though it hadn’t unlocked access to the main functionality: logs, the mission list, groups, clans. With an enormous feat of willpower, Tailyn was able to keep the crystals and voice recording out of his story. For whatever reason, he was positive that if the mage had found out he used the crystals on himself, it would have been curtains for him.

 

“So, you can’t open your status table for me?” the mage asked, and Tailyn shook his head. He really couldn’t. “How about your inventory?”

 

There was no problem with that, and the rows of cells once again appeared in front of the boy. To his own amazement, Tailyn mentally tapped one of the corners and selected demonstration in the list that popped up. His inventory was projected right on the ground between him and the mage.

 

The investigator had a hard time remaining calm. Thirty-eight cells was more than impressive for a boy ten years of age, though that was nothing compared to the seventy-nine units of arcane dust. Even by his standards, that was a huge number. Each packet in the boy’s inventory was worth at least a hundred gold—why had Elass Jing, only at level four, headed off to some god-forsaken backwoods town loaded with a treasure like that only to attack some kids? He’d even gone dashing over the rocks like a madman, risking his own neck in the process. And then, there was the fairly dangerous weaponry. Neither the whip with its bloodletting ability nor the poisoned blade were there for self-defense. No, they were for killing. But why did Elass need them? Had the mage really gotten lucky enough to happen across a crystal fence?

 

It was just a shame Elass was already dead. If the mage could have, he would have given the ignorant kid’s life for a chance to talk with Elass without a second thought, only that wasn’t an option. The boy was right—the god had punished his assailant, not him. Finding a level two ray pistol and being able to use it was an incredible coincidence. What else could have explained that chain of events besides divine intervention? And not only had the kid been able to use it; he’d scored a hit. He really was lucky. The mage made a mental note to tell the dean about him.

 

The spell ran out, and Tailyn sighed noisily. As his inventory was still projected between the two of them, he went back into the list he’d found and unclicked demonstration. The boy’s eyes shown in wonder—he knew what he was doing. Even Mistress Valanil hadn’t told him how to work with the god’s tables, and there it was, almost as if he’d known and subsequently forgotten. That alone was worth the fear he’d been dealing with.

 

“Come here.” The mage called the boy over and tied the rope around him. There was no way he was getting out on his own—without the agility skill, it was impossible. Although… The mage took another look at the boy, who’d managed to calm down. Before that day, he’d assumed it was impossible to collect flowers without the requisite skill, but the armful of loaches Tailyn had shown him had put paid to that idea. Perhaps, the boy would have found a way out if he’d left him there, but he wasn’t going to test that out. The city guards wouldn’t have understood.

 

Looking around the cave again and giving orders to pull Tailyn up, Forian Tarn, second-class investigator and level twenty-five mage, activated his vertical takeoff and flew up toward the hole leading out of the cave. Elass had definitely been a crystal fence, and his meeting with the city elder’s son could only mean one thing: they’d been trying to agree on a deal. The arcane dust was perfect for Dort’s designer skill. His father had presumably bought his beloved son the ability to make magic cards, though the question there was where he’d come up with the coins. Without them, he wouldn’t have been able to buy anything, and the arcane dust would have been useless.

 

A grin spread across Forian’s face. If everything went according to plan, not only would he ferret out illegal crystal trade; he’d also get his hands on a dirty elder. Bribe-takers had no place in the empire. There were enough of them at the academy as it was.

 

 

Chapter 3

 

 

WHEN THEY GOT to the spot where Dort had been killed, Tailyn found himself staring in surprise at a first aid tent. He shivered involuntarily—there was another man in a white mantle stepping out of it. Two academy mages in their town was unheard-of, something the townspeople would be gossiping about for years.

 

“How is he?” asked the mage who’d pulled Tailyn out of the hole.

 

“He’ll make it. In ten hours or so, he’ll wake up, and he’ll be back to normal in three days. He’s lucky we were in the city. The locals wouldn’t have been able to handle a broken neck, and his back was in bad shape, too.”

 

“There’s no such thing as luck. Everything that happens was foreordained by the god, so just the fact that we were here means that was its will. Can we move the kid? I can’t stick around here three days. Before we move on, we need to finish the mission.”

 

The god had already shown Forian what was next for him. He needed to figure out who was involved in the illegal crystal trade, and he couldn’t leave the city until the job was done.

 

Finally, it hit Tailyn that the mages were talking about Dort as though he was alive. But that was impossible—his neck had been broken. The crunch had been so loud, everyone in the general vicinity had to have heard it.

 

“I already sent a messenger for a wagon, so it should get here in about three hours. But who’s this?” The second mage nodded in Tailyn’s direction, and the boy wanted to melt into the ground. The subject of the mage’s intent gaze, he had the uncomfortable feeling he was completely transparent, all his innermost thoughts right there for anyone to see. And that wasn’t too far from the truth. The mage frowned.

 

“How has he only gone through the first initiation? And he has mana, too, plus, he’s an alchemist. Forian, what’s going on?”

 

“I’ll tell you in the city—there’s no time now. Although… You said the wagon will only be getting here in a few hours? Tailyn, come here.”

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