City of the Undead (In the System Book #2): LitRPG Series Page 6

  I continued playing detective. So... The goblin had been robbing the corpses, obtained a System weapon, and realized that he could now get experience points. He began finishing off the wounded, but was interrupted. When the goblin ran into two players at once, he sensibly turned and ran back to the hole. Not that he’d any other option. The walls of the moat were too steep and high to climb, with the only gentle slope located near the bridge.

  “He wasn’t that bad at running.” He’d reached the hole, at least, but hadn’t have time to climb inside.

  “Well, maybe,” Cúchulainn shrugged. “but he still couldn’t fight.”

  He had tried, though. Considering that the wounds were on his chest and not his butt, he’d had the courage to turn around and face the humans. A hopeless confrontation, considering the lack of combat skills. That I could believe it, since skill cards didn’t fall out often, and most of them were empties. The goblin, for example, didn’t have any on him, even though he’d managed to kill three players.

  “Did he drop a card?” I asked.

  “Yes. It was garbage.” Cúchulainn pulled a face. Not all the goblins ‘gifted’ their killers with something useful. It didn’t make sense to learn some of the skills, and even an empty was considered better than such a card.

  “What was it?”

  The ‘Irishman’ waved an irritated hand and pulled a card out of his pocket.

  The Nightman skill card (78%)

  Class: F.

  Level: 1/3.

  Description:

  — Provides information about goblin waste treatment facilities.

  — ???

  Saturation:

  0/10 SP

  I looked at the hole again and swore, realizing that I’d found my answer. Apparently, this goblin had been in charge of waste management at the fortress. After all, a few hundred soldiers had to take a shit regularly, and the result had to be dealt with by someone. There was no river here, and the moat wasn’t bottomless. If not cleaned out regularly, the fortress would die out faster from an epidemic than from an undead invasion.

  “This is probably a sewer pipe,” I said and sniffed suspiciously. Nothing. Even if I was right, the sewer system hadn’t been used for its intended purpose in a long time. In contrast, the goblin himself stank quite a bit, although it was hard to say why. Not that corpses should smell like roses, anyhow.

  “Quite possibly. I’m definitely not climbing in there, in that case.”

  “There’s no need right now. How would you like to exchange your card for an empty? I’ll transfer one of my skills onto it, if you want.”

  For all its uselessness, the card could contain information about the structure of the fortress. At the very least, it could tell us where to look for the other sewer exits.

  “Even Invisibility?” Alf interjected.

  “I can try, but the higher the skill level, the lower the probability of success. The System promises only ten percent for Invisibility. Also, Wisdom is required to activate the skill.” I looked at the mage expectantly. “Are you sure you want me to try it?”

  “No, I’ll just save it for now.”

  I nodded, sliding the obtained card into my pocket. I wasn’t planning to learn this skill, but who said I should be more concerned about security than the other G8 members?

  * * *

  I immediately exchanged the “unique skill card that will provide us with information about the fortress’s supply lines” for three empties from the Alliance Treasury. It was a cheap deal, but what could I do? Generosity was practically my middle name. Now we had to decide who would have the ‘luck and honor’ of learning this skill. No one was keen to waste ten experience points on this skill, yet we needed the information.

  “Well, who will go first?” Qing Long smiled, brandishing the seven straws sticking out of his fist. Six long and one short one.

  Frankly, I never liked gambling. My Luck wasn’t the kind for rolling dice, but the situation wasn’t so hopeless in this instance. Not only Luck, but Intuition was also important. It was a matter of which one would be dominate.

  The Prince from Saudi Arabia drew the first straw, after somehow managing to reach Level 3 during the assault on the stronghold. Not surprisingly, it was a long one. Sulu went next, and the result was the same. While the first Alliance member threw out his straw, the African man used his to defiantly pick his teeth.

  Marcus went next, still looking pale, then Michigan. The fact that I had brought the card meant that I would be the last one to draw a straw. However, as one after another, the others pulled out long straws, my chances of avoiding the draw rapidly decreased.

  “Long one,” Alexander smiled, waving his straw. “Only two left. Who’s next?”

  I wasn’t even surprised to find it was my turn. Damn my Luck.

  “We can flip a coin if you want?” Qing Long suggested.

  There was no point. I could rely on my Intuition for straws, but Luck would obviously be more important when tossing a coin. Qing Long had a seven in Luck. I looked at the two straws, trying to choose, but for some reason, it felt like there was no difference. Was he planning to cheat or had I misunderstood the situation?

  I shook my head, and stretched out my right arm. Long straw. Really? Had I really ‘lost’?

  “Looks like I got lucky,” Qing Long smiled. He didn’t look the least bit disappointed. “Well, then, one of my people will take this skill... How about Liu Bai?”

  I noticed that Qing Long threw out the straw without showing it to the rest of us. Perhaps he’d planned to get the card from the start and force one of his ‘vassals’ to learn the skill. Drawing straws had been simply a performance. We could have all chipped in, each person adding an experience point to the card... Although, who was to say that the Chinese squad wouldn’t do the same?

  Ultimately, it made no difference. The important thing was that we were going to get on top of all the ‘rat holes’.

  * * *

  Separate barracks had been set up for the wounded, staffed by ‘doctors’ on duty, consisting of players with some knowledge of medicine or the appropriate skills. Although I also fit the bill, I limited myself to making copies of Earth Medicine for anyone who wanted it. Two people, to be precise, since experience was too valuable to waste on such a skill.

  Despite his wound, Nick chose to stay in the rooms occupied by our group. I understood the reason, since the hospital wasn’t a fun place to be.

  “Thank you,” he muttered when I gave him the arrow. “I... I won’t forget this.”

  Tears were streaming down his cheeks. Well, Nick may be a little weak, but his gratitude looked real. If he survived and our paths happened to cross again, I could really count on him — as long as things didn’t get too dangerous.

  “Get well soon,” I smiled and took the arrow back. The guy had received his experience points, and there were hardly any arrows left. “We still have a lot to do, but you can go home in two days. Sorry, I must go. The goblins are coming.”

  “I... I wanted to ask, whom should I choose as my patron? Inti?”

  I paused at the door. Only twenty-four hours had passed, and there’d been little time to talk about the future. The situation had now changed, and perhaps I needed to share the information about the soul stones — not only with members of my squad, but also with all the newcomers. Anonymously, if possible. There was no need for the gods to know that someone was putting a spoke in their wheels. “We’ll talk tonight once everyone’s here. I’ve got something to tell you.”

  * * *

  We were lucky for the goblins didn’t appear right away. Five hours passed before their scouts came into view. We’d managed to do a lot in that time.

  “Shouldn’t we have set up an ambush?” one of the newbs suggested. “Wait until they get closer and shower them with arrows. And stones!”

  I sighed, ignoring the lame-ass strategist. This wasn’t a computer game, and people looked nothing like goblins. The absence of wall sentries already
looked highly suspicious. Even if we’d placed corpses on the walls, hoping that the enemy wouldn’t notice the difference, there was still the matter of the escaped rider. I was sure he’d already reported that the fortress had changed owners. Not to mention the fact that we simply didn’t have enough decent archers to arrange a shootout. Yes, many of the players standing on the battlements were holding bows, but how many could shoot anything?

  I had spent two hours copying the Archery skill for those with an empty card, 10 available SP, and, most importantly, the desire to spend them on a skill that wasn’t the most useful. Why not? Certainly, the bow was perfect for protecting the walls, but one couldn’t get any experience without System arrows. We had nowhere to acquire them from — the only source was my Renewable Quiver. Goblins killed with ordinary weapons also didn’t drop any loot. So, despite the critical situation, many players preferred to save their experience points.

  Furthermore, Archery was a rare skill — we’d managed to find only two original cards. Hence, only three of us could perform this tedious work. The System seemed to care about copyright, and copied skills could not be recopied. I told people who wanted to obtain a copy of the skill ‘just in case’ to get lost.

  As soon as the news spread about the goblins’ arrival, a significant part of the ‘garrison’ gathered on the battlements.

  “You haven’t forgotten your promise, have you?” Lisa held out an empty. “I want to be an archer.” I locked eyes with her, then silently picked up the card and closed my eyes, concentrating on the copying. She was a big girl and could make her own decisions.

  The skill has been copied. Match percentage is 99%.

  It was an excellent result — I hadn’t tried my best for nothing. I usually produced 96-98%, and the longer I continued, the worse it got, due to the accumulating fatigue.

  “Here you go,” I handed the card back, and even added a couple of System arrows to it.

  Lisa took the card and closed her eyes, activating it. I grabbed her elbow when she swayed a little, making sure she didn’t fall off the wall. Wouldn’t that have been stupid.

  “Thanks.” Lisa put the faded card in her pocket, then turned and stepped forward to kiss me. I returned the kiss, but then let go of her, focusing on the goblins in the distance again.

  The scouts had disappeared, replaced by an endless river of goblins. What was ten thousand warriors, right? Some stadiums could fit more people, but the sight of a goblin horde coming to kill us couldn’t leave anyone indifferent. One of the newly minted archers fired an arrow, and it fell a good twenty meters short.

  “Ham-fisted moron.” I said to myself.

  I could have tried to fire the compound bow since one could be certain of hitting a target in such a crowd, but goblin arrows were unsuitable for it, and I didn’t want to waste System arrows. Anyway, I couldn’t drive our enemies away from these walls even if I’d fired gold bullets. Despite the joke, I didn’t feel any cheerier.

  I licked my lips. It was hard not to stress. We would soon discover whether our plan worked or if we had missed something. Ten thousand goblins against about a thousand players. There’d be more of us tomorrow, but these first few days were crucial. We’d win if we held out, but we’d all die if the goblins somehow managed to break into the fortress. Even I, if I had the courage to fight to the end. I could probably escape using Invisibility, but... I was one of the few who’d brought all these people here, and I had to take responsibility for my decisions. The choice wasn’t easy, since I didn’t want to die a meaningless death either. We had no option but to win.

  “The Horde and the Alliance,” Lisa said suddenly. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

  I chuckled at the irony. The goblins didn’t have battering rams or ladders, but they did line up against the gates. Regular rows of spearmen, archers and horsemen. The walls were easier to defend, but there were ten times as many goblins as humans. I felt Lisa leaning against my shoulder, and it helped me to appear outwardly calm.

  “Don’t worry, they don’t stand a chance,” I lied. “They don’t have any siege weapons, and even if they ‘whip up’ a battering ram, they’ll have to fill the moat first. If you’re going to use your bow, keep behind a shield-bearer.”

  I was right, but I knew there were things we hadn’t considered when we concocted our original plan. Magic. The goblins didn’t have many decent shamans left, but it was foolish to think there wouldn’t be any in a horde this size. According to Rebecca, there’d be at least a dozen.

  “They’re too far. Can you see their levels?” Dmitry asked, clutching a huge shield.

  “The ones I see have third level,” I lied again. More bad news. There were almost no low-level goblins in the force, and Level 3 was the lowest I could spot. Many had a significantly higher level. The highest I could see was Level 10. It wasn’t even a goblin, but a hobgoblin, a creature that stood on the same level as a human.

  The war trumpets blared and the goblins in the distance shouted belligerently, rattling their weapons. A fog suddenly arose, obscuring their ranks and then shifting toward the walls.

  “Fog!” someone shouted the obvious. “It’s a magical mist!”

  “What if it’s poisonous?” someone else suggested. “Is it me or does it look kind of yellow?”

  “Then stop looking!” I snapped. “Nobody panic, it’s only fog! You saw how it passed through the goblin ranks and didn’t harm them.” Was I sure of what I was saying? It was fifty-fifty, as things were happening too fast. I stared at the rapidly spreading wall of white with a strange fatalism. We were all doomed if the fog was poisonous, since we couldn’t escape from it. Running downstairs was equally pointless for the gas was creeping along the ground, but hadn’t yet reached the top of the walls. We just had to wait and hope.

  Should I activate the Calculating Mind? No. I didn’t want to die thinking about what was rational and irrational. Plus, I didn’t believe in my own death. Despite everything, I didn’t believe in it.

  “O Y, the great and evergreen, bless us with your protection. Grant us luck. Grant us victory.” I muttered to myself and snorted. Madness. To beg the goblin god for protection from the same goblins... A dead god, moreover. And why was he green when the goblins were black?

  Some of the players lost their nerve and ran along the wall or down the stairs. One deserter was pushed, stumbled, and fell screaming down into the courtyard.

  “Stand fast!” Sulu shouted, punching one of the fugitives in the jaw. “Anyone who runs will be punished!”

  There are was no real reason for it, simply an attempt to prevent the panic from spreading. If the gas wasn’t poisonous, the goblins were unlikely to attack, and if I was wrong, the fugitives would simply be the last to die. If my memory served me correctly, chemical warfare agents were divided into those lighter than air and those that were heavier. You could hide from the first in depressions in the ground, and by climbing to a high point from the second. Chlorine, for example, would quickly fill all the cellars, and, as far as I could tell, this fog was very reluctant to rise. I thought of the wounded who remained in the hospital, but I didn’t say anything. It was too late, anyway.

  All these minor details didn’t really matter, but they kept me distracted from what was in front of us. I put my arm around Lisa’s shoulders, trying to inspire a confidence I didn’t feel.

  The fog reached the walls and suddenly stopped, unable to move forward or rise upwards. Its crest wavered just below the battlements, unable to wash over them... I glanced at the courtyard, expecting to see the fog seeping in through the loopholes and crevices, but there was no sign of it.

  “The fog has stopped!” someone shouted.

  “There are amulets embedded in the walls!” I responded. “Their magic protects us!”

  Reb had mentioned this during our short conversation, but more as a legend. There had been no attempts to storm the fortress walls using magic in her lifetime.

  The fog enclosed the fortress on three sides,
and stopped. This was only the beginning. Even if the mist hadn’t destroyed us, there were still thousands of goblins hiding in it.

  “Prepare to defend the walls!” Qing Long yelled. “This could be a trap. Send additional sentries to the other walls!”

  Our organization’s shortcomings immediately became apparent. As often happens when an order is issued into empty air, volunteers had to be forcibly appointed. “Sahel, Ilyas,” I ordered. “Long is right. Take the newcomers and cover the back.” If this was a simple fog, the goblins could be drawing away our attention to strike from the other side.