City of the Undead (In the System Book #2): LitRPG Series Page 7

  After making sure that the guys weren’t having any problems with ‘conscription’, I looked back at the whitish sea. Strangely, I could hear no noise coming from it. No trumpets, no metal clanging, no horses neighing. Some of the players leaned over the wall, peering down.

  “If this was a horror movie, a tentacle would sweep out of the fog right now and drag these idiots down,” Dmitry muttered.

  I’d had a similar idea, but I was more concerned about arrows. Assuming the goblins couldn’t see us either, they still had thousands of archers. Even if they fired a volley blindly, they could easily reap a rich harvest. “Use the shields!” I shouted. “Those who don’t have them — stand behind your comrades. Remember about the archers!”

  What were the goblins planning? They could easily reach the moat under the cover of the fog, but go no further. Knowing that we were going to be besieged, we had immediately destroyed the bridge. The goblins needed to fill the moat before any assault was possible. Even then, the only route was through the gatehouse.

  “Watch the gates!” the Swordsman shouted, as if reading my thoughts. “If they fill up the moat, they’ll attack them next. Get a few people to observe from the inside!”

  “Bring some torches,” Qing Long joined in. “and cast them down! That way we’ll be able to see something!”

  The defenders stirred, shaking off their stupor, and began to act. Time passed, but the goblins didn’t show themselves. The torches pierced the murk for a moment, and then were lost in the white sea.

  “I think I saw a goblin!” someone shouted.

  “I saw one, too!” concurred another. “They’re definitely down there!”

  Well, I didn’t see anything. And despite working at the computer, I’d never had any problems with my eyesight.

  “Where are they?” someone called out. “They’re down there, right? Why aren’t they doing anything?”

  “Shut up, or we’ll let you down on a rope so you can see for yourself.” I shuddered when I realized that this could be done. Especially if someone invisible descended. I’d even managed to come up with some choice words to say to anyone who would suggest such a thing, but, fortunately, the idea didn’t go any further. Was I getting paranoid again?

  The fog lasted an hour. We stood on the walls for a whole hour, expecting the goblins to launch an assault at any second, but then the mist dissipated within a minute.

  “Son of a...” I muttered. Not a single goblin could be seen below. Had they left? Just left without firing a single arrow in our direction?

  Perhaps I should have felt happy, but I felt nothing of the sort. No doubt this was only the beginning. A demonstration, if you will. The goblins would return, and after everything I’d seen, I was no longer convinced that we could hold the fortress. Shit. Shit. Shit!

  Chapter 4. Deja Vu

  THE GOBLINS’ WITHDRAWAL made little difference in the long run. It would have been foolish to expect them to go far. They’d probably retreated to set up camp and prepare for the assault.

  Why had they come at all? Did they want to demonstrate their strength? An act of intimidation? I, for one, felt quite intimidated. If such a horde managed to break into the fortress, nothing would save us. But how did it help them? They didn’t honestly expect us to surrender out of fear?

  Were they pursuing other goals? Did they want to test the magic defenses of the fortress? Make us stand on the battlements and wait for the assault? That made more sense. Even if the fog hadn’t washed over the walls, its danger couldn’t be underestimated. Given its sound-absorbing abilities, the goblins could easily approach at any point and simply fill up the moat. They wouldn’t even have to work very hard, considering their numbers. If each one brought a bag of earth with them, the job was practically done. We wouldn’t even notice it from the walls... Besides, what was to stop them from raising this fog from time to time and further exhausting the defenders? Except for the limited powers of the shamans.

  “Attention! We need to fully secure the gates!” Qing Long shouted, one of the first to realize our main weakness. “Get the carts in there! Find some shovels! Bring stones and earth!”

  Yes, whatever their reasons, the goblins had gotten it wrong this time. They shouldn’t have shown their trump card ahead of time. Perhaps the fog could hide them, but the gatehouse was the only place where our enemies have a chance of breaking in. Even if they filled the moat in another location, how could they get over the walls? Unlike a battering ram, making enough long ladders for an assault was quite difficult. In addition, the shamans could try to remove the gates using magic. “They won’t get that chance now,” I muttered.

  Only twenty minutes after the fog disappeared, earthworks were in full swing in the fortress courtyard. We needed to completely block the entrance beneath the gate tower. First, several heavy carts were driven inside as a base. Shovels were found, and a pit began to rapidly grow in the corner of the courtyard, with a line of players carrying buckets to the gate. There’s no cure for a lack of imagination... “Use the bags!” I shouted. “Just empty out your personal belongings first!”

  * * *

  I tipped my bag over and an endless stream of dirt, rocks and debris poured out. At Level 2, the bag reduced the weight twentyfold. In other words, I could move six to eight hundred kilos of dirt and garbage at one time. Most players only had first-level bags, but even that was more than enough. At this rate, filling them was a bigger hassle than dragging them to their destination.

  “Phew,” the earth golem grunted, shrugging off four bags at once. “Looks like the fortress will soon have a second well.”

  Several players rushed to the dropped bags, then began to disperse, evenly spilling out their contents. The golem suddenly crumbled, revealing a human figure. I had to admit, Alexander’s ability was well suited for such earthworks, and for carrying heavy loads. The soil not only protected him, but also made him stronger. The downside of such an ability was the strict time limit. The ability was purely Systemic and, as I understood it, didn’t require any mana. It was a rarity.

  “A third well. As far as I know, there is a second one somewhere in the basement of the keep,” I corrected, slinging my empty bag over my shoulder. “We haven’t got much left to go at this rate.”

  “Then they can finish without us, right?”

  “Unless you want to work as a shovel,” I chuckled. “But yes, I think they can manage without us.”

  * * *

  “Well, I declare this meeting adjourned,” Qing Long said, leaning back wearily in his chair. The ‘Secretary’, one of his subordinates, put down his pen with relief. “Thank you everyone, you may go.”

  Finally. I was one of the first to leave the hall, descending into the courtyard to enjoy the cool air. It was the same thing every time. Discussions, endless discussions. Only five members of our G8 participated in the last meeting. Marcus lay in his room, recovering from the concussion. Sulu left the meeting at the very beginning, under the pretext of monitoring the situation outside. And the Brahmin didn’t show up for a very good reason, since, technically, he was dead.

  “What a joke.” I kicked a pebble, annoyed. “It’s all a joke.”

  We were left to take care of everything. It took a long time to address the key issues, even though we tried to avoid unnecessary disputes. Yet there were too many things to sort out at once. Managing such a fortress was a surprisingly complex process that we had to set up from scratch. Some things were obvious, while other issues cropped up along the way.

  Messengers kept running into the hall, reporting new problems and delivering notes. Looking at Qing Long, I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that he was an official in the real world. The Prince had a good grasp of bureaucracy, too.

  One question led to another. For example, you couldn’t just post sentries on the walls and assume we were safe. We had to decide on their number, location, time spent on sentry duty, and how to effectively rotate them. We didn’t have to solve everything ourselves, but we had to at least appoint a person responsible for each issue. We couldn’t simply hope it all worked out in the end. Eventually, Alexander also left the meeting with some excuse. He never came back.

  “Traitor,” I said and kicked the pebble again.

  That had been just one of many, many questions. Who will prepare and distribute the food? What’s the situation with the water? Who will control its use? Who will oversee the medics and the wounded? Whom should the newcomers report to? How do we raise an alarm? Where should we run in case of an attack? We had to draw up orders, disseminate them among the ‘personnel’, and make sure they were carried out. We had to establish punishments for certain offenses. These seemed like basic matters, but they had to be solved, and the fortress would plunge into chaos if we left everything to chance.

  A few things had changed after the arrival of the new wave of players. My squad had been a serious force when our G8 had first gathered, but now... there were less than ten of us. Practically a drop in the ocean. I kept my place in the Council more through personal strength than the size of my force. I suspected that the longer this game continued, the more important one’s level and personal might would be. This was a very significant difference from our previous world, where a leader’s influence directly depended on how many people stood behind them.

  In any case, the small squads no longer suited our new reality, so one of the issues raised was a new structure for the Alliance. We didn’t try to be clever. Eight squadrons based on the number of leaders. Then came captains, sergeants and, finally, the rank and file. We also agreed on some basic insignia. I felt that the others took this rather perfunctory matter way too seriously. As if they’d forgotten that we wouldn’t be here forever, that the survivors would return home in seven or e
ight days, and our Alliance would most likely fade into oblivion. It would be different next time. I didn’t bring this up, however.

  “It’s no use...” I kicked the pebble again, but it flew off somewhere.

  New orders, according to the old custom, were read out before a crowd, and then nailed to a so-called bulletin board. Given that the crowd hadn’t come to lynch us yet, we hadn’t overdone things.

  It was difficult to say what had truly caused my irritation. To some extent, everything kept repeating itself: new players arriving, explanations, recruitment, and power struggles. Only the scale changed slightly, and the methods.

  We found stocks of paper and ink, which allowed us to recount the players and update our lists. Veteran abilities presented the greatest interest, as well as the tags that indicated whether a player had obtained the necessary experience points for this mission. I’d already seen the list, and the vast majority of players had a dash in this column.

  “The Party’s plenary decision is to be enacted at once, as they say,” I joked, approaching one of the tables where the ‘recruiters’ sat. “How’s it going, captain?” I placed a scarlet armband on the table. Not so long ago, it had been a rather nice dressing gown.

  “Oh, are you finally done there?” Dmitry rubbed his eyes wearily and wrapped the armband over his sleeve. “I’m finished too, actually. All the newcomers have been enrolled somewhere. Another 76 players have signed up for our eighth squad. Mostly newbs, but there are a few veterans.”

  “Not bad,” I said, though I wouldn’t have minded fewer newcomers. Although more of a formality, I was now responsible for this crowd. The Alliance needed to somehow organize the newcomers and keep them under control. As a result, each player had to enroll in one of the seven squadrons. There were eight officially, but things weren’t going so well for the followers of Shiva, since the death of their priest. The faction existed only on paper. “What’s going on with the Fifth Hindu Unit, do you know?”

  “As far as I could tell, a lot of people signed up. Surprising, really. Probably more than any other squad. I have a copy somewhere — the Chinese guys did their best.” He fished out another piece of paper. “They even say that they have a calligrapher.”

  I nodded without going into details. The poor bastard had been saddled with keeping our meeting minutes. A considerable stress, given the local writing implements.

  “One hundred and eight new recruits,” I glanced through another list. “Europeans, Americans, Arabs... What a motley crew. Who would have thought that all these people love Shiva?”

  It was a joke. It seemed that a passing rumor had worked, luring all the potential troublemakers into this squad. They were attracted by the unit’s very weakness and purely formal leadership. If Qing Long hadn’t miscalculated and we were lucky, a new member of the Council would appear among them. After all, the number after the G could be increased, as well as reduced. If not, dealing with the ‘opposition’ would be easier if it was gathered in one place.

  “Well, this is our list,” Dmitry handed me another piece of paper. “Don’t you want to read it?”

  My head ached, but I didn’t want to refuse. I took the list and ran my eyes over it, pausing over a vaguely familiar nickname. Diva... Diva... Level 2. That’s right, the girl who had been caught by the goblins. Not the best acquisition, given the likely psychological trauma. I’d already heard about how the goblins treated human women.

  I went down the list and grimaced when I found several more names marked Hero. Rescuing prisoners was a noble task, but frankly, I had no idea what to do with this ballast. The Heroes were in an almost hopeless situation. They wouldn’t be able to hold the fortress once the players left. They could only hope for a miracle. For example, for one of the veterans to possess a skill that allowed them to bring an extra person back home. Even if such a miracle occurred, it would only be for a few people. Not much to go on, really. Who knew how the doomed players would behave at the end of the mission? However, they were unlikely to strike a deal with the goblins, and everything else wasn’t as dangerous. It would be enough to keep an eye on them.

  “The new recruits are being lodged on our floor, as agreed. Some in the cells, and some in the common room.”

  I hoped they liked it there. I remembered the rat I had seen on the table in the hall and felt sorry for it. “Okay, you can finish up here. I’m going to visit our prisoner.”

  When we had assigned responsibilities, I also took on the job of providing players with experience. Although the problem was less acute right now, it would inevitably come to the fore. I had to start looking for a solution as soon as possible.

  * * *

  I had chosen the third floor of one of the side buildings, where the riders had previously had their rooms. The hallway was narrow and easy to defend, there was access to the roof, as well as numerous separate cells. Perhaps the keep would have been more convenient, but to many people wanted it for themselves.

  Ilyas sat on a chair at the end of the corridor, defending our half of the floor from any encroaching newcomers. The easiest way to avoid problems was to tell everyone to piss off from the start. He leapt up at my approach, giving a military salute. Apparently, everyone was already aware of our ‘military reform’. He’s jerking me around, the bastard.

  “At ease,” I said. “How’s sentry duty, soldier?”

  “Boring, commander,” the Kazakh guy admitted, sitting back down. “But I prefer being bored to the goblins.”

  “You’re smart beyond your years, you’ll be a sergeant yet. Here’s your sash,” I handed him a whole bundle. “Pass them out among the others. Wear it on your arm, one per person.”

  “Happy to serve!” Ilyas barked. This, coming from an adult.

  Shaking my head in mock disapproval, I headed for the cell. All things considered, I had decided to keep the goblin close to me, so there was less chance of her being slaughtered.

  I unbolted the door, paused for a moment, then knocked loudly. Not so much out of politeness, but because the cell door locked from the inside as well as the outside. An additional security measure. Ultimately, the goblin girl had nowhere to run, but it was possible that other players would try to get inside the room.

  “P... password?” came a slightly startled voice from the other side of the door.

  “What frigging password?” I was surprised. “Open up, it’s me.”

  Judging by the sentry’s satisfied face, she hadn’t come up with the idea of a password by herself. He was very bored...

  “But the password...” the girl tried to object. I didn’t get a chance to find out the password since the goblin decided not to test my patience and opened the door.

  “His idea, huh?” I nodded behind me. Reb looked down. “What was the password, anyway?”

  “I don’t remember.” She looked even more dejected. “Something about a cupboard. But I would have recognized it at once if I heard it!”

  “Something classic, then.” Well, well, well. I was beginning to understand the reason for an army’s love of pointless work. I was becoming a real commander. Maybe.