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come to a decision.

“I need to think about it. Scyth doesn’t trust Hiros, although he will let you add him to your friends list.” The ninja raised at an eyebrow at me as I unconsciously copied his manner of speaking. “If the answer is yes, then you’ll have to move somewhere else in real life.”

“Hiros agrees.”

I nodded. Before I left, I couldn’t help but ask:

“Why does Hiros speak about himself in the third person?”

“The man controlling the character does not associate himself with Hiros. The man’s name means nothing to Scyth. The man will reveal his real name if Scyth decides to give Hiros and the man protection.”

“Tell me honestly… Did you fail to kill me because you didn’t want to, or because you ran out of time?”

“Hiros never lies. Honesty above all. Hiros would have killed Scyth if he had the time. The reward exceeds the risk of the attempt.”

“Okay. I can’t say this was my favorite introduction, but… Pleased to meet you, Hiros.”

“Hiros is happy,” the ninja answered.

It was hard to say if he was sincere, because throughout the conversation, his face had remained stony. The only sign of emotion he had shown was a raised eyebrow.

 

 

Chapter 21. The Ninth Legate

CRITERROR REACHED the Modus castle within less than hour of my meeting with Hiros.

I was on Kharinza then, figuring out how the stationary portal installed by the haulers’ guild worked. The dwarfs had built a separate structure for it, taller than the Pig and Whistle tavern. At least, the old version of the tavern; the new one was several times the size of the old. They connected the portal to the guild’s global network, giving us access to practically all the cities of Latteria and Shad’Erung.

I thought for a moment, then restricted access to the portal to officers only. The workers could do without it for now. Foreseeing a chorus of complaints, I decided to hold back knowledge of this new travel until they relocated to Kharinza.

A message from Hinterleaf interrupted my study of the list of available portals: Criterror is already here. He’s breaking down our forcefield. Hurry!

As soon as I told him I was on the way, a notification pinged. A message from Yary. Hinterleaf’s right hand had sent me the reports from his scouts about the other legates of the Destroying Plague: one of them had reached populated lands and was approaching the castles of non-Alliance clans. Horvac had already reported that he had a blocking cell ready in the Travelers main castle.

We were well prepared, but events were unfolding too quickly. The earth was crumbling beneath our feet.

Crawler, Infect and Bomber jumped to me. I grouped up with them, then teleported us all to the Modus castle. Rubbing his forehead, a bandit hobbit got up from the floor; we’d knocked him over.

The castle grounds were so full of clan troops there wasn’t room to swing a cat. Apart from fighters, the place teemed with NPC guards and hundreds of mercenaries. The veil of a forcefield dome hummed above us, reflecting the undead attacks. I heard screaming and the clash of metal. On the southern fortress wall, the castle guards and a few battle stars of mages and archers fought, raining fire down on the besiegers.

“They’re here!” a shaman I didn’t know shouted, pointing at us. “The Awoken are here!”

“Yep, here we are…” Bomber muttered, gazing around in a stupor at all the famous top players. He couldn’t get used to the fact that our sworn enemies were now our allies. “Scyth, are you sure they aren’t going to tear us to pieces? I would have put my legendaries somewhere safe, just in case.”

“Me too,” Infect whispered, clutching his precious guitar to his chest.

Crawler just frowned and kept a careful eye out, preparing for the worst.

“And we couldn’t catch them? They’re just kids!” someone in the crowd shouted.

Laughter broke out. I summoned Sharkon. The Underground Terror dropped into the courtyard, his huge frame throwing mocking allies in all directions. Bones crunched, weapons snapped and groans of pain filled the courtyard. Bomber laughed evilly.

“Here we are, in the flesh!” he shouted defiantly. “I’ll challenge any of you to a duel! I’ll bet three legendary items against any epic!”

“Enough!” Hinterleaf boomed.

The tight rows of preventers parted, letting the Modus leader through to us. Yary and Sayan walked at either side of the gray-haired gnome, who looked serious, focused.

“Less bravado, kid,” Yary told Bomber. “You let the Threat give you a piggyback ride to the top. Big whoop. No need to brag about it.”

“We expected a friendlier welcome,” Bomber growled.

“We’re at war, warrior! This ain’t no Christmas party!” Yary barked, then bowed and said in tones of mocking formality: “Welcome! The Modus clan is overjoyed to greet the Awoken, clan of troublemakers. We’re overjoyed, aren’t we, men?”

“Oh, totally!” his troops answered discordantly. “Real happy!”

“Welcome, fearless warrior Bomber!” Yary shouted.

Laughter again. Bomb smiled embarrassedly.

“Greetings to the great bard Infect!”

“Bow before the magnificence of Crawler the mage!”

“Alright, alright, that’s enough! We get it!” the boys protested, grinning.

“Silence!” Hinterleaf erupted, raising his hand. He waited for everyone to shut up, then got straight down to business: “We have problems, Scyth. There are four of you, but five legates. I mean the ones who are already besieging castles. Laneiran, Cray, Angel, Criterror and Liam are taking down the castles of several non-alliance clans. We promised them protection. Each will pay us between three and six million. We have obscured, as it were, your intervention. We lay no claim to the money and will give it all to the Awoken.”

“Got a contract for you,” Yary said.

I turned to Crawler and he nodded:

“Send it to me, I’ll take a look,” he said. “I have authority to sign.”

“What do we know

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