Path of Spirit (Disgardium Book #6): LitRPG Series, Dan Sugralinov [the reader ebook .TXT] 📗

the reality was different. Now every schoolchild knows that humans can’t have equal rights and privileges, because everyone wants the very best for themselves, and not everyone can have it. If one person lives in a palace, then everyone else wants the same, and how do you get that many palaces? Someone has to get the materials for them and build them. And if everyone was equal, then why did some have to work and others didn’t? When this all became obvious, citizenship categories were introduced. But more and more, I realized that this system too was far from fair. How was Liam any better than my dad? What value did Elizabeth’s nephew provide to humanity?

I also learned that at the start of the century, resources — in particular scientific ones — had been spent mostly on garbage. Science was financed by corporations, and scientists often studied not what was important for society as a whole, but what interested those who funded them. And they came to predictably biased conclusions. All this led to humanity running face-first and totally unprepared into the coronavirus pandemic…

I fit the time until World War III into three hours, even read almost all the information. It takes half as long to read as it does to listen to lectures. Video illustrations and infographics rounded off the picture, giving faces and colors to people and events.

Then the training started. Roj took me to the gym and made me run. Well, not exactly made me — he was still working for me, after all. Nonetheless, he declared in a commanding tone that a run would now be my daily morning ritual. He could dream; I’d be flying out to the Demonic Games the day after tomorrow.

After training, I ate again and then finally climbed into my capsule.

 

 

Chapter 27. Enemy Allies

THE OCEAN ROARED and the waves beat against the cliffs framing the beach. I woke up on the island where Rita and I had been. Conscious of all the work I had ahead of me, I decided to spend a few minutes going through my mail.

The first message was disconcerting, both in the name of its sender and its content:

Sender: Vista, level 9 human

 

Hey, Scyth!

 

Oops, or is it Alex? I don’t know what to call you. Remember me? I’m sure you do! You tore my dress, Crag stood up for me and the guards took you away! I just wanted to say that I’m not mad at you at all! I’m still in the sandbox, but it’s awful boring here. By the way, when we were hunting you… It was Crag’s fault, he made me do it!

 

Your girlfriend Tissa (she’s really up herself, by the way!) outright refused to help me when I asked her to put in a good word for me, so I thought I’d just write to you.

 

Can I join your clan? I promise you won’t regret it! ;-)

I had no idea how Vista’s message had gotten through the filters and reached me. Maybe because she was still in my enemies list? I didn’t answer her — just removed her from the list and deleted the message. It reminded me of Crag — that’s who I needed on Terrastera!

Another message had made it past the filters, from my childhood friend Kirk, thanks to a code word he used in the subject. I met Kirk and Aaron back in grade one, and the year before last he and his family moved to the Pacific Farms. Kirk had left the sandbox and wanted to meet, and he didn’t even mention that he knew about my status.

I answered that I’d love to see him. I really did miss Kirk. In our trio, which included me, Aaron ‘Robolover’ Quan and Kirk, he was the connecting link between all of us, not the most popular boys in the school, and everyone else. Then Kirk left, and Aaron… It got harder to talk to him after that incident with the sexbot. He distanced himself from me, realizing that our interests were diverging more and more each year. Aaron spent days on end in virtuality, conquering some fantasy Six Kingdoms or playing god in a premium mini-game, while I was more interested in terraforming Mars and Venus, visiting nearby stars.

There was nothing else of interest in my mailbox. Apart from a notice signed by the elvish king Eynyon, letting me know that I had been accepted for entry to the Demonic Games.

Not long ago, I subscribed to the Commonwealth Herald, spurred on by Bomber’s constant reminders that it was useful to read the news on occasion. I opened the paper version from my mailbox and started leafing through the latest edition.

The newspaper wrote that, as the publisher has learned, the undead now had a new leader: dark elf Eileen, who had declared the Lakharian Desert a domain of the undead and threatened punishment for anyone who ventures further than five miles south of Vermillion into the desert. Bad news.

I contacted Hinterleaf right away, fearing that Eileen had freed the other legates using Call of the Supreme Legate.

“What have you been doing all morning, Scyth?” the gnome chided me. “Eileen Waters has already held a press conference. Mogwai and the other legates can forget about her help. In Eileen’s words, it’s not in her interests to free the Elites, and she and Mogwai not only disagree, but ‘have fundamentally different views on the future of the faction.’ Do you know anything about that?”

“Maybe. What are her plans?”

“We don’t know. The analysts believe she’s going to level up solo. The girl has hit the jackpot and now plans to use it to the full, they say.”

“The Nucleus has probably given her a quest to turn the strongest sentients undead. It’s pointless looking for them among players, they can refuse. That means she’ll aim for top-tier