Chapter 4: Nasty Goblin

I woke up, still in pain. I will not say that my condition has improved, but now at least I did not want to give anything for the sake of immediate death. These Deities! They dared to disfigure me, tear off a part of my soul. I hate it !

“Blame yourself for this.” Being's voice was heard. “If you had not confessed to the murder, you would have recognized this death as an accident. And because everything is so perfect. You did not give the order to the person who caused the death of the figure. And the rules do not restrict ordinary people to make their decisions. And after everything was done, you yourself signed the sentence, sacrificing the figure.”

Hate in my mind mingled with irritation. If we talk about the court, I did not confess to the murder. It was an unauthorized attempt to use gaming ability. But it was for the Judge to get his victim and put me as the scapegoat.

“Yes you are right.” Agreed Being. "But you yourself fell into this trap. However, let's forget about it. You helped me a lot in this game. Again! But this time it was almost fair, and I hit the jackpot. People, or rather vritras as their heirs, won this war. Oh, oh, oh, would you see what they did. They turned off the birth control mechanism and in just a hundred years settled the entire galaxy. They did not just destroy the other races. They swallowed their worlds! Imagine - an endless ocean twenty kilometers deep, consisting entirely of bodies vritras. These creatures lost their human form, almost lost their mind, but still continued to fuck and multiply. Two hundred years later, they were the only form of life in the galaxy.”

“It was difficult to expect something else.” I squeezed out, overcoming pain.

“So you did it on purpose?” Enthusiasm in the voice of the Being was replaced by insidious interest.

“Of course not. I had my goals. Simply, humans ... are simple humans. Pathetic creatures, whose senseless existence is directed only to meet the needs of animal instincts. Pathetic, but cunning and clever, though dull as earthworms. They do not want to recognize the need for self-control. Therefore, as soon as they are freed from the shackles of the law, they immediately turn into ruthless all-devouring creatures. So the ending described by you is quite natural.”

“OU! You are such a philosopher. One of the few philosophers who has retained a sound view of the world. Yes, you are right. Vritras turned into an all consuming monster. Imagine, in the end, when they set their sights on conquering other galaxies, we compelled to destroy the whole galaxy. Literally, evaporate it completely, and then throw them into a black hole along with all these crazy souls. Oh, oh, what a spectacle.”

Judging by the transmitted emotions, the Being was in real ecstasy and a clear degree of drinking. It seems that with this game it has pulled a lot of its kindred.

“But let's get back to you. According to the decision of the Judge, you must be embodied in his world. I even picked up a suitable body for you there - an old sick goblin shaman, who has only a couple of months left to live. So you will quickly be tormented, and go free with a clear conscience.”

I did not have time to protest, I lost consciousness again. I woke up already wrapping myself in some kind of rag lying on a steadfast stone surface.

“What are the rules?” I thought, sending a thought into space.

“No rules.” There was a whisper of the Being. Blow up whole world if you want.”

There was a fading manic laughter, and again I was left alone with the harsh reality. Everything hurt me. The puny body ached, torn apart by coughing, the overworked magic core ached, and most importantly, the soul ached, in which gaped non-healing wounds. I felt that the patches installed by the Creature were a temporary solution. I need Bahion to heal my injuries. And for me, no one was going to spend this value.

Then another cold and indifferent voice penetrated my consciousness. Judge! My mind shook with overwhelming hatred.

“If you want to return your energy centers, then I can give them in exchange for three Points each.”

“And you can heal my soul and return everything as it was?” With a mixture of hatred, contempt and ridicule, I squeezed back.

“ ... Five souls for each tail.” The judge issued after a short pause. "And I will heal your wounds."

“Good. You will get your victims.” I agreed. “Only then do not complain. Being told me that in this world there are no rules in the game.”

“Yes it is.” In the hushed voice of the Judge, there were notes of gloating. “I hope you prove your usefulness.”

The alien presence in the mind disappeared again, and I stretched weakly on a hard surface, trying to take on at least some comfortable position in which my bones would not try to pierce the skin.

Here is the Being! Want to move coal with my hands? No matter how, I can be find way to solve problem with you.

“Not one of you will eat the earth. All die without forgiveness. To forgive sins is for me to decide. I'm a scapegoat.” The lines from the song of Vysotsky themselves surfaced in consciousness, turning into a curse addressed to "higher forces."

Finally, I found the strength to open my eyes, rise from the bed and look around. I was in a spacious cave with bright sunlight pouring into the narrow entrance. Somehow collecting limbs in a heap, I wandered to the exit, for one looking around the room. Goof and poverty. That's what I saw before me. The body I got was on my last legs. Clothes on me were tatters of unknown origin. And the most valuable thing in the cave looked like a stone - a large piece of hematite that plays the role of the table.

I went outside and surveyed the environs of Lake Onega. Well, maybe not Onega, but some lake was present here. I stood on the side of a mountain, and forests, swamps and a lake spread out in front. Somewhere on the horizon, mountains were still visible, stretching as far as the eye could see.

Neighborhoods were also not disfigured by a raid of civilization. Some gray-green humanoid appearance wandered here and there, doing their own goblinoid affairs.

“Great shaman, are you feel better, and you decided to honor us with your attention?” A haggard kid addressed me, rubbing something in a mortar, sitting near the cave entrance.

My student Bonehead. It looks like I got some part of the donor's memory. And the last time I could not even remember my name. By the way, what is my name here?

“Kolchenog, what did you get out of your hole?” A shriveled old lady with a long nose addressed me. “Really decided the last time to look at the sun before dying?”

“Do not wait, old hag.” I waved away.

Well, the names here. Interestingly, was she called Kargoy in her childhood? Memory refused to give an answer to this question. A few seconds later, I remembered that the old woman looked like a dried apple back in the days when I walked under the table - thirty winters ago. Yeah, the harsh life of goblins. Thirty years - and you are a very old man.

“And nothing I am not old.” objected grandmother. “I'm still full of juice.” In her voice came lustful notes.

“Say it to Bonehead. Maybe he will fell into your charms.”

Indicated, Bonehead squeezed his eyes in horror and began to crawl softly to the cave. Grandma burst out laughing, watching the increasing panic of her future lover.

“Ha ha ha. At all you are not care about your student.”

“Why take care of it? He has the seventh winter on the nose. If you do not find a wife before the first snow, I will compel to give him to you.”

Bonehead rushed off, shouting while running

“Uncle Lopear, Uncle Lopear, give me your daughter as a wife!”

The whole village stopped its activities and began to stare at unexpected entertainment.

“Oh-ho-ho-ho. You will drive me to the tomb. I haven't laughed like that for a long time.” Hag shed tears.

We fell silent and silently watched the matchmaking. Bonehead was a shaman's student and an enviable bridegroom, but Lopear was known as the strongest warrior of the tribe after the leader and wanted to barter his only daughter for a weapon for his eight sons. A blacksmith from a neighboring village did not go to such an exchange, agreeing no more than two rusty knives.

I was distracted from the passions of local importance and thought about my fate. I lost the sources of the magic of spiders and chakras. But at the same time, I still had the structure of Vritras, which had spider magic in itself. This body also possessed magic, but it was kind of strange. And most importantly, this magic was barely enough to feed the spirits that the previous owner of this body called for. Shamanism cannot be called energetically disadvantageous for any of the parties. Spirits so finely weave lace exposure, that the energy they have on it takes even less than that of the most gifted spider.

It remains only to think how to become stronger. I looked around and sat down on a bench specially installed in a sunny place. The sun shone through the cold autumn air, and the old body tried to just sit and enjoy the last days.

Well no! Stay calm and carry on. I must achieve immortality and return what was stolen. I folded my hands in a gesture of concentration of the chakra and sent crumbs of magical energy through the body, trying to clear my mind.

On the idea of gaining power, the memory of the shaman gave information about the ancient ritual of awakening the magic of dragons. At the cost of his life, the magician could translate the magic core into the afterburner mode, acquiring for a few minutes great power. The energy flowing through the organism was much cleaner and stronger than the swamp fluid used by the magicians of this world. And as soon as time was running out, the magician burned in a magical flame, leaving anything behind even ash.

The ritual was not so difficult. But not every magician decided to hold it. As a rule, they resorted to him only to save the life of the whole tribe, when any other way of salvation was impossible. Rumors said that even a month after the ritual in this place, there were emanations of pain that the magician experienced in the last seconds of life. The lucky ones managed to kill themselves before the power went out of control. I think I will have only one chance. This should be enough to create a crystal with a soul trap.

I started doing mathematical calculations, but soon I came to the conclusion that even after amplification, my strength would not be enough to create Vritras. At least not enough to create a full version. But you can try to do the simplest, just providing access to normal magic. And then the container can be changed to a full one. I just had to think of a way to create the necessary spiritual envelopes. They demanded most of the energy for their creation.

There was only one way left - sacrifice, the bloody and painful death of the gifted, whose spiritual shells I will use as a temporary solution. It is like wrapping up in a shroud of leather that has just been torn from a person's body. Disgusting decision. But what can you do for the integrity of your soul?

Lost in thought, I did not notice how the sun was leaning towards the sunset, and the cold launched its tentacles under the rags. I had to get up and move my skinny butt to the fire inside the cave, around which happy Bonehead was already bustling around. It seems that Lopear gave his consent, although, knowing him, we can say that the price was considerable.

I did not ask my nominal disciple, but in fact a new shaman of the tribe about his affairs. For me, these goblins are nobody. Only because of the emotions and memory of this body, I don't think about how to sacrifice them all. It is worth focusing on your problems, or you can't see my tails as your ears. I squinted at my ear, covering my right shoulder like a cape, sighed and concentrated on thinking about a plan.

Three days later at noon, I left the cave and went to the chief of the tribe. Fatbel rules this village for the eighth year, which made him quite experienced by the standards of goblins. He met me on the threshold of the house and silently led inside, showing respect.

“What brought you, Kolchenog, to my house?” He asked after we both drank a cup of herbal broth with honey.

“Leader, my death is not far off. It stands behind my shoulder and waits until I take my last breath.” The leader looked at my shoulder and superstitiously averted his eyes to the side. “Before I die, I would like to help the village for the last time. The tribe of marsh goblins have long been sharpening a tooth on us. And as soon as they learn about my death, then that day they will go to war with us.”

I fell silent, sipping the second cup of drink. Judging by the memories of Kolchenog, it was the second time in the last ten years, when he drank a drink with honey.

“The tribe is not ready for war.” objected darkened Fatbel.

“I know.” According to I nodded, pouring myself a third cup of tea. I decided to go all in. “Therefore, there will be no war. I want to wake up my dragon heart and kill the chief marsh shaman in a one-on-one duel.”

This time the leader really started and turned gray. About the magic of dragons among simple goblins scary stories. He filled my cup for the fourth time, pouring out the remnants of the "drink of the gods."

"You don't need to do this."

“I know.” The old and wise shaman agreed in my face. “This is my own choice. I want to die in a duel, saving a tribe, and not in a stinking hole, shaking from the cold. Let a song about how I died as hero, not how I clung to life, be laid down about me, and the sun of the tribe set with me.”

The leader nodded grimly. The desire for fame was not uncommon even among the goblins. But my act would be recognized as heroic even by the worst enemies.

“What do you suggest?”

The drink was over, and with a sigh I set the empty cup on the table.

“In a week, the Smellybelly will begin to offer sacrifices to its marsh god. On the second day, only a small forces will remain to guard him. I will prepare a ritual site in the near forest, and then I will lure this half-educated shaman there.”

“After the sacrifice, he will be at the peak of his strength.” countered the leader.

"And that's why he decides not to run away, but to attack me. I will awake the dragon magic in my body and sacrifice it to the spirits. You will only have to not let the enemy soldiers stop me. If something goes wrong ... leave.”

Fatbel thought about my plan for a long time, but finally agreed. For him and for the whole tribe, this was the best way out of the possible. Even if the attempt fails, it will make it clear to all enemies in the area that the mountain goblin tribe can give such a punish that even victory will turn into defeat.

After the group of the best hunters advanced to explore the swamps, I began to embody the second part of the plan. I needed to create a receptacle for my soul - a two-by-three ruby. I knew how to make it with magic, but my strength was not even enough for it.

I had to resort to ritual magic, which I had not used since the construction of the ziggurat on the planet of demons. A ritual-artifact circle with the desired spell scheme took its place in the darkest corner of the cave. I strictly forbade my disciple to even approach there. My calculations were correct, and the crystal grew in full accordance with the program. After it is ready, all that remains is to cast a spell on him, to nourish with the energies of the sacrifice, and it will be possible to move into a new body.

On the appointed day, I went to the leader in the morning, where we once again discussed in detail the plan for the operation. Intelligence reported that the events at the swamps were going in strict accordance with the traditions, so that at least one could not worry about this part of the plan.

At noon I returned to the cave and went to pick up the crystal from the circle. It was only on the spot that I discovered a broken ritual circle and the complete absence of an essential element of my plan. Hate flooded my mind, and I headed for the exit, spreading waves of horror. Damned son-of-bitch took away a part of my soul, and now even some creature prevents me even to return the lost.

I went to the main hall of the cave, and Bonehead rushed to meet me with eyes wide with horror.

“Where is it?” I hissed, piercing with index finger into his shoulder.

“What is the teacher?” he hissed in response to the pain shaking his body.

“The gem that you stole from the circle.”

“I did not steal anything, teacher.”

“Then who could pass around you here?”

At the same time, we turned our heads and stared at the new cave dweller — the wife of my student. I pulled my finger out of the flesh and out of the corner of my eye noticed how the edges of the wound had charred. Bonehead himself rushed forward and with a running start drove the thief with his fist straight into the face. She flew back a couple of steps and screamed, after which the young shaman began to beat her. Finally, the cries were replaced by mournful hissles, and the disappearance was immediately found.

Bonehead brought me a stone, which I literally plucked from his hands. After reviewing the offering, I almost howled in annoyance. This bitch did not just steal it, she tried to drill a hole in it to hang around her neck as an ornament. She did not achieve much success, but she was able to cut off the edges of a pair of magical symbols.

"You nasty whore," I cried, coming into uncontrollable rage, "your children will be covered with scales and feathers in your belly, and you will give birth to them against scales."

A drop of power fell from my hand that I had been saving all week, and was transformed into a ritual curse sealing into her body. Now, any goblin mage can’t dispel it. I squeezed the stone in my hand and headed for the exit. But after three steps I stopped and turned around to the slutty bitch, who had not even thought of feeling guilty.

“And this is for you for trying to steal tribe shaman’s thing.”

Another spell slipped from my hand. It was a legacy of spiders who knew a lot about torture. An inhuman screech screwed into my ears, giving peace in my heart. The cries accompanied me all the way to the leader's hut, from where I had gone out just ten minutes ago.

“What happened?” Fatbel rushed to meet me.

"This female of the woodlouse stole and damaged the amulet I was going to use in battle.”

“That is ... everything will cancel?” The goblin turned very gray, unconsciously clutching his heart. It looks like he has some problems with it. But this is not my business.

“No. We will perform tomorrow. I will borrow the sanctuary of the spirits and try to restore the amulet. Give orders. Let them bring me food, and no one dares to go to the sanctuary until tomorrow evening.”

Without asking if he understood me, I walked out of the shack and wandered to the sanctuary, pleasing my ear with the cries of a thief who stood in my way. Finally, my student guessed to stun the bitch with a spell, and the concert, at the request of the listeners, stopped.

The sanctuary was something of a local temple. Only if the shaman's workplace was at the same time his dwelling, then the sanctuary was a "sacred" place that could not be defiled by daily worries. I didn't care much about these superstitions, especially how many of these concerns do I have left? I was more interested in the magic concentrated here, which I was going to use to restore the stone. Let the goblins then thank this bitch for the fact that their temple no longer attracts spirits.

I spent the night and the whole next day without sleep. I managed to create a simplified ritual circle and restore the damage, but the violations in the structure of the crystal remained, and I could only hope that they would not be fatal.

In the evening I had lunch, and allowed myself a nap for a couple of hours. But as soon as I woke up, I realized that night vigils with the tension of the magic core at my age do not pass for nothing. The body entered the last peak and confidently moved towards death. Hurry up.

A squad of the best soldiers of the village went to the sanctuary at sunset. I examined my escorts and was relieved to see that Lopear was not among them. Apparently, the leader himself guessed that father, who thirsts for revenge, does not need me in the team.

“Kolchenog, something you look pale.” Worried Fatbel.

“Thank for this brainless bitch and shaman-sucker.” I spat. “ Come on, time is precious.”

We ran through the evening forest, but after three hundred meters I fell to the ground with a bag of shit. When a goblin stops wearing his legs, his days become numbered. In this world, even the famous proverb sounded like "goblin legs are fed."

"Fatbel, I am ashamed to say this, but some of you will have to carry me. Or I will have time to get to the marshes only after the first frosts.”

The leader silently gave a sign, and one of the tallest goblins caught me and threw me on his shoulders. The run continued, and this time we moved much faster. By midnight the detachment was in place. While the scouts went to find out the state of affairs in the camp of the enemy, I began to draw another ritual circle. God, what have I come to? Using these crutches to use the simplest spell.

Our plan was pretty simple. Now the marsh goblin shaman named Smellybelly finished the sacrifice of one of his relatives. Knowing the tastes of this generation of slugs, one could be sure that it was a young goblin that he continuously raped the last few days. The more the victim suffered and enjoyed before she died, the more she was worth in the peculiar market of draft spirits. Now the shaman paid for the deal, and then for a year the spirit served the tribe.

This sacrifice was the third in a row, which means that on the side of the shaman there will be two full strengths of spirit. The first sacrifice was guarded by an additional detachment, and then the shaman should have had enough strength to protect himself. There was no need to remain an extra day in the camp, swarming with evil spirits. I was planning to attack the shaman yesterday, but this bitch! ... I suppressed anger and focused on doing the work.

At the moment of greatest stress, I was going to stop the sacrifice, multiplying to zero the efforts of the shaman over the past few days. The last spirit was supposed to be the strongest. The previous two sacrifices were only a way to attract the most powerful beasts from the world of evil spirits. If I interrupt the ritual, it will be a real spit in the face of this shaman. Of course, the ritual can be repeated, but the tribe may not understand. And so every year they are forced to give the three best young men or women for the sake of satisfying the bloodthirsty spirits.

So you can be sure that the shaman will not tolerate this, and will try to take revenge in order to present my head as an explanation of the reasons for his failure. Now he is at the peak of his power, and even if the whole tribe came here, we could not be sure that we could kill him.

But everything changed by the fact that I was going to awaken the dragon heart in me. For a few minutes my strength will increase so that I can twist the ram's horn of an enemy shaman and all his spirits. It is only necessary to correctly guess the time and prepare the battlefield.

I straightened my aching back and examined the results of my labors - a huge ritual circle almost twenty meters in diameter. This direction of magic was unknown to goblins, so the shaman is unlikely to suspect anything. This place was the only place to get to the "runaway" me, unless the shaman was going to go swimming in the bottomless swamp. And as soon as he enters the boundaries of the circle, I will activate a barrier that will be able to keep the magician and his tame spirits. After this, it will be necessary only slowly to activate the magic core in the afterburner mode and use all the preparations for turning into vritras. A simple defensive circuit will protect me from the arrows, and the soldiers of the tribe will cover me from the attack by hand-to-hand.

I moved to the desired distance, drew another circle with a protective contour, and then focused on the world of spirits. The returning scouts confirmed that everything was going according to plan, and I closed my eyes, plunging into a trance.

A round dance of spirits circled around a dying victim. The girl has long been desperate to escape. She prayed for death, prayed for someone to quickly eat her and give peace, but the body continued to live, fueled by the magic of the shaman.

And here, the dance of youngsters sprinkled to the sides, avoiding a huge creature that "emerged" from the depths of the world of spirits. As an experienced fisherman, Smellybelly made the victim tremble on the verge of death, luring him closer for whom the whole performance was being started. The spirit was good. Strong, malicious, reasonable enough to be able to execute an order, but not tricky enough to be able to reach the victim bypassing the treaty trap. The otherworldly creature was still in doubt, turning circles, but with every second its hunger became inflamed more and more, forcing it to lose caution.

And here, the spiritual world pierced the harsh sound of a broken string. The space split into pieces, and in one of the fragments a called spirit, and in the other the victim finally broke free from the shackles of flesh, after which it was torn apart by a whole gang of younger spirits. Weak and evil, they knew nothing in their lives except the feeling of overwhelming hunger. And even the presence of powerful spirit did not stop them. After all, they have seen that right now powerful spirit is unable to harm them. And then it will be later. As they say, ‘they can’t catch up’.

A flock of well-fed spirits flitted in different directions, and my mocking laughter swept through the world of spirits. The great spirit irritatedly send the wave of energy to the shaman who had "deceived" it and disappeared into the unimaginable depths of a multidimensional space. The fierce cry of Smellybelly was a real delight to my ears. And the curious middle spirits with joy picked up my laughter, spreading the news of the next failure of the stupid mortal.

“Kolchenog !” There was a response cry, filled with rage and anger, and flavored with a bit of powerlessness and pain. "I'll find you and shatter your guts, I will sacrifice you to Dagon.”

In response, my scornful laughter rang out, followed by the hubbub of the voices of spirits. It was not worth Belly mention this name, and even more screaming it to the whole world of spirits. Now the weak spirits will be afraid to come to his call, and the strong stirits will first of all ask if he fulfilled his promise. The enemy shaman understood this, and therefore abruptly returned to his body in order to find me in the material world. If he does not fulfill his threat, he will in fact cease to be a shaman.

Be in my place the real Kolchenog, he would not hesitate to cut his throat and leave the enemy with nothing. But I didn't need a victory in a magical duel, not the safety of my tribe, and not even glory with honors. I needed a sacrifice with a "fleshy" spiritual body that I could use in my ritual. Therefore, I remained standing still, shifting most of my attention into the material world, but continuing to observe the situation in the spiritual world.

The victim appeared within sight within ten minutes. The waning moon gave enough light for the goblin's vision to distinguish the world around it. Seeing me, confidently standing in front, Smellybelly became alert. But he had no choice. Either he sacrifices me to Dagon, or he can cut his throat right here without bothering with attempts to explain something to the leader of the tribe.

“Kolchenog, I will destroy your village.” shouted the shaman, making his way forward and carefully inspecting the land in front of him for traps. My attendants hid in the bushes, exposing me as easy prey. But the warriors who sneak after the shaman were in no hurry to attack me. Shamans battle are not for mere mortals. The attack of a simple warrior could cause the wrath of spirits and bring trouble to the whole village. Now, if there were no Emptybelly, then events would have taken a different turn.

“And how are you going to do this? You are no longer a shaman.” I laughed. Enemy warriors exchanged glances and approached a little more, almost resting on a small isthmus connecting two islands surrounded by impassable swamp. Only knowledge of secret paths and the help of spirits could help goblins out of this place into the forest.

“My power over the spirits is stronger than ever.” My opponent objected, manifesting two tame spirits in the material world. This trick did not frighten me at all, but ordinary warriors darted to the sides.

“We both know that it is not. Come on, attack me. Or are you so powerless that you send soldiers to kill a half-dead old man, hiding behind their backs?”

Judging by the gritted teeth, this is exactly what Belly was going to do. But the battle of the shamans had to follow a certain code that too many knew. If he shows weakness, then his own warriors will kill him. The shaman had power over his fellow tribesmen, only while instilled in them fear. Once he admitted that he had lost power over the other world, he would turn into a pariah. No tribe will accept a goblin in its ranks, from which spirits have turned away.

“I'll cut your guts.” shouted the shaman, taking a step forward.

“I already heard that. In the world of the dead, where your spirits left you.” The more I pressed on the mistake made by the Smelly Belly, the more angry he became. “Come on, call them. Create at least a marsh light.”

I laughed scornfully with that scornful laugh that he had already heard not so long ago. This was the last straw, and with a fierce cry, the shaman rushed forward without hesitation, waving a knife. As soon as he got inside the circle, I activated the trap, and the goblin fell to the ground, devoid of magical energy, which began to flow to me. Now I need any crumbs.

The warriors saw the shaman fall and rushed forward, but were discarded by a protective field installed around the perimeter of the circle. Several losers even fell into the water, barely getting out of the quagmire that was dragging them down. A dozen of the weakest spirits of water called by me made this part of the swamp impassable.

Once again I checked the state of the trap and began the ritual of awakening the magic core. The warriors threw a pair of knives, but they were rejected by the defense. I was already mentally celebrating the victory, when more than a hundred warriors seemed to come out of the forest, accompanied by the younger shaman of the tribe.

“What a luck.” I heard the voice of the disciple of the shaman, who had long since entered a mature age. "Now I will kill both of you, and next year we will destroy your tribe. This your sucker can not stop me.”

I, perhaps, agreed with the assessment of the abilities of my student. He was more a magician and herbalist than a shaman. However, I was more interested in the events taking place here and now. The reinforcements huddled on the opposite side, but they did not tear forward. While this was the confrontation of the shamans, simple warriors did not dare to intervene. They suspected that I was not alone, but until it was known for sure, the fear of spirits kept them in place.

"Are you so sure you can survive this year?" I laughed, continuing the awakening of the core. “Without the help of your rotten god, you will become easy prey. And we will not hesitate to tell about your weakness to the trolls of the northern ridge.”

Warriors bothered hubbub. Shamans are shamans, but if someone finds out about what happened, the whole tribe will die. It's not up to the observance of the "moral norms" of goblin society.

“Quiet!” Interrupted the emergence of panic student of the shaman. “I will take away for myself two spirits that my teacher has called. This, of course, is not three spirits, but they are quite enough to last a year. And in the spring we can spend another sacrifice, buying slaves from the same trolls.”

With his speeches, the student played into my hands. I have almost entered the desired state. Another minute, and I will spread these mortals into bloody mince. The hubbub died down, and the warriors stared with interest at the two of us. In the end, when else will happen to witness the battle of the shamans? In the usual battle somehow not up to it. My opponent stepped forward and, with a thoughtful look, tapped his staff on the force field.

“It is Magic. So you don't want to use spirits. Or you can not.”

The assumption was true. I was not familiar with the spirits that the donor of my body had been feeding my whole life. For them, I was no more attractive than a stranger with traces of the owner's smell for dogs.

The shaman waved his hands, and a whole pack of spirits rushed from him to me. To his misfortune, the goblin's intelligence was not enough to understand the essence of the trap in front of him. The power shield did not hold the spirits for a moment. But as soon as they got inside the circle, the spell drank all magic power of them, sending the entire pack back to the other world, and even angered them at their master for such a setup. The furious cry of the shaman pleased my hearing. Not further, as his teacher shouted a couple of minutes ago.

In the meantime, my core got rickety, and, through the pain, I still felt like a magician. As it turned out, I did not have enough. Two spells fell from my hands. One paralyzed the goblins in front of me, and the second pulled the immobile shaman's student inside the circle. As they say, much is not few - we'll throw out the excess.

Time was running out, so I immediately activated the ritual of creating a trap for souls. The spell was already embedded in the stone, and now it is unfolded and filled with energy, entering the working state. Here, the silence of the night broke many screams. Alas, this time the attackers went to our rear, so that the soldiers of my tribe had to fight, fulfilling their part of the agreement. Yes, and they had no other choice. The enemies came along the path that they were going to use for retreat.

While the whirlwind of battle was spinning alongside me, I concentrated on maintaining a steady flow of energy. Alas, as I expected, even such a gain was not enough to be considered a normal magician. I could barely cope with the support of the spell, and for a second I could not be distracted by helping the allies.

Finally, the first phase was over, and I began to tear the shamans out of the bodies of the soul. They screamed and threatened with all sorts of punishments, but could not resist my strength. Two spirits who accompanied the Smellybel also went into action. Tied to him by agreement, they could not hide in the world of the dead. After two long minutes, the process is over. I could already breathe a sigh of relief, but at that moment I felt my strength leaving me. My magic core completely burned out and began to disintegrate, giving me an unforgettable experience. However, this was nothing compared to the spiritual pain tormenting me.

On the remnants of forces, I activated the process of soul transfer. I even had to draw the last crumbs of energy from the protective spells I supported. And it was necessary for such a thing to happen that at this very moment one of the attackers rushed at me and pierced through his sword. The spell cracked and collapsed. I also tried to "climb" into the crystal myself, but I did not have the energy for its full activation, and the last crumbs poured out through a defect in the crystal structure.

If I had a drop of energy. If I had been pierced with a sword even for a couple of seconds later. If the student shaman did not bring help. If I attacked yesterday, and the enemies did not have time to learn about our plans. If this bitch had not stolen a stone. If…!

Already being a disembodied soul, I woke up from the cycle of regrets and saw the Judge before me.

“You died.” indifferently declared Judge.

"I want to use a justice point for my resurrection." I gave back.

"You made a sacrifice, breaking the rules."

“The victim was accepted, so I have one point.”

“Your body has been destroyed by the ritual of awakening magic. According to the rules of this world, I cannot restore it.” The judge pointed to flaming sparks, scattering in all directions - all that remained of Kolchenog's body.

“My body is there.” I pointed to the crystal, lost in the tall grass.

“The body of vritras in this world? Interesting …” Reached the judge. “I hope you are not going to multiply.”

“No. Categorically I do not plan. This knowledge is meant only for me.”

“Ok, I will resurrect you.” I felt a mockery from the Judge. It was the first time when I felt real emotions from him, and not their slightly noticeable echoes. “It will cost me just a drop of magical energy.”

The crystal of the soul flashed, and even the opponents who surrounded Fatbel froze for a second, marveling at the radiance of magic. My soul merged with the new receptacle, and the flow of magic, which they called magic of dragons, poured into my mind.

The shining star rose into the air, and then broke out in a series of spells that destroyed all the goblins in the area. Only Fatbel remained on his feet, who by this time was the only survivor among my entire squad. Well, I got what I wanted. And not the fault of Fatbel, that my plan almost failed. So it is worth helping him and his tribe.

A healing spell covered the leader, healing the wounds he had received and giving away his heart from old age. Now he will be able to remain the strongest warrior of the village for another ten years - an unheard of thing by the standards of goblins. I looked at the mutilated bodies of the soldiers, lingered for a second on the deformed corpses of shamans, whose flesh resembled a ghostly candle that had peeled off the skeleton, and then jerked towards the main camp of the mob goblin tribe. Five minutes later the tribe was finished. All that was left of them were burning huts and torn bodies.

Once again I looked around the neighborhood with my mind, and with a shining meteor I set off to the south. Then I finished my business. It remains to find a quiet place and complete the process of my revival in the form of Vritras.

By morning I found the right place. The output of basalt rocks could be seen from afar by the characteristic cracking of the stone in the form of six-sided columns. Nearby flowed a stream around which trees grew. All the necessary materials to create my new body were at hand.

The synthesis of a new crystal took only a couple of hours and then only because I was trying to recreate it with an accuracy of an atom. But I had to construct a device for moving me from one crystal to another until the evening. I really didn't want to be left without a body by mistake. At sunset, I moved to a new housing and calmly sighed, starting to create my own external body.

All night I brought myself to perfect condition. It was necessary to obtain all the necessary chemical elements, to optimize the energy flows in the body, to re-learn, finally, to act without the source of the magic of spiders in my soul. In general, there were enough cases.

In the morning I turned into a quadrocopter and flew in the direction of the nearest playing figure. As it turned out, the "gift" of the Judge allowed to determine the position of any figure on the planet and read the information about who he is, what he can and so on. This set of data could not be called a disclosure of abilities, but rather it allowed me to accurately identify the object. Agree, the knowledge that the figure is a druid, not a necromancer, helps a lot in search.

The nearest figure to me was a kind of "king" ruling a small-town country. He possessed dragon magic and was a fairly strong figure by local standards. What is characteristic, if in relation to other figures he was rated as "strong", then in relation to ordinary people his epithet was "godlike". And by the way, he was a man. I was convinced of the existence of people in this world in half an hour of flight.

When I had about ten kilometers to the city, I landed in the forest, assumed a human form, and removed the disguise spell. I had to integrate into local society, for which, first of all, I should have study the language. A person who speaks only the language of goblins looks at least strange.

Oriented to the cardinal points, I moved towards the nearest road. It was not a central road, but a seedy track between two villages. Soon I was walking on the dusty ground, trying to determine from the tracks who had traveled here before me. The presence of an unknown companion ahead gave out dust that had risen into the air. Honestly, I had never even imagined that there could be so much dust on the road, billowing into the air with every step. It's good that I don't need to breathe all this. And although ... this dust is full of chrome. I miss him. Probably worth the opposite to breathe deeply, ha ha.

I didn't really hurry anywhere, rather simply enjoying the existence of a Vritras. How much, after all, can be comfortable life, if the body was created not by God for people, but by man for himself. It is immediately obvious that ordinary organic life is a fair hack. Or vice versa, a perfected torture instrument. As I remember my torment in the body of a goblin, a shiver squeaks.

Half an hour later I reached a farm of five houses, and in one I caught up with a small cart drawn by an ordinary horse. On the goats was sitting quite a normal look ... goblin. However, after a few seconds, a man came out of the house who began to impress the newcomer by actively cramming the chicken into his hands. And not bad here goblins live. I drew attention to the decent-looking suit that my ideological relative wore. Finally, the goblin agreed to take the chicken and threw the coin to the person. He deftly caught her, bowed, and dragged her back to the courtyard.

I went to a local landowner and addressed in the purest goblin language.

“Hey, bloke, can you take me to the city?”

He looked at me in amazement, looked around at the dusty, but good-quality clothes and moved away.

“Take a sit. And hold the chicken.”

Feathered living creatures migrated into my hands. With a light movement, I jumped onto the goats, and the cart moved off.

“Future lunch?” I asked, inspecting the goods.

“No, it will carry eggs. And there, you see, and dinner will be.”

I watched the farm pass by. From the height of the cart it was clearly visible what was happening in the courtyards of this settlement. However, I did not see anything original. Ordinary village life. Unless one could notice the general prosperity of the peasants and the fact that they are not afraid of the attack of bandits or forest animals.

“Well, tell me how you has come to such a life?” The goblin demanded when the houses disappeared behind the trees."

“What kind of life?” I was surprised.

“This is first time I meet a man who speaks the language of goblins without an accent. Yes, and in the northern dialect.”

“Oh, that. In my childhood I lived for several years in a village near goblins.”

I was measured by attentive eyes.

“And how is life in the north?”

“Harsh. Poverty is such that for one knife can cut half the village. Only at the expense of the shamans and survive.”

“Have you talked with the shaman?”

“I had to. Who else would you take me to the goblin village?”

So for an unhurried conversation, and passed our trip to the gates of the city. For one thing, I copied my knowledge of human language and local realities with a mental spell. Later I will to understand them.

At the gate we were met by a pair of healthy goons in armor. And beyond the gates, a dozen more of the same were languishing from boredom. Goblin turned out to be a local celebrity. At least, they didn't repair the obstacles, and with a bow, they addressed him by name and took the little one for the train ride. They did not take money from passers-by, and they fought back and forth without hindrance.

Soon we got to the turn on a narrow street, where I returned the chicken transferred for safekeeping and said goodbye to the goblin. The carriage turned to the right, and I went forward, turning my head to the sides like a real tourist. For the sake of completeness, all that was missing was a chest with gold, independently following its master. Instead, I have a puffy purse on my belt with coins appearing through the fabric.

To start a normal human life, I needed money. And where to get money if you don't have it, but you don't want to work? Of course, rob someone. And following the proletarian ideology, the loot should have been robbed, that is, the robbers. So I portrayed a naive sucker, waiting for everything when they would begin to rob me, or at least robbed.

Walking along the main streets, I turned into narrow streets, then into lanes, then I got to some slums, but no one looked at me. Finally, in one of the narrow lanes of the working part of the city, three men with cold weapons in their hands blocked my path.

“Hey, you! Well, get out of here! Go out.”

I do not understand ... They will not rob me?

“What do you not understand? This is our area.”

“In the sense of yours?” I decided to clarify an unclear point. “Did you buy it? Or did the king give it to you ... personally?”

In response to my words, the men faces were twisted with fear, and they quickly dumped, leaving me without an answer to my questions. I scratched my head and decided to first study the information package about the world from the goblin's memories. Having walked another three hundred meters, I reached the city wall, on which a narrow staircase led. Walking up the stairs, I found myself near the guard post, who was following something, peering intensely at the suburbs.

In order not to interfere with this important matter, I cast a spell on myself, averting my gaze, and sat down on the parapet, looking at the sights of the city, and in one coat the goblin's memories.

This country was ruled by King Vandal. Finding this name, I almost fell off the wall. Well at least not Koshchey. And then I would have crammed the chests in the woods to look for. In general, the king lived, not grieving. He took care of his kingdom, and achieved considerable success in this field. In particular, he completely eradicated theft, robbery, corruption, and so on. The essence of this success was that the investigation and the inquiry were carried out by mental magics. And the only kind of punishment in the kingdom was the death penalty. At first, this, of course, caused mass executions, repressions, genocide and resettlement of peoples, but after twenty years, somehow it turned out that there were no more criminals in the country.

Since then, life in the kingdom of Vandal has improved day by day. True, technical progress was in place, but who needs it? Exactly not king. He has magic. Neighboring countries from time to time tried to correct such inequalities through wars and robberies, but the king gathered his army and quickly brought the right ideas to the heads of neighboring rulers, usually after chopping heads off according to the laws of wartime.

The only serious problem was the overseas evil sorcerers, who repeatedly arrived in the capital in order to sow discord, bring chaos and kill the king in one or another malicious way. In general, I immediately felt that one of the two of us is good here, and who is evil. I even felt a little ashamed that I was plotting the slaughter of such a wonderful king. True, these moral torments lasted exactly until the first attack of mental torments because of the wounds inflicted on me. After that, I somehow didn't care how many millions or billions of righteous and wonderful kings would be sacrificed to my well-being. For what is being materially as opposed to being spiritual? So, decay and vanity.

Realizing the current political situation, I returned to the analysis of memories of the planning of the city. The city was divided into three parts - external, middle and internal. In the outside allowed everyone. One could get into the middle only with documents, money and a reasonable reason for visiting him. In the internal city was the palace of the king and the home of the most famous magicians of the country. To get there for a person from the outside was completely impossible, if not at the personal invitation of the king.

The goblin was poorly aware of this side of the life of the city, and therefore I had to use one of the guards, who carried his service literally three meters away from me. Having pierced his thoughts, I realized that I can not pass to internal city in normal way. There were so many checks, traps, patrols and documents that it was easier to shoot myself. But there was still a way through the air. The aircraft here were not running, but the guard did not know anything about the device of the magical air defense.

I could only wait for the dark, and under the cover of night to parachute on the roof of the palace. It was located, by the way, on top of a hill, and had at least a couple of dozen floors, so from my place on the wall this hybrid of a temple and an office building was perfectly visible.

Sunset I met, watching the game of sunlight in the stained glass windows of the palace. The day was clear, but after sunset the clouds thickened, and after three hours there was pitch darkness outside. I considered this an auspicious sign, and therefore soared into the sky, hiding from curious eyes behind the clouds.

I decided to start looking at this king, for one thing checking the quality of his guard. Throwing on all possible types of camouflage, I silently planned on the roof of the palace and began to search for ventilation outlets. Despite all the magic, no one became involved in the internal filtration and air regeneration system, so ventilation was soon discovered. With an inconspicuous stream, I leaked through all kinds of alarms and protection. I did not encounter any special problems on this path, because local magicians were engaged in such insignificant works, which could hardly counterpose the power of the civilization of spiders.

The search for the king did not take much time, because I still clearly felt his presence. Hope he can't feel me the same way. And then my spyware penetration will look quite ridiculous. Propelling through the air ducts, I got to the room I needed and carefully looked out from behind the ventilation grille.

Arctic fox! This is all that occurred to me when I saw this king. He should be called not godlike, but god equal. By the amount of power emanating from him, he could be compared to the Being and Judge. Well, at least in my innocent look. If I had two tails, then I could resist him ... a couple of seconds. And so I had no chance at all. I was in front of him like a mosquito - swat and he can kill me easily.

Now it is clear what this Judge is so insidiously laughing. If I can sacrifice these figures, he will become their master, throwing unsuspecting players so well. That's just to fill up such a mammoth, I need a bigger argument. Something like a megaton, and not a hundred megatons, as it were. In this case, it becomes obvious and the choice of my humble person to implement this scam. The local people clearly believe that magic is the pinnacle of power. So a thermonuclear blast will be an unpleasant surprise for them. Well, at least the first couple of times. So, I need a plan. Do you have a plan, Mr. Fix? Of course, I have a plan, Mr. Fix. For those who know me, my plan is completely obvious. Lithium deuteride is our everything.

I slowly crawled away from the grille, climbed onto the roof and took off, getting out of the palace of the righteous king in full steam. Only after flying a couple of hundred kilometers, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief and begin to plan my actions. Actually, what is there to plan? Necessary: 1 - to create two dozen thermonuclear bombs with magic fuses; 2 - develop remotely controlled delivery vehicles; 3 - blow the fuck up; 4 - profit.

Point one was simple and clear to me. My body is a natural element separation factory. Moreover, the extraction of lithium deuteride is one of the physiological functions developed by me. There is even nothing to do. Magic fuse, working on the magic of spiders, I also calculated a long time. It will be enough a couple of experiments to make sure it works. After that, the creation of a thermonuclear bomb will be a tedious but simple process.

The second point of the plan raised questions, but not so much with the possibility of its implementation, as with the time it would have to spend on it. I knew the spell "remote camera", transmitting the image to the brain of the magician. Then it was necessary only to make artifact aircraft and attach a control system based on two-way information transfer to them. For those who fundamentally understand the structure of radio models, the solution to this problem is not a problem.

The explosion of targets does not seem to be a big problem either. As I have already planned, you can use a hybrid of an airplane and a rocket to deliver the charge. And you can lay it in advance near the place where the goal lives. If there is no developed air defense system, then the first option is preferable. Targeting rockets can be guided by my sense of the location of the figures. Here, of course, there is something to work on, but in the event of which there is always an option with the delivery of a charge just to the approximate area and an increase in the number of explosives. As they say, after us even the waterflood. I have a fool enough to evaporate the entire planet, as bequeathed to the Being. The main thing is to have time to claim back my tails from the Judge.

Having decided on the strategy, I flew back to the north, where I got to the sea and disappeared without a trace in its depths. After just a month, I was ready to act. While the body was floating in the depths of the world ocean, collecting deuterium, the mind designed UAVs powered by a cold fusion reactor, which was essentially a separate part of my body. After all, for me it is just a matter of physiology. Not for nothing, I loaded the computers of the station with similar tasks - that was useful. Finding targets based on information from my ability was also brought to mind. And the packing of the warhead in a metal shell and the crossing of this gift with the drone did take a couple of hours.

Based on the sound principle of "many - not enough", I created twenty charges, ranging from megatons to gigatons. The last option was intended personally to King Vandal. For a good man, nothing is a pity. A total of thirty-two game figures lived on the planet, including me. But I aimed at the strongest. In the end, then it will be possible to show the Judge that I cared about his well-being.

I was buried in the mountains on the northern islands in the Arctic Circle. Here from living creatures were only moss and penguins. The second ate the first in life, and the first second after their death. In general, this ecosystem amused me. And most importantly, both moss and penguins, with joy, tried to devour any stranger, which means it would be more difficult to get to me.

Finally, everything was ready, and I pressed the imaginary red button. A minute later I said:

“I sacrifice these figures to the Judge.”

At my expense it drove eighteen Justice Points. Well, not bad either. I wonder who it turned out to be so tenacious?

“I suggest the Game Judge to exchange ten Justice Points for my energy centers and the healing of spiritual wounds.”

As soon as I spoke these words, my consciousness began to perceive the "spiritual world", where the Judge was already waiting for me.

“I confirm the deal.” Indifferently said that. I did not even feel the least of his attention.

After this two energy centers approached me and took their rightful place. After that, Bakhion was literally pipetted on me, which was barely enough to somehow repair the damage.

“The transaction is completed.” The image of the judge disappeared, and I was again on the island among the penguins.

The following week I sat in a cave and quietly cursed the Judge, trying to make my tails work. If you make an analogy with the physiology, then tails sewn to me, but did not consider it necessary to restore the nerves in the spinal cord. As a result, my control over the energy produced was almost zero. If earlier I could control the chakra as a part of my body, now it was an alien substance that desperately resisted my will.

The only positive thing was that the pain that tormented me disappeared, although sometimes it returned in the form of short attacks. My hatred for the players and their games slowly matured, gradually driving my crazy. Or not. It's just that a part of my consciousness constantly, without interruptions and fatigue, pondered over how to annoy so much stronger than any complications, so that they would feel the eternal torments of hell on their skin.

At dawn on the eighth day, which in one place combined with sunset and noon due to the approaching polar night, I felt the aura of the Being that I already knew. At this time, it deigned to take a material appearance, still not very concrete - just a glowing spot. Yeah, that burning thorn bush. I will find out.

“And how do you do that? Only the fourth game, and you have already won the titles of the Most Bloody Butcher of a planetary and galactic scale. You are already becoming famous. Haha”

“So the bloodiest one?” I doubted.

“And who is here no further, how a week ago destroyed all life form on the planet?”

“How about penguins?”

“Look yourself.”

I walked out of the cave and made sure that all the penguins that were guarding my peace were safely dead.

“What is wrong with them?”

“Radiation. What are you surprised at?”

“But, I used the usual thermonuclear bombs. From them there should not be such.”

“Oh, you darkness.” Being down to educational program. "If you used a lead sheath, it would be a ‘clean’ thermonuclear bomb. And so you got a neutron bomb. And you blew up such twenty pieces, almost evenly distributing on the surface of the planet. As a result, those who did not die from the explosion itself, in wild torment, died three days later from neutron irradiation and secondary radiation.”

I looked at the serene clouds that were carried across the sky by the cold north wind.

“I wondered why body chemical composition jumps back and forth.” Dazzled I. “This is simply neutron conversion of isotopes.” I categorically did not want to think about the "native" village of goblins.

“In general, it turned out well.” Begin to calm me down Being. “Such an epic happy ending happened. Eighteen strong pieces went to the Judge, and I got a reward for defeating thirteen players in the elite league. By the way, I almost forgot. Players rebelled and by a general vote forbade you to use thermonuclear weapons in non-cosmic worlds. Plus, the council of judges decided to take away your playing ability from you. More precisely, the points earned will remain with you, but you cannot earn new this way. Honestly, this your part-time job on the Judge upset me.” A herd of goosebumps ran across my back, although I did not plan such a physiological function for my body. “But he played you into the dark, and you had no special choice. For the sake of a piece of their soul, people ready do more worse things. But next time, at least warn me about such plans.”

“Sure.” I assured the Being, whose hard look literally almost smeared me on the ground.

“Agreed.” The pressure disappeared, and I again took the humanoid form. “In result, this game server was closed, the Judge was transferred to another department with a boost for resourcefulness, but all game figures were confiscated.” I could only grin inwardly. For full laughter, I had to personally pull out a couple of pieces from the soul of the Judge. “I have already told you about the decisions regarding you. Now for the sweet.”

“Award?” I was skeptical.

“Better! New game. This time in the world familiar to you. Once again, do not use thermonuclear bombs. This is not funny. Just threw a figure into the game, fucking, and that's it, game over. About such neither book not to write, nor film take, in general very boring. Yes, and rivals writing claims for evil cheaters. Bu-ga-ga-ga.”

“What are rules in this game?”

“Rules exist. But for you, knowing them not by the rules. However, I can give a tip: the goal of the game is to grow the most delicious Pokemon. Allright, let's go.”

And it's like I turned off.