Battle for the North (Rogue Merchant Book #4): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (the dot read aloud .TXT) 📕

What a strange world. Instead of a sky, it had a sea of reddish haze, somewhat resembling the Astral Plane but denser and more saturated. Like a swallow’s nest, the balcony stuck to a giant black cliff, and I saw lots of similar terraced ledges carved in the solid rock. The steep mountain wall led far down, where yellow-black lava boiled and bubbled amid spurts of flame and clouds of rising smoke. Its surface stretched into the distance, all the way beyond the horizon. We were on an island surrounded by an endless sea of molten fire bursting with terrifying fiery spurts. What kind of place was that? How could one live there?

The floor beneath my feet suddenly swayed, and I grabbed onto the stone railing to avoid falling down. With a thunderous roar, like an erupting volcano, our island moved forward, becoming the epicenter of concentric waves rippling across the lava. We were pulled along the rocky mass, compared to which the palace of the Succubate looked tiny.

“Yes, we’re moving,” Mara answered my unspoken question. “This is Infernis; life here can only exist on the backs of the beasts wandering the sea of lava. There’s an entrance to the Endless Paths nearby. Hundreds of beasts inhabit this world, roaming it like walking islands. Some are populated with other creatures, and some are even occupied by your kind — players!”

“And the Succubate has a problem with players?”

“No,” the demoness replied, giggling like a schoolgirl. “Why did you think that? You players are so funny. Playing with you is sometimes really amusing!”

“What, then?”

“Until recently, I thought I knew everything,” Mara said, suddenly serious. “But a new power emerged in Sphere. Players are leaving their holdings, driven away. Those of my subjects who approached...”

She stopped, shivering, as if afraid to say the word.

“They’re gone, all of them. Gone for good, they’re not coming back,” she continued quietly. “They don’t exist anymore. And I’m afraid that when they’re finished with you...they’ll switch to us.”

I couldn’t understand anything. What was she talking about? Where had they gone? NPCs of ranks two and three were immortal as long as their faction and home respawn existed. The only way to destroy them for good was by capturing them inside a Soul Eater or Pandorum’s artifacts.

“No, not Soul Eaters!” the demoness replied. “They’re gone forever. I don’t know how to explain. I don’t understand what’s going on. You’re one of the Seven, and now you’re bound to us by blood. Help us, and the Succubate will reward you in kind!”

Mara, the Mistress of the Wandering Succubate, is offering you a special quest:

Missing Souls

Find the mysterious soul reaver in the world of Infernis and learn the fate of the missing succubi.

Reward: experience, item, (varies)

Attention: The quest might contain 18+ content and scenes of violence. The administration assumes no liability for your mental state while performing it.

The Succubate was asking me for help, which was rather amusing, especially considering the Mistress’s blatantly playful behavior. Was this the effect of the Racial Metamorphosis or the Demon Prince archetype? In any case, Mara wasn’t acting like an arrogant bitch anymore. She kept trying to seduce me, but that was probably instinct.

“I have only one condition,” I said, taking my time before accepting the task.

“A condition?” the demoness purred. “Which one, darling?”

“I don’t work without an advance payment. I need the Succubate’s help in battle. Today, in several hours.”

“A Grand Summoning? Again?” Mara winced. “By the Netherworld, the fight in that astral castle you called us to last time wasn’t a walk in the park!”

“I never promised you it would be easy,” I replied. “But you got the Transformation Gem back. I promise you: I’ll help you — if you help me!”

* * *

The unexpected visit to the Netherworld didn’t take up much time. I still made it to the Bazaar to finish Olaf’s mission. I had no idea how the alliance leaders had arranged it, but all Veils crafted with my blueprints were ready: a thousand personal amulets and fifty artifacts to be installed on ships. NPC masters had created the components, and our own Artifactors finished the assembly in complete secrecy, scared half to death by Evil Mook and company.

Our tacticians had devised something dangerous. Other than the Veils, the list of transported cargo included a hundred Bells, both medium and large, the cheapest rigging for small ships, and dozens of Control Astral Ships skillbooks. I was even more surprised upon reaching the delivery point, a distant spot in the Astral Plane: Keith Borland was waiting there on Crabstrocity, surrounded by a group of small skiffs. A skiff was a flying boat or rather a yacht — the smallest and cheapest astral ship available. Well, “cheapest” didn’t mean a lot — an empty frame cost at least forty thousand, plus ten more for rigging. Our alliance had made a pretty big investment — the fleet circling Octopus’ nave cost several million. Dozens of skiffs were immediately geared with the newly delivered modules, and Borland himself was bursting with pride but remained tight-lipped — he had received a secret mission of some kind.

I was once again summoned to Condor. It was the raid call. Only one hour remained until the castle’s invincibility wore off. As I exited the clan teleporter, I saw that the castle was almost empty: most players of Enemy, Brethren, Heroes, and Unity had gone somewhere with only the Watchers and NPCs remaining to defend it. Clan and alliance chats were full of puzzled questions; everyone had no idea what was going on. I looked at the reports and opened the updated political map of Dorsa.

Yeah. Things were turning ugly for us. Despite our fierce resistance, in less than 24 hours, the Northerners had lost more than