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

I took a hard look at him. What was the catch? Why was the elven prince asking me that question?

“You’ve just gotten them angry. Pandorum is strong enough to take down NAVY and you combined.”

“...”

“You need help,” Cey-Rus concluded, never taking his eyes off me.

“What are you offering?”

“Help,” he replied. With a smile, he unclasped the collar of his cloak and revealed a heavy seven-pointed amulet glowing blue, clearly made from star metal. I recognized it: it was the star of the Seven Brothers, the Compass that once belonged to Svechkin. All of this — the presence of the Compass, the strange conversation, the elf’s sudden arrival — could mean only one thing. Cey-Rus was one of the developers, trusted enough for the Gravekeeper to give him the Compass that he had guarded with his life.

“Yes,” the elf answered my silent question. “You can call me Cey-Rus. I came to take a closer look at you. After all, in a certain sense, we’re...brothers.”

He chuckled.

“Your sword was designed for me. Fate decided otherwise. I bear no grudge — I know that you aren’t exactly thrilled with this deal. But it doesn’t matter. I didn’t come here for this.”

“Why did you, then?” I asked.

“I want to help. We’re going to work together from now on. If the outcome of this battle matters to you, the Seven are ready to help.”

He just wanted to help? Nobody helped in Sphere without a good reason. I could see right through him. Romanova, Svechkin, and he wanted to use me in their interests, just like the Magister. They wanted to tie me down, create a situation that would make me beholden to them. I had a hunch what help Cey-Rus — or rather, Maxim Rubtsov mentioned by the former developers — meant. The First Maiden was prepared to rain down the might of the Silver Stronghold on Pandorum’s heads, most likely pursuing several far-reaching goals at once. Another question was what they would demand in exchange for this help and how it would turn out in the future. After a couple of such favors, they would nicely ask me to give them the sword, especially since its real owner had just shown up. I had to decide between bad and worse.

* * *

Crow: We can’t break through. The fire’s too dense! They took down two groups at once.

Evil Mook: They’ve figured us out too quick! Continue harassing them, don’t let them rest!

Komtur: We need to hold out for just over an hour...

Evil Mook: I don’t understand what they’re waiting for. If they want to destroy the castle, they need to attack right now.

Olaf: Take note: they aren’t using destructive damage when firing at the castle, only fire and lightning. In both previous sieges, they crushed the castle artillery first and foremost. Do they want to capture it?

Evil Mook: Most likely. But how? It’s as if they’re waiting for something.

Fifty-six minutes remained until the castle dome renewed itself. We had done the impossible, containing the enemy forces for five hours — first at Atrocity and then here. We managed to seize the initiative and force our opponents on the defensive. All that was left was to hold out for just a little while longer.

But underestimating the enemy was dangerous. The Northerners weren’t the only ones with surprises in store. The Pandas behaved oddly, not trying to charge or take the castle in the remaining hour, not coming close enough to engage and destroy the citadel with Colossus fire. They were biding their time, and soon, we realized why.

Condor, the Cloud Castle, was located at the top of the mountain, above the clouds, surrounded by steep unapproachable slopes covered by ice caps and speckled with ravines. Nobody was guarding the castle from below, as climbing the peaks was impossible...or so we had thought.

At first, we heard strange sounds similar to knocking, clip-clopping, and the screeching of metal against stone. They were coming from below, from underneath the clouds, first muted but clearer with each second. Players’ screams followed, and more and more curious soldiers leaned over the balustrade, watching the weird sight.

Many-legged figures dove out of the cloud haze, one after another. Greenish-brown and insectile, they climbed the steep slopes and impregnable cliffs with a strange ease. There were many of them, too: more and more creatures appeared behind the others, blending together and rapidly surrounding Condor from below.

Evil Mook: [Censored], what is this? Scouts, [censored], were you asleep?

Abel: There are thousands of players and NPCs around the castle! A crap ton of signals, ships, hell if I know!

Inker: They can’t be detected with Mental Search. They aren’t alive.

Komtur: Are they undead?

Olaf: Worse. Ancient mechanisms. Don’t you recognize them?

Seekers immediately swept down to the dark torrent advancing from the clouds. The pictures in the chat demonstrated the creatures in detail: giant spider-like hexapods with two combat limbs raised to the sky like praying mantises. Their bodies glistened with the green patina of Ancient Alloy, the eyes on their flat heads shooting out thin scarlet beams. The first “spider” had already reached the sheer fortress wall, deftly climbing the vertical surface just like a real insect. Its lower limbs glowed white with heat, incandescent, leaving a double chain of small holes in the stone.

Komtur: Ancient Arachnids!

Olaf: Exactly, hundreds of them. Where did they get so many, I wonder? How are they controlling them?

Evil Mook: Right now, it doesn’t matter! What are those creatures? How do we fight them?

Olaf: War machines of the Ancients. Pioneer bestiary says they’re armored damage dealers, high resistances. Anything but electric damage is useless.

Evil Mook: [Censored]! Send mages to the walls! Don’t wait; start hitting them!

Komtur: The Pandas started attacking, too.

Evil Mook: Of course they did. Crow, send out your guys. Slow them down!

* * *

“Well, now you definitely need help,” Cey-Rus stated the obvious. “So what is it, Cat?