Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) by John Gold (novel24 TXT) 📕

can be without fear of retribution. I’ve only ever felt this much hatred for Leon and Talamei. My black list gets three new names added to it.

Even the worst things come to an end eventually, and we’re able to get to the River of Life before the mermen can use a trawling net. The first time, Femida cuts it with dissection. The second time, the gods join forces to create one that’s much tougher. I’m forced to use leap, a weaker teleportation spell that takes us to a predetermined point. No sooner has dissection failed than we are half a kilometer ahead. But the mermen quickly figure out what happened and change their strategy, with two up ahead of us to hold a huge net underwater while the third follows us from the rear.

“Meteor. Maximum.”

Of course, running into the epicenter of the blast is crazy. The mermen, on the other hand, are impressed by the size and scatter.

Fem, stay close—I’ll cover us.

The magic shield takes most of the damage, and our resistance is strong enough to cover the rest. While I’m coming to, Femida grabs my shell-shocked body and dashes off toward the River of Life, which is just a kilometer away.

And that is how our trip to the Clover clinic ends.

***

Bernard was in the first attacking line, and just wrapping up a large fiery seal. His job was to be the vessel for the spell’s combat power; the other mages in the ritual were there to absorb the recoil. For that, he needed fifteen fire battle mages with about the same level skills. Ten of them dispersed the energy around the outer circle, while four more gave the mage in the center their mana and took on their share of the recoil.

At the center of the seal, Bernard was there to receive the group’s combat power. An hour later, he would be a helpless beginner just starting the game.

The seal was analogous to the final seal for ritual magic—self-sacrifice. It included ten-times amplification and complete depletion for ten days, with ninety-nine-percent reduction for all attributes, faster metabolism, nausea, random stunning, and seizures that made it the last weapon used in a siege.

The battle for Pragada, the home of Veresal, the patron of mages, was in its fifth day. The trinity was able to take the fight to Veresal, though neither side had the strength to win the day. Veresal always leveraged the difference in experience fighting magic duels to win. The trinity fell back to redraw its plans.

Neither storm nor siege could capture the city. The old god had been able to combine the city’s mana storages with his own source of strength in the astral, turning the latter into his main altar. Only Veresal’s death would be enough to capture the city, and he had enough strength to last another month.

War is expensive. One of the trinity’s visages offered an enormous reward to the Black Rose clan, the young gods understanding that normal players could face the god. They needed the mercenaries’ help in their battle with Veresal. The scales needed to be tipped in their direction by blocking Veresal’s divine avatars, not to mention the best mages on his side. And there was no forgetting the three holy saints on the old god’s side. They could stand against any of the young gods, and it fell to the group belonging to Bernard, the second-strongest mage in the world, to counter them.

Margul and his squad covered the mages during the ritual. But Bernard could see for himself how Drako was checking for the fifth time that minute that his sword slid easily out of its sheath.

“What’s wrong?”

Margul took his helmet off and paused before replying.

“I’m positive there’s a third power at work here. It’s like my brain itches—they’re here watching us. I can sense it, almost as if their seeker spirits are palpating me.”

There was still some time left before the ritual, so Bernard used a lesser spirit sphere. It showed all the active immaterial beings within a radius of ten meters. Immediately, no less than a dozen spirits appeared, all looking awfully nasty.

“Demons.”

Margul spat at the skinless snakes slithering around his body.

“That means they’re somewhere nearby, too. Tell the warriors to get ready. We’re going to open a weaker infernal gate. I’ll tell the other clan leaders.”

Four former gods joined the battle, covering the trinity in the fight with Veresal. Their squads cut the divine avatars off from the trinity’s visages as they began their organized assault on the old god. Bernard activated his seal and began shelling Veresal’s holy mages. Lightning, meteors, superior fire elementals, and golems rained down on them. Then, Bernard turned to his deadliest spells. Even if he was cut off from his divine arsenal, he was still none the weaker. He was a god of war, and he had more experience in fights like this than the whole small pantheon put together.

The trinity forced Veresal back onto his heels. Thirty avatars attacked in concert with the trinity’s visages, bringing all their weight to bear on the old god’s magic shield. But Veresal’s lips moved incessantly, and Bernard noticed out of the corner of his eye what the old scoundrel was up to. Erdo was one of the strongest spells requiring divine energy. The last time it had been used collectively, it had destroyed the entire Manay Caliphate, turning it into the Hashan Desert. Ten gods had merged their strength to kill Idzumi, but the latter had merely scoffed at their attempt. And there Veresal was. The curse was the last card he had up his sleeve.

High above the field where the trinity’s battle was playing out, a large sphere of light appeared. It pulsed for three seconds as it let out a piercing sound. Then, everything started to go dark. The sphere burned brighter, absorbing all the light