Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (read ebook pdf .TXT) 📕

very expensive,” I spoke up, smiling. “Am I right to understand that this Stronghold of yours can travel to any point in Sphere? Then I have a great proposal. How about a secret hideout in Helt Akor?”

“A nice idea. I’ve thought about the Endless Paths myself,” Romanova replied, surprising me. “We could hole up there for a while, plus distant layers often generate Ancient instances and ellurite deposits. It fits the bill. Do you have specific coordinates, HotCat? What is that place? Keep in mind that we’ll need a beacon to jump there, similar to a spelljumper transportation.”

“I have the coordinates and can teleport there,” I replied. “We can go right now. However, I don’t work for free. What about my reward?”

Romanova and Svechkin exchanged a long, meaningful look. In moments like this, silence spoke more than words. I patiently waited, chuckling inwardly. I already knew what I wanted from those pretentious bigheads.

“I’m not sure...three items...” the First Maiden said, hesitant. “What would you like, for example?”

I didn’t answer, watching the Abyssal through the hologram. Thrainul’s ship rapidly submerged, turned around, and took to its heels at full speed. The spectral hands that had destroyed the pursuers and the slaughter on the Panda vessel caused the captain to make the only right call—get the hell out of there. Knowing Romanova’s unpredictable temper, I was happy with that, especially since the Crown started undergoing an incredible metamorphosis.

The island came alive as the icy ridges swelled, covering the ground with a web of cracks. Fragments broke off one after another, plopping into the black water and turning into floating icebergs. The frozen facets reverberated, fracturing and crumbling down one after another, uncovering the elegant spires, towers, and bastions of the true Silver Stronghold, softly gleaming with crystal and dull silver. It was a giant citadel inspiring awe and dread as it soared above the ocean surface, rising above the field of icebergs, the remains of its former shell, until it was enveloped in a spectral glow, flashed, and disappeared.

* * *

The appointed time had come.

The lines of a Great Pentagram glimmered on the white snow. The assigned troops passed through it, and instead of a chilly northern wind, a warm breeze blew into their black two-pronged banners. Green hills came alive with black hordes of Irchi. Swarms of winged silhouettes cut through the sunrise sky.

The House of Darkness finally reached the Golden Fairs.

First to climb the crest of the hill, Ananizarte looked down. There, on the horizon, surrounded by the hazy morning mist, lay a great coastal city defended by a half-circle of battlements. People stirred inside—portals flashed into being, sails were raised on the even rows of masts in the harbor, and groups of defenders ran through the streets among clouds of dust. The enemies weren’t going to give up without a fight. They had superior numbers and counted the majority of players in their ranks.

Too bad for them.

* * *

I was woken up by the annoying beep of the communicator. Raising my head from the pillow, I barely managed to unglue my eyes. Behind the window, dawn was breaking. Who wanted me at this hour? I fumbled for the comm bracelet on the nightstand; it was nestled between the stems of wine glasses. Yes, after logging out of Sphere, I had spent the night passionately fighting with Alena and then reconciling, just as passionately.

Needless to say, the message came from the game. It was a mass announcement on the alliance channel, significant enough to be forwarded to my personal number—something important and urgent, going by the flashing red text.

TO CLANS ENEMY, WATCHERS, HEROES, BRETHREN, VARANGIANS, UNITY

CALL FOR ACTION!

ALL MAIN CLAN MEMBERS, LOG IN IMMEDIATELY!

MAXIMUM ATTENDANCE!

RAID ASSEMBLED AT 5:30-6:00, CONDOR

P.S. EXPECT EPIC ACTION!

I was about to fall back asleep if not for the fine print at the end of the announcement that said that frequent absentees might start looking for new clans. With a deep sigh, I carefully removed Alena’s hand lying on top of me and sat down on the bed, yawning and rubbing my eyes. It was just after five in the morning. My better half would likely sleep until ten; just the opportunity to pay my dues to the clan. The Watchers probably had already forgotten what I looked like.

The capsule blinked invitingly as it turned on. Epic action, you say?

End of Book Three

Book 4 is available for preorder!

Battle for the North (Rogue Merchant Book #4)

 

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ALL BOOKS BY ROMAN PROKOFIEV:

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