The archipelago was huge. It wasn’t for nothing Ferrigan had been known as the Lord of a Thousand Isles.
Narrow channels separated terra firma into tiny islets. I couldn’t even see where the archipelago ended, its outer isles disappearing in a misty haze.
The frothy surf rolled over the narrow strips of pebble beaches, then cascaded fuming against the precipitous cliffs. I could still make out the thin ribbons of ancient roads and collapsed bridges that used to connect the isles once.
Finally, Christa reached the desired height and soared upon the air currents, slowly approaching the area that interested us.
The copses of trees scattered over the savannah framed the ruins of dilapidated farmhouses. This must have once been an agricultural paradise.
Closer to the channel separating us from the neighboring island, the terrain rose sharply forming a rocky shore dissected by dark canyons.
“I can see the ruins of a big city,” Christa reported. “And the tower. I’ll see if I can get closer.”
She headed toward the channel.
Dark dots rose from the canyons and made a beeline toward her, blocking her way.
“Christa, watch out!” White and Enea shouted in synch. “There’re some mobs about to attack you!”
“Gargoyles,” Christa’s breathing hastened. “I thought they were just statues cut into the rock!”
She banked into a sharp turn. The veil of gloom that surrounded her transformed into arrows of dark energy which shot out in every direction.
The gargoyles dodged them with ease. Their levels were lower than Christa’s but only just.
This was a serious problem. According to my estimations, this whole island stretched for less than fifteen miles from east to west. Still, although the mobs were quite doable here by the portal, closer to the channel they were twice as strong.
The developers must have saved this region for when the Crystal Sphere finally had players above level 150.
In the meantime, the air above the cliffs seethed with dogfight.
“Are they stone gargoyles?” Lethmiel butted in. “You can’t use regular weapons against them,” he added, offering us a glimpse into his massive wealth of information. “If Christa will consider my humble advice, tell her to nosedive.”
“Why, what will it give her?”
“Stone gargoyles are quite bulky and not very agile. They live in narrow canyons where they can only fly short distances, flitting from one rock ledge to the next.”
“Christa, did you hear that?” Enea asked.
“Yeah,” Christa replied.
The demonic arrows had failed to deal the gargoyles much damage. Both belonged to the powers of the Dark which made the gargoyles immune to certain types of magic.
Following Lethmiel’s advice, Christa took a sharp nosedive, dropping to the ground.
The gargoyles missed her and struggled to get out of each other’s way. They promptly started a short-lived squabble, then darted down after her.
They weren’t particularly smart, were they? Either that, or they hadn’t met a seasoned opponent for quite a while.
Christa had managed to pull off the risky maneuver. Just as her shadow was already trailing on the ground, she changed her course with an effortless grace. Three of the mobs chasing after her had failed to stop their deadly drop and fell to their deaths. The others slowed down just in time, crowing hoarsely in alarm. Clumsily flapping their unyielding wings, they returned to the cliffs.
Soon Christa was back. She landed, then quickly drew a few symbols on the ground.
Once again the little tongues of black flames rose around her, transforming her back into an ordinary girl.
“Could you forward the logs and the footage to Stephen, please?” I asked her.
“Yeah,” she nodded, catching her breath. “Lethmiel, thanks for the tip, man. I’ll keep that one on the back burner. Those gargoyles are resistant to my skills. And fighting them in the air isn’t worth it. All you’ll do is blunt your swords on those slabs of rock.”
“I’m glad to have been of help,” Lethmiel replied modestly.
* * *
While my map-making app processed the data, Lethmiel began exploring the ruins one by one.
I used my mind expander to create a 3D model of the two islands. The tower was on the other one. It must have once been part of a majestic architectural ensemble — a palace, most likely. Still, by now most of the buildings on the other side of the channel had crumbled into ruins and been reclaimed by the jungle.
Getting there was going to be a problem. The islands’ shores were unassailable. The only road on our side led through a dark canyon toward a decrepit air bridge which connected the two islands.
To get there, we had to deal with several groups of high-level mobs. Christa had reported more of Ferrigan’s warriors guarding the entrance to the canyon, all levels 130. The gargoyles which had attacked her had been level 170.
And that was just here. What awaited us on the other side?
In any case, today we weren’t going to find that out. The raid needed at least another couple of days just to get to the canyon. By then, our combat section would have leveled up enough to successfully handle the cliffs.
I updated the maps, then climbed onto a nearby hill to check on the others.
Supported by wizards, several details of warriors were advancing slowly but surely. They’d already smoked three packs of stone-skinned gorillas. Our casualties: four respawns, none of them fatal. All of the warriors had made two levels each.
That was good. We were leveling up faster than White had anticipated.
Enea and I had received our fair share of XP too.
Still, the master looter’s report wasn’t particularly brilliant. We hadn’t yet received any unique items or ingredients. Just some gorillas’ claws and pelts, a dozen gold coins and a few old swords, rusty and useless, which we’d discovered under the trees. That was the extent of it.
Still, it wasn’t over yet. Soon our warriors would get to the second ruin, the one guarded by Ferrigan’s warriors.
“Alexatis! I found it! I found it!” Lethmiel’s excited voice echoed in the voice chat.
Judging by the local map, our Blood Elf was now inside one of the larger rooms, the one with the collapsed roof. We’d already checked it but failed to find anything of any value.
“So what did we miss?” I asked.
“Come and take a look!”
We hurried to join him. The only conspicuous detail in the gloomy room was a large tree which had grown up through the broken stone floor and was reaching out for the light.
How strange.
“So what did you find?” I asked Lethmiel in a stern voice.
To my surprise, he avoided answering and even averted his gaze, as if saving his clan leader the embarrassment.
The others understood it too. Enea took a screenshot of the room and started a database search.
“Alex, you won’t believe it!” she soon explained. “This is a Khmor tree!”
“What, the goblins’ tree?” White sounded sincerely surprised.
“What’ve goblins got to do with it?” Christa asked, studying the room with curiosity.
The moment she stepped toward the tree, its branches shifted. Its canopy rose up, as if avoiding contact with her. A few seemingly dry branches bent threateningly.
“Don’t you remember the totem our goblins are looking for? It was made of Khmor wood, wasn’t it? We still haven’t found it.”
“Let’s make them a new one!” White suggested. “Do you have a picture of it?”
“No, we don’t.”
“Never mind,” he said, unfazed. “I’ll see if I can find it online.”
“They’ll see it’s a fake straight away,” Christa said.
“I don’t think so,” Enea said. “How long ago was it? Several hundred years at least. I don’t think this generation even knows what it looks like, let alone how to use it. If we find a pictu
re of it, I think it’s worth trying. Only I suggest we cast some spell on it.”
“What do you mean?” Christa asked.
“Well, we could make it attract fish for the goblins or frighten off hydras. And — as a nice little bonus — prevent them from messing with us.”
“That’s wise,” White said. “By the way, I’ve found a picture.”
“So what do you think?” Rodrigo asked. “Should we cut it down? It’s a good idea. Even if we do find the original totem, we can’t give it back to them. It will only make them stronger which is something we don’t need at all. Actually... can’t we use your Object Replication? Then we won’t even need to find a wood carver.”
“Wait... what are you talking about?” Lethmiel stepped in our way, white as a sheet, as if trying to shield the tree from us. “You can’t cut it down! It might be the last Khmor tree in the world!”
“Why, are they so rare?”
“They’re alive! They’re sentient! They were all wiped out hundreds of years ago to make magic staffs and Elven bows! You could only make them out of Khmor wood!”
I paused, pondering over his words.
The tree was still swaying its boughs threateningly.
A thumping sound came from the ruin’s second floor, followed by a subdued flash of golden light. Apparently, Alpha the Black Mantis had just made a new level.
“Okay,” I said. “Let it stay where it is. Especially if, as you say, it’s sentient.”
Lethmiel breathed a noisy sigh of relief.
“Never mind. Let’s go,” White motioned us out.
The earth under the tree roots shifted, disgorging a square object covered in clay.
“Oh wow! That’s a treasure box!” Rodrigo bent down to pick it up.
The tree rustled menacingly. Its lower branches curved back, then lashed out at our wizard, knocking him down.
“Hey, whassup?” Rodrigo asked in indignation. “We didn’t mean you any harm!”
“This must be for Alex,” Enea said. “He’s the only one who can pick it up. The tree won’t let anybody else near it.”
She was right. I had no problem picking up the box.
I opened it.
Platinus craned his neck. “What is it?”
The First Ring of Ferrigan’s Guard.
Made by ancient master jewelers of the Yonder Isles who produced them for the personal guards of the Lord of a Thousand Isles.
Normally, Ferrigan’s Guards used to wear five different rings. Few of the guards’ descendants can boast owning one of the ancient relics.
Effect: +10% to physical and magic protection.
“Excellent ring!” White exclaimed once I’d made its stats public. “This is exactly what I meant. We really should send one of the groups to find access to the lagoon. I’m pretty sure we might find lots of similar stuff in the holds of those ships.”
“You think they traded them overseas? Doubtful,” I said.
“What, in Ferrigan’s times? Easy! If indeed they had an intensive jewelry trade here, they were bound to export them. They might not be as impressive as this one, but still, how cool is that?”
Chapter Five
The Crystal Sphere
Rion Castle
WE RETURNED TO THE CASTLE in the evening, together with one of the groups who’d just finished their leveling stint.
The day had proved hot and busy. We’d advanced about fifteen hundred feet. The gorillas’ respawn times were only two hours. Also, in one of the ruins our warriors had walked right into another group of crystal-clad Guardians.
As a result, the whole combat section had made 5 levels in total. We’d farmed two more sets of crystal armor and three more Rings of Ferrigan’s Guard albeit not as awesome as the one gifted to me by the Khmor tree.
Overall, I was quite pleased with the developments. Back in Rion, the restoration of the outer walls was in full swing. The scouts we’d left in Warblerford reported that everything was quiet.
Allan had sent me a brief polite message informing me that the Ravens had safely made it back to their castle.
Enea, however, seemed to be a bit under the weather. After dinner, she’d climbed into a large soft chair and just sat there with her legs tucked up under her, melancholically leafing through an old manuscript.
Alpha was sitting on her shoulder, curiously studying the pictures.
We hadn’t noticed the twilight falling. I lit up some candles. “What are you thinking about?”
“I’m looking at these ancient Elven temples,” she said. “Don’t you remember we still have a clan quest to do?”
I pulled up a chair. “Okay, let’s think about it.”
The task was anything but easy. We didn’t possess the most important element, one which was supposed to breathe life and meaning into whatever architectural design we might choose. We needed a proper Elven shrine.
I looked at the pictures of delicate white edifices. “We could use Object Replication, I suppose. Alternatively, we could ask the dwarves-”
“Won’t work,” she snapped. Then she added in a conciliatory tone, apparently embarrassed, “Sorry, Alex. Please don’t worry about me.”
“Are you all right?”
“I don’t know. I can sense some kind of force inside me but I can’t work it out. I just don’t understand it.”
“How long has it been going on?”
“Ever since we were in the library on the Island of Oblivion. I didn’t sleep at all for the last few days. Every evening, I’m buzzing. I try to pace myself because God knows what I might do. Sorry, I can see you’re tired. Go to bed. I’ll stay here for a bit, okay?”
“I’d rather stay with you.”
“Do you think it might be my mind still processing the data? If they did indeed use alien technologies to build the Crystal Sphere, does that mean that this data could actually control the world?”
“I think you need some sleep. Would you like me to go to Platinus for some sleeping potion?”
She stood up abruptly. “That’s not a solution. Why is it I keep thinking about this quest?”
Once again she leaned over the book. The candles’ diffused glow struggled to disperse the soft evening twilight.
A bright throbbing light cast sharp shadows across the room, illuminating our faces.
The Staff of a Hydra — which had been sitting quietly in its custom-made stand across the room — turned translucent. The precious stone topping it had changed its color to an emerald green.
Enea turned to it in surprise. The autumnal aura of the Forest Nymph buff enveloped her.
I turned too. Could it be Lethmiel taking liberties? But no, there was no one else in these vaulted rooms. The doors were closed.
“Alex, what’s going on?”
“I’ve no idea. But... you’re so incredibly beautiful!”
“Wait,” embarrassed, she glanced in the mirror. “Who cast Forest Nymph on me?”
“Could it be the staff? It’s a natural artifact, after all.”
“Do you want to say it reacted to the quest we’d received?” Enea cast a meaningful glance at the picture we’d just been studying.
Lush greenery formed the building’s walls. A few moss-covered stone columns peeked through the paraphernalia of plants and gnarly branches.
“Don’t you think we’ve seen this picture before?” she asked.
“I haven’t. First time I see this.”
“Come on, use your imagination. Think of the inner courts here in Rion before we cleared them of all the greenery.”
“Yeah, sort of,” I agreed. “Only you can’t just grow some vines over castle ruins and call it a shrine!”
“That depends!” her eyes glinted. She appeared intoxicated on her own enthusiasm. “Wait... I know! I must be off now!”
“No, wait! I’m coming with you!”
“Please don’t! I must do it myself! I need to find some outlet for this weird force within me! See you in the morning!”
; A teleport whirled up, extinguishing the candles.
Both Enea and the Staff of a Hydra were gone.
Alpha — who still couldn’t get used to her constant mini-porting — fluttered out of the open window, flapping his wings angrily.
I walked out onto the balcony and looked down.
A weak green light flashed in one of the castle’s far-off inner courts.
We all harbor the need for self-fulfillment. Enea wasn’t an exception. I was the last person to stand in her way, even if just by over-protecting her.
If indeed her mind expander continued to process the data we’d received in the Temple of Oblivion, she might have come into possession of some new abilities she’d been subconsciously trying to achieve.
The flashes of green light became more frequent.
Suppressing my growing anxiety, I forced myself not to interfere. I walked back into the room and lay on the unmade bed, listening in to the crickets’ incessant chirping.
I was asleep before I knew it.
* * *
I awoke in the morning to the sentries’ screaming,
“Hydras! Goblins! Sound the alarm!”
The clan chat was about to explode with their hollering. It felt as if they were shouting right over my ear.
I sprang from the bed.
Enea hadn’t been back yet. I could sense the turmoil enveloping the castle with every fiber of my body. I’d never witnessed such a desperate unanimous panic before.
Mechanically I used my preferred spell which allowed me to port within direct line of sight. That was the quickest way to get to the balcony and take in the whole panorama of the castle premises.
I immediately saw the reason for all the commotion. A huge, absolutely enormous Ancient Hydra had just surfaced midstream and was now wading toward the castle surrounded by others not much smaller, raising giant waves in their wake.
I paused, peering at them.
The creatures’ tags were green. They were friends.
The Reapers (The Neuro 3) Page 13