by James Hunter
“On my mark, both of you will step out of the sacred circle, into the darkness of the ancestral forest, and seek out the grave of Isra Spiritcaller, which has been marked on your map.” A popup appeared:
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Map Update
Congratulations! Your in-world map has been updated with a new location: Grave of Isra Spiritcaller.
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I pulled up my area map and saw the sacred cavern laid out before me in fine detail. Though the majority of the cavern was roughly a giant circle, several branching caverns broke off from the main chamber, snaking deeper into the earth. One such passage, which looked like a twisted labyrinth of switchbacks, dead ends, and interconnected tunnels, led to a much smaller chamber marked with a little quest triangle: Grave of Isra Spiritcaller. Even with the map available to me, I could already tell this Thunderdome-inspired footrace was going to be a nightmare—especially if these Watcher things were as tricky and cunning as Chief Kolle said.
“On my mark,” Chief Dao bellowed as I closed out of my interface. She held up a nubby-fingered hand, and a ball of shadowy purple light coalesced into her palm. An Umbra Bolt. “Begin.” She unleashed the conjured spell, which streaked up and away like fireworks on a clear night. Chakan shot forward like an arrow, his armor-clad legs pumping as he disappeared into the trees, quickly swallowed by both the gloom and the dense greenery. I pulled the warhammer from the leather frog at my belt and slipped out of the comforting light of the sacred circle and into the thick tangles of vegetation.
I broke into a slow jog, squeezing between a pair of squat trees loaded down with green melons, ducked under some low-hanging vines, then skirted around a few moss-covered rocks jutting up from the ground. I’d only gone ten or fifteen feet, but when I looked back toward the clearing, I couldn’t find it—not even a glimmer from the emerald fire bled through the mass of tree trunks and leaves. The dark pressed down on me, as though it were a living thing that could sense my anxiety. The utter silence surrounding me only made the jittery panic surging through me worse. Instead of a fantasy-based game, this forest felt more like one of the old, horror-style VR games I’d played before the whole world went belly up.
I readjusted my grip on the hammer—my palm slick from nervous sweat—then headed deeper into the strange wilderness, checking my map every few minutes to make sure I was going in the right direction. I hadn’t seen Chakan since he’d set off from the clearing, but I had a gnawing suspicion he was ahead of me, how could he not be? Even with my Night Eye ability, navigating the dark forest was a pain. Exposed roots, partially hidden by small shrubs and fallen leaves, constantly grabbed at my boots, tripping me up, while clinging vines somehow managed to slip around my arms or slap me in the face.
Then, to top it off, I had to keep checking the map because the place was so disorienting.
It occurred to me that I could save a lot of time by Shadow Striding most of the way. Sure, it would eat up my Spirit supply, and I’d have to deal with the thirty-five-second cooldown timer once I emerged back into the real world, but it would still give me a leg up, especially since Chakan wouldn’t have access to the same skill as a Shadow Knight. In the world of the Shadow Templars, Shadow Knights were sort of the Jack of all trades—they got access to a few skills from each of the various kit specialties.
But Shadow Stride? That was a Shadowmancer exclusive.
I focused my ever-growing supply of Spirit, feeling a wave of cold power build in my chest, then triggered the spell, breathing out a sigh of relief as time ground to a halt and the color drained from the forest, leaving the world in shades of muted gray and sterile white, augmented by occasional splashes of shimmering purple. I twirled in a slow circle, grinning like an idiot, then set out for the tomb. Aside from slowing time, Shadow Stride also made the trek much, much easier.
Though I could pass through monsters and other players while in the Shadowverse, natural objects like trees, walls, and rocks stayed firmly in place—apparently, those things existed within both realms—but it was easier to see, which made a big difference. I emerged from the Shadowverse not quite a minute later, pulled up my map, readjusted course, then hoofed it for another thirty-five seconds before stepping back into the Shadowverse. Though I never spotted Chakan—the forest was almost impossibly big, especially for being inside a cavern—I was making great time and felt confident I’d get to the horn before he did.
I was only about fifty feet out from the edge of the cavern wall and the entrance to the warren of tunnels when I activated Shadow Stride for the tenth time. I waited patiently as time skidded to an abrupt stop, then stepped forward into the Shadowverse filled with purpose, confidence, and just a smidge of smugness. I slipped over a downed log and hopped across a small stream burbling along, minding its own business, then scrambled up a grassy hill dotted with colorful snapdragons.
My steps faltered a second later. My confidence and self-assurance vanished like a puff of smoke in a strong breeze.
The cavern wall loomed high before me, a fissure scarring the rock face. That, I knew, had to be the entrance to the passageway housing Isra and the horn. Unfortunately, a pair of monstrous twisting trees flanked the craggy entrance; their huge roots ran over the ground like a brood of snakes while thick boughs—covered in broad leaves and green melons—reached eagerly for a nonexistent sky. Fruit wasn’t the only thing loitering on those branches, though. A host of glassy yellow eyes stared at me from the boughs, though the creatures they belonged to were cloaked in shadow and nearly invisible.
These had to be the Watchers. What were they doing in the Shadowverse, though?
I paused on the edge of the tree line and glanced left then right, searching for some other way to access the tunnel or, at the very least, some cover to hide behind while moving. There was only one way forward, however, and aside from a few low scrub brushes and a spattering of flowers, there was all of jack-squat. I conjured Shadow Armor while nestled in the safety of the trees; ribbons of violet shadow exploded around me, running over every inch of my body like a weightless second skin. A little popup appeared on the edge of my vision—a countdown timer—which I promptly ignored.
With that done, I took a single deep breath, dropped into Stealth, and stole forward on silent feet. My hands trembled as I moved, the warhammer quivering minutely while nervous sweat rolled down my back, running between my shoulder blades. My Stealth ability, though not nearly as good as Cutter’s, was currently sitting at level 11, and with my augmented boost as a Shadowmancer, I had a 41% chance to hide from enemies. Not half bad. Plus, I’d invested another point into the Camouflage ability, which increased my odds of blending into my surroundings to 30%.
With any luck, I’d slip right past these things without ever having to raise my hammer in defense. Fingers crossed—metaphorically, of course.
I crept closer and closer, watching the army of unwavering yellow eyes, carefully picking the quickest route through the brush and scrub covering the ground. The creatures didn’t seem to notice. I stole five feet, then paused, waiting anxiously. Three more, then another pause as I scanned the trees. I took a hitching breath and padded another few feet. I was within spitting distance of the tunnel mouth when a combat notification popped up:
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Stealth failed! You are being directly observed by hostile parties.
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I dismissed the notice as a wail of animal shrieks, high-pitched and warbling, ripped through the air, and creatures dropped from the trees like falling leaves. They were ape-like beings, similar to the Spore Apes we’d battled out front, though smaller and more agile—chimps instead of gorillas. And instead of spore-covered bodies, they had sleek night-black fur, talon-tipped fingers, and flat leathery faces with slanted violet eyes. Interestingly, they also had sleek black raven wings poking up from their backs.
[Void Watchers]
The tag briefly flared over one of their heads before vanishing, but all I could think was Winged Monkeys.
Just like the Wicked Witch had in The Wizard of Oz. Assuming the winged monkeys from Oz had been rabid meth-heads juiced up on steroids. For a long, tense beat, we just stood there staring at each other. Me crouched and edgy like an animal backed into a corner, them bold and vicious like a pack of junkyard dogs.
The moment was fleeting, though, and before I could do anything—turn, attack, run, think—they rushed me, sprinting on all fours, blunt teeth bared in ferocious snarls of rage. I darted forward, whipping my left hand out, calling on Umbra Bog, praying I could pin them down before they got airborne. Tendrils of nearly sentient magic burst from the grass underfoot, flailing and flapping at the air, wrapping around a handful of the encroaching creatures. But most of the chimps simply disappeared, blinking out of existence right before my eyes. Poof, gone in a swirl of inky smoke.
I stared, dumbfounded, unsure what had happened or why. After a few seconds, though, I coaxed my legs back into motion.
That Umbra Bog would only hold for so long, and I couldn’t afford to waste time standing around, twiddling my thumbs, and searching for answers. I closed the distance in seconds and lashed out—my warhammer in one hand, an Umbra Bolt burning in the other. The creatures, though mired by my spell, fought back with an insatiable ferocity: curled fists flew, razor-sharp talons flashed, blunt teeth snapped, and feathered wings fluttered madly. They were quick, though not quite quick enough. I moved like living water, dodging incoming blows, parrying wild strikes, slipping between enemies while my hammer twirled, smashing exposed skulls or snapping vulnerable limbs.
In a handful of seconds, several of the apes lay dead, their bodies broken and stained with purple blood, but a few still had some fight left. I sidestepped a wild swipe by an exceptionally large chimp and dipped below a lightning-quick jab as I spun my weapon, ready to deliver the killing blow—
A flash of pain shot through my neck as something hit me squarely in the back of the head.
I twirled, coming face to face with a chimp who’d materialized out of thin air. Something—no, two somethings—threw themselves around my legs, clinging tightly as blunt teeth bit down like angry piranhas, ripping through my fortified leather leggings with ease, drawing bright red blood and dropping my HP by a tenth. Another Hell Chimp materialized in puff of soot, then threw itself into my gut like a linebacker, lanky arms wrapping around my middle. I staggered and fought to stay upright, but with my legs weighted down, I didn’t have the raw strength to manage it.
I keeled over, arms pinwheeling, and hit the ground like a sack of bricks—all the air rushing out of me in a whoof as stars swam across my vision. Thankfully, Umbra Bog was still holding strong, but more of the chimps poured into existence by the second, literally dropping from the sky like conjured rain. They swarmed over me while I lay helpless and vulnerable on the ground. I bucked my body and kicked my legs, struggling frantically to dislodge the hairy critters, but they held tight with urgent, ferocious strength.
I screamed as more teeth sank through my armor, digging into the flesh beneath while tearing claws joined the fray, slashing home with devastating effect, each hit slicing off another chunk of HP. Not a lot of HP, not individually, but collectively, they were wearing me down. Another ape, this one easily twice the size of the others, shuffled into view. It stared at me with cruel, calculating eyes. A twinge of connection, of familiarity, rushed through me—I’d felt this once before. When binding Devil. The creature, though, broke its gaze as it bent over and picked up a jagged rock from the ground.
Boss Chimp barked something, its speech harsh and unintelligible, but all of the lesser apes ceased their struggling, holding me still and in place as their leader hefted the stone high overhead and waddled over to me, its wings flexing as it moved. I continued to fight, but there wasn’t anything I could do, and there was no question in my mind what was coming next: this monster was going to cave my head in. I gritted my teeth as the creature loomed above me and the rock fell—
EIGHT: Spiritcaller’s Horn
A blast of smoke engulfed me seconds before the rock landed as my Shadow Stride countdown clock flashed and the Shadowverse vomited me back into the Material Plane. I was still on my back, the grass pressed flat beneath me, but there was no sign of the Void Watchers. Just a small empty clearing with a couple of twisted trees standing watch over the jagged crevice gouged into the cavern wall. They were some variation of Void Terror, then—creatures like Devil, who dwelled in the dark regions of the Shadowverse, but were unable to cross over into the material realm without a Shadowmancer first binding and summoning them.
God, that had been close. A lucky break for me.
I breathed a shuddering sigh of relief, my hands roving over my body with a will of their own, checking for any serious damage. I had a wide array of scrapes, cuts, deep bite wounds, and what felt like a few bruised ribs, but no debuffs. I laughed, a sharp wheezing sound that hurt my chest, then snagged a Regen potion from a pouch at my belt and downed the thing in a single gulp. I lay there for a second longer, letting the potion do its work—mending puncture wounds and knitting skin back together—before gaining my feet and hastily scrambling toward the tunnel entryway.
I’d only moved a few paces when the hellish screech of shadowy chimps sounded behind me. Slowly, I turned. I watched in mute horror as the chimps, one after another, phased into the material realm, accompanied by a swirl of murky obsidian. The very same thing happened when I triggered my Shadow Stride ability. I backpedaled, keeping my gaze fixed on the leader—the Boss Watcher, still clutching the jagged rock—while the wheels in my head whirled away. The Void Terrors I’d seen so far were all unique, and each type had its own special set of skills and abilities, like Devil’s Shadow Flame or his ability to fly.
Suddenly it all made sense. The way these things had popped in and out of existence during our battle royal … the way they could be here, when, by all rights, they should’ve been confined to the Shadowverse … Their unique skill was Shadow Stride. They could walk between the realms, just like me.
Oh crap.
More popped into existence, until a small army, thirty deep, was arrayed before me in a loose semicircle, purple eyes squinted, scowls littering their faces as feathered wings rustled. I edged back another few steps, then raised my hands and called up my own minion. I let loose a burst of pure Spirit as my mind and will reached across the void and called to my familiar, summoning Devil from wherever he was currently cooling his reptilian heels. A cloud of shadow power and the heady scent of burning wood and charred meat rolled out like a wave.
When it dissipated a moment later, my monstrous lizard, in all his formidable and awesome glory, was ready and waiting. Devil sported a lithe, reptilian body, easily twenty-five feet long from snout to tail-tip, covered in black scales and studded with gleaming spears of bone running along his back. His wings—a purple so deep they were nearly black and laced with delicate blue veins—sat folded along his sides, though he could take flight in a moment if the need arose. His sinuous neck supported a thick, sleek head, a little larger than a horse’s, with wicked spikes jutting from the back of his skull like a crown.
Devil was a tank, almost a force of nature, but a sliver of worry wormed its way through my gut. He was tough, but far from indestructible—Carrera had one-shotted him in the battle for Rowanheath, and Cutter, Amara, and I had managed to subdue him back in the Darkshard Mine. Though barely. I had no doubt Devil could take any of these creatures—even the big, bad, boss chimp—in a one-on-one brawl, but these things were pack animals, and there were a lot of them.
Buy me as much time as you can, I sent, along with a mental image of myself sprinting through the crevice in the wall. But don’t die here. If you get low on health, take wing and get some distance. I’ll be back as soon as I can.
The great beast turned his head toward me, his violet eyes—all six of them—narrowed as inky lips pulled away from jagged teeth like broken pieces of obsidian. I don’t flee, he sent back, thoughts lace
d with contempt. I am a Void Drake—others flee before me.
Still, I replied, canting my head, if you think you might die, I want you to go. Just fly away to somewhere safe. Understood? That last wasn’t a question, it was a statement of expectation. And if that won’t work, I can always recall you to the Shadowverse.
He stared at me, defiance etched into the lines of his body. Our little stalemate only lasted for a heartbeat, but it was a tense one.
Eventually, though, Devil dipped his head in acknowledgment, then turned toward the simian Void Watchers, who were cautiously scampering forward, supremely unsure about the giant doom lizard. The Drake bellowed a defiant, ground-shaking roar accompanied by a column of blistering-hot shadow flame. Several chimps fell back, shrieking in pain as the fire washed over black fur and scorched oversized raven wings. Instead of retreating, though, the rest of the chimps bolted forward, swarming Devil like a pack of hungry wolves going in for the kill.
I did notice, however, that the boss chimp lingered toward the rear, eyeing the Drake with a mix of begrudging pride and cunning-hate.
The flame died away, but Devil was only getting started. He whipped his head left then right, using his spiked skull like a wrecking ball—swatting unlucky Void Watchers into the air like pop flies. Another chimp lunged from the front, lashing out with dirt-caked talons, but Devil snaked his head around just in time to catch the creature in crushing jaws, obliterating the ape in a single bite. But there were so many of them, and in next to no time, they encircled him, scurrying up his legs and sides in droves.
I wanted to stay, to fight, to help, but that would defeat the purpose. Devil was only a temporary stopgap measure, buying me a little time, but that wouldn’t last. Eventually, these things would overwhelm him, then they’d come for me. And I couldn’t forget that Chakan was still out here somewhere, gunning for the horn, just like me. Reluctantly, I turned away and raced toward the narrow gap leading to Isra’s tomb. I stole one last look at Devil—now covered in Void Watchers—and slipped into the rock face, wiggling my way into the passageway.