Viridian Gate Online: Darkling Siege (The Viridian Gate Archives Book 7)

by James Hunter

  Thankfully, that was an issue I could take care of. Maybe.

  Admittedly, I wasn’t much of a crafter, but Abby was hell on wheels at the forge, and I’d spent enough hours hanging around her while she worked to have a rough idea of what to do. With a grunt, I pulled some of the slack from the chain, hauling the links up hand over hand, then laying them flat across the rafter. I licked my lips, hands trembling in uncertainty as I scooted back a few paces and conjured Umbra Flame, drenching the links with unnatural fire—silently praying the rafter could hold up against the brutal heat.

  “Whatever you’re going to do, do it quickly,” Amara growled, continuing to loose shafts at the Horror.

  “This isn’t an exact science,” I grumbled under my breath. Exact science... more like trying to fry an egg with a blowtorch.

  After twenty or so seconds, I cut the flames. A section of chain glowed red hot. I pulled free my hammer, lined up my shot, and struck, triggering Crush Armor as the blunt face landed with a thunderous clang. I looked down and couldn’t help but grin. One of the links was crushed and twisted, creating an opening just large enough to disconnect the service lift from the rest of the chain. And Abby always said I had no skill as a crafter—well, this was some high-level, on-the-fly crafting if I’d ever seen it. With a thought, I brought up my inventory and pulled out a waterskin, which I promptly upended on the metal, conjuring a plume of white steam.

  Not perfect, but it would have to do. “Can you get this wrapped around its throat?” I asked Amara, keeping my voice low. The Horror didn’t have any discernable ears, but I still didn’t want to risk alerting the monster prematurely. “It’ll need to be tight, and you’ll need to keep it in place for a solid thirty seconds or more.”

  She stowed her bow and grabbed the newly freed length of chain, inspecting it with a keen eye before nodding. “Not an easy request, but yes. I can do this.”

  “Okay, just wait for my word,” I grunted.

  Working fast, I got up onto my hands and knees and carefully crawled across the rafter until I was directly over the crank wheel below. Under normal circumstances, that wheel would raise and lower the service platform, allowing the Vogs to more easily move the siege equipment, but for now I had a different use in mind.

  Glancing back over my shoulder, I hollered, “Now!”

  Chain in hand, Amara crouched, backflipped off the rafter with peerless grace, and landed as gently as an alley cat on the Horror’s back. The creature felt her at once and responded by rearing up, arms straining to reach her. But the creature couldn’t. Its arms, though powerful, were too muscular to allow it to reach. Previously, the quills had protected its back, but without them it was vulnerable. Amara dropped down and hooked one arm around the mantis-like appendage sprouting from the Horror’s left shoulder—an anchor point to keep her in place while it raged. With her other arm, she looped the chain around the creature’s head—once, twice, three times—then yanked down hard, metal biting into fur and flesh.

  It was now or never, and I just hoped I was strong enough to do what needed doing.

  I grabbed hold of the chain leading from a pulley to the crank wheel and slid down, ankles interlocked. The second my feet touched the floor I grabbed hold of the wooden spokes and began turning. The chain went taut as the noose of metal tightened around the Horror’s throat. Maybe this thing had impenetrable skin, but most creatures needed to breathe, and strangulation was a very real way to die in V.G.O., I knew from experience. The wheel clicked, and the creature lurched up half a foot.

  Blunt fingers groped at the chain wrapped around its throat, but it was no use.

  I turned the wheel again, grunting and heaving with the effort. Click. The wheel locked into place thanks to a ratcheting mechanism, and the creature lurched upward. One of the Bastards—a stocky Cutthroat with greasy brown hair and only one eye—rushed over, throwing his weight against the wheel as I continued to work, muscles shaking, sweat streaming down my face from the effort. My Stamina bar was plunging fast, but we were making progress. Another foot. Click. And another still. The Gatehouse Horror was tall, but after a few more turns of the enormous wheel, pulling the chain tighter and tighter, it couldn’t keep its hind feet on the floor.

  Another two turns and the Horror’s oversized padded feet hung freely, its body swaying. The pulleys above groaned from the strain, and the wood beams bowed from the Horror’s weight, but they held. The creature bucked and fought, kicking its legs and clawing at its throat, but the chain was doing what an entire roomful of high-level adventurers had been unable to: kill this thing. Its HP tumbled, dwindling toward zero at a satisfying rate. Induced Suffocation was a hell of a thing. After thirty or forty seconds, its fruitless struggles slowed, its arms and legs finally going limp as its HP bottomed out and the last bit of life faded from the Boss.

  A ding in my ear let me know I’d just leveled up, but I dismissed the notice without looking since I had bigger things to worry about.

  I disengaged the ratcheting mechanism, and the Horror dropped like a stone, landing on the floor with a meaty thud. Amara quickly unwrapped the chain from the creature’s bloated throat and dusted her hands as she planted one foot on the Horror in triumph—a big game hunter standing over her kill. I paid her only half a mind, focusing instead on what I needed to do next.

  “The portcullis!” I barked, abandoning the smaller of the crank wheels in favor of the larger wheel, which operated the gate. With trembling arms, shaking from exhaustion, I grabbed onto the protruding handholds and threw my shoulder against the wheel with a grunt. The gears cranked to life, the pulleys squealing as the huge chain retracted, this time raising the portcullis upward with a squeal instead of lifting the Gatehouse Horror from its feet. The stocky Cutthroat who’d help me hang the Horror caught on quickly enough and lent a hand, significantly lightening the load.

  Cutter—never one for unnecessary manual labor, the true bane of his existence—merely watched from a few feet off, cleaning blood from his hands with a strip of cloth.

  Finally, the portcullis settled into place. A pair of levers protruding from the floor controlled the fortified doors, and after only a few seconds of trial and error, the great gates were open to the world.

  And, more importantly, to our raiding force.

  I edged up to the wall and glanced down through one of the narrow windows, a grim smile on my face as the Legionnaires poured in like sand through a sieve. The fighting was far from over—taking an occupied city wasn’t a quick process—but we’d just shattered their main defense. It would be a downhill battle from here.

  WE TOOK THE EXTRA TIME to mop up the room and loot both the Vogthar dead and the Idruz Gatehouse Horror. It was always possible one of them would have a key or some other crucial item we’d end up needing down the road.

  Unfortunately, the regular Vog guards yielded nothing overtly useful and the Gatehouse Horror wasn’t much better.

  There were no physical items on the nightmarish creature, which was extremely disappointing considering how tough the fight had been, but it did drop a handful of gold coins. Those I happily gave to the Bastards for their assistance with the kill. On instinct, I decided to take a few minutes to harvest the body properly, figuring there had to at least be some quality crafting ingredients. Amara gave me a hand with the task—her blade sharp, her hands steady. Cutter and his crew secured the rest of the gatehouse proper, clearing each room, then establishing security checkpoints while a group of Alliance engineers swooped in to patch the holes in the outer walls.

  We didn’t want Thanatos pulling the same trick on us if he launched a counterassault.

  Even with Amara’s help, carving up the Horror took a solid ten minutes, but I got a fair number of rare ingredients for my trouble. We harvested the thick, fur-covered pelt and carved off the black metal plates, which Amara insisted would make some excellent armor if I could get the items into the hands of a crafter worth their salt. The odd, compound eye went into my bag along with th
e scorpion tail, a number of venom sacks, and a black heart the size of a human skull. My Herblore wasn’t nearly high enough to discern their various uses or value, but I figured Vlad would appreciate the find. He’d probably be able to cook up something nasty with them.

  For lending me a hand, Amara cut away both of the scythe-like limbs, depositing them into her inventory, insisting they would make amazing weapons with just a little bit of work.

  Once that grisly business was done, I reviewed my gains and distributed the points I’d just earned for capturing the objective.

  <<<>>>

  x1 Level Up!

  You have (5) undistributed stat points

  You have (1) unassigned proficiency point

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Acrobatics

  Skill Type/Level: Passive/Level 9

  Cost: None

  Effect 1: -7% Fall damage.

  Effect 2: +7% less Stamina Fatigue while jumping or performing aerial maneuvers.

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Blunt Weapons

  Skill Type/Level: Active/Level 19

  Cost: None

  Effect: Increases blunt weapon damage by 41%; increases blunt weapon attack rate by 10%.

  <<<>>>

  Skill: Medium Armor

  Skill Type/Level: Passive/Level 11

  Cost: None

  Effect 1: 25% increased base armor rating while wearing Medium Armor.

  Effect 2: +8% additional increased base armor rating for every piece of Medium Armor worn.

  <<<>>>

  Subspecialty: Champion of Order

  Ability Type/Level: Passive/Level 7

  Cost: None

  Effect 1: All Champion of Order-based skills and abilities are increased by 2.5% per Champion of Order Level (Current Level 7: 17.5%).

  Effect 2: Luck stat increases by one point for every (2) Champion of Order Levels (Current Level 7: +3 to Luck).

  Effect 3: You have (1) unassigned Divinity Point.

  <<<>>>

  Not too shabby.

  The five attribute points were a no-brainer. Three points into Intelligence, raising my overall Spell Strength, one into Dexterity, and the last into Strength. Up until now, I’d been focusing heavily on Spirit, but my Spirit pool and Spirit regen rate were now so high that I almost never ran the risk of running out—especially not with the ready access I had to Regen potions. Happy with my choices, I hit accept and surveyed the tweaks I’d made to my character sheet.

  <<<>>>

  <<<>>>

  SURPRISINGLY, I’D ALSO leveled my Champion of Order subspecialty for the first time since killing the Lich Priest in the Realm of Order, earning a new Divinity Point to divvy out. I’d picked up every skill in the Champion Tree except Word of Order, so taking the final skill in the set was an easy choice.

  <<<>>>

  <<<>>>

  SKILL: Word of Order

  Channel the Divine essence of Sophia and let your voice become the power of Order itself. Speak with the voice of an Overmind and unleash a wave of raw force, blasting any enemy that stands in your path while simultaneously rejuvenating those who serve the Balance. Have care, though, for the pendulum of balance swings both ways, and all magic has its price...

  Skill Type/Level: Spell/Initiate

  Cost: 50 Spirit

  Range: 20-meter cone from caster

  Cast Time: Instant

  Cooldown: 20 minutes

  Duration: 30 seconds

  Effect 1: Spirit damage for 160% of Spell Strength on contact to all enemies in a 20-meter cone in front of caster. No hand requirement to cast!

  Effect 2: 9% chance to Stun enemies in Area of Effect; Attack damage -15%; Stamina Regeneration reduced by 30%; movement speed reduced by 35%; duration, 1 minute.

  Effect 3: 9% chance to Reinvigorate allies in Area of Effect; Attack damage +15%; Stamina Regeneration increased by 30%; movement speed increased by 35%; duration, 1 minute.

  Order’s Price: 25% chance of suffering the Mute debuff, which prevents you from casting all spells; duration, 1 minute.

  <<<>>>

  Even at the Initiate level, Word of Order did decent Spell damage, and the added Stun and Rejuvenate were a nice touch. The 25% chance of muting myself for a solid minute was a potentially steep price to pay, so it probably wouldn’t be in my regular offensive lineup, but since it didn’t require my hands to cast and only cost a mere 50 Spirit, it had great potential as an ace up the sleeve, so to speak. It was always nice to have a few reserve abilities that you could bring out when things were looking especially grim.

  There was still the matter of the single outstanding Proficiency Point, but I wasn’t nearly as sure what to do with that one. I pulled up my Shadowmancer Skill Tree, rubbing a hand through my hair as I considered my options.

  <<<>>>

  <<<>>>

  AS A SHADOWMANCER, I’d unlocked every skill in my class tree, including my ultimate ability, Shadow Lord, which gave me access to the Path of the Shadow-Warp Portal. At level 51, I’d invested a Proficiency Point in Umbra Bog, bringing it up to Specialist level, but Umbra Bolt was also currently at level five. A small part of me wanted to go and drop the point into a non-class exclusive skill—maybe something in the Medium Armor or Blunt Weapons skill tree—but deep down, I knew that wasn’t the right choice. No, the best use of points at this juncture was to push as many of my Shadowmancer skills as possible up to the Grandmaster level.

  At the Grandmaster level—max level—each ability gained a new and rather potent effect. What exactly the effect was depended entirely on the skill itself, and so far, the list of Grandmaster effects on the public Wikis was incredibly slim. Not totally shocking since elevating even a single skill to the Grandmaster level took a lot of blood, sweat, and Proficiency Points. Besides, most people probably weren’t too keen on giving out their hard-earned secrets without an awfully good reason.

  So far, I’d unlocked the Grandmaster level for both Shadow Stride and—thanks to a little help from Eitri Spark-Sprayer—Shadow Lord. Both had been game changing. The Grandmaster effect for Shadow Stride allowed me to pull someone else into the Shadowverse with me when I slipped between realms. As for Shadow Lord, if Eitri hadn’t helped me hit the Grandmaster level as part of a quest reward, I never would’ve been able to create my Shadow-Warp Portals, which was probably the most versatile and powerful skill in my arsenal. Therefore, the most logical choice was to drop a point into either Umbra Bolt or Umbra Bog.

  And between the two of those, it was really no choice at all.

  Admittedly, Umbra Bolt was an amazing ability—and one I used frequently—but I had a ton of individual offensive spells. Umbra Bog was one of only a few AoE spells that I had at my disposal, and its effects were incredibly powerful. I added the point to Umbra Bog, bringing it up to the Master level. Just one more point to go before I got to see what awesome new effect waited for me.

  I closed out of my interface, took a last look around the gore-spattered room, then headed for a reinforced hatch that let out onto the ramparts. A whip-thin Night Blade with reedy blond hair and skin like old boot leather waved me through, offering me a conspiratorial nod before closing the door behind me. I slipped out onto a small landing with a set of narrow stairs that took me to directly to the walls overlooking the city.

  Shading my eyes with one hand, I glanced up, searching the skies for any sign of Devil. Nothing, though that didn’t really mean much. I could feel him out there, alive and happy as a pig in mud. He probably had a full belly and a pile of bodies to his name. The Hellreaver, I saw, had retreated away from the city and now floated off in the distance, cannons locked on the walls, Gatling guns trained on the sky. Ready for anything. Not that either was really necessary at this point. With the gatehouse in our control, we’d easily taken the walls, and most of the aerial fighting had already died off.

  Accipiters still dotted the skies in places, and several Imperial Griffin Rider squadrons flew holding patterns, but there was no sign of the Abami.
The Vogthar Drakes were likewise gone—probably dust in the wind at this point.

  I leaned against the wall, the icy stone unnaturally cold against my palms, and scanned the city below.

  There were signs of violence everywhere: black blood splashed across cobblestones and bodies piled up against buildings—mostly Vogthar, though more than a few were human. The human casualties always hurt to look at. Any Travelers that died would instantly be sent for respawn back in Eldgard, leaving little trace of their deaths beyond, but the bodies down there painted a different, more depressing picture. Either those were Citizens—untimely cut down by enemy blades—or they were former Travelers who’d fallen to Malware weapons. In either case, they weren’t coming back.

  And that? That was at least partially on me, a constant weight to bear.

  Farther on, the city was in flames, thick trails of black and gray rising up like chimney smoke, carrying the scent of burning meat instead of smoldering wood. On the frozen fields outside the city, our siege weapons had finally fallen silent. Our engineers couldn’t risk firing the weapons into the city proper, not with our forces scattered through the grid-like streets, clearing each building in turn. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot going on. Clerics had already set up triage areas to help the wounded, while the siege engineers either serviced their weapons or prepared to move them.

  A number of the deadly contraptions would be deployed to defend Idruz, since it would be acting as our stronghold over the days and weeks ahead. Others would be prepped for the final assault against the Necropolis.

  I watched, lips pressed into a thin line, as a group of Legionnaires in their Roman-looking lorica armor—segmented, overlapping leather plates in dark reds and blacks—burst out of a columned home with a flat-top roof, dragging a particularly small Vogthar between them. Huh. That was odd. Fingers tightening on the wall, I squinted, brow knitting as I tried to get a better look. The creature was tiny, shorter even than a Dwarf, but had a slight frame, pale skin, and just the nubs of horns poking up from its head.