“The same as the one that attacked me?” Fayana flinched back, fear in her eyes. “Don’t...”
“No, that was a supreme shadow, a predator,” I said, trying to assuage her. “I’ll summon a small one. It won’t bite unless I tell it to.”
Honestly, I wasn’t quite sure of that, but I couldn’t resist the temptation to kill two birds with one stone: fulfill the promise to Fayana and test my new ability.
“Curious. I’ve never heard about anything like that,” the Pioneer leader said. “Let’s try it, but I’ll call Bonus!”
The summoned shadow turned out to be pretty small—up to my knees, the size of a dog. I could control its actions and give it simple commands, similar to a familiar or a pet. In the material plane, the shadow looked like a dark smudge that kept changing shape. When I touched it, it felt like thick, pliant rubber. With my permission, the pet charged forward, attacking the Pioneers—I wanted to learn its combat potential. Unfortunately, it wasn’t high—Fayana and Bonus pushed it around the cargo hold for a few minutes, figuring out its damage, resistance values, and weaknesses.
“It’s nothing special,” the mapmaker said after everything was over and the creature melted into a pool of ectoplasm. “Low damage, mediocre resistances, around thirty each, weak to light. It has an odd ability to make itself denser, increasing physical defense for several seconds. I expected more!”
The Pioneers and I started running trials: I released various shadows on them, monitoring their strength in proportion to the ability level. A level zero shadow didn’t pose any threat in the material world, but starting with level four, its density and power markedly increased, making its structure harder and enhancing its resistances and physical defense. When it came to level seven, Fay and Bonus were unable to leave even a scratch on it—their weapons bounced back, as if the shadow were made of stone. Only magic, archetype skills, and enchanted weapons allowed them to defeat it—just barely. Out of breath, Fayana said, “How are you doing it? This creature’s far from simple. The only way to hurt it is light and air magic!”
I gave her a mysterious smile. Going by the description, a fully-leveled up summon could use items, meaning that nothing prevented me from empowering them with protective gear and weapons. The final entry read:
Summon Shadow (7/7): you can summon seven lesser shadows or one supreme shadow. Summon density: maximum. The shadow can use items and weapons from the material world. They will obey your commands, defend you, and fight on your side. 1 attempt/24 hours.
You have reached rank 4: Shadow Controller! Ability unlocked: Shadow Armor (0/10)
Shadow Armor (0/10): you can use one of the summoned shadows as your armor. The armor’s durability depends on the shadow’s attributes. It protects against effects of all types with the exception of mind magic. 1 attempt/24 hours.
I felt the thrill of excitement. I was just a few steps away from the fifth rank of the archetype, which would grant me a talent—a powerful ability usually surpassing the previous ones. What would it be?
I put ten points into Shadow Armor, one after another. Each new point allowed me to increase the number of layers by using the summoned shadows. In the end, it transformed into Shadow Aegis, an awesome defensive ability that slightly resembled the Greater Shield. It allowed me to use Shadow Armor to protect not only myself but also my companions.
The fifth and penultimate rank of the Proxy archetype gave me the title of Shadow Dominator, unlocking the first of the two hidden talents.
Shadow Transformation (0/15): you can transform your body using summoned shadows in the Shadow Plane. The extent of transformation depends on the level of ability.
Shut up! Going by the scant description, I could transform my body in the Shadow Plane as I pleased. Say, grow wings like Tormis...
I had only three attribute points left. With bated breath, I put all of them into the talent, watching the text change every time. Thrainul pulled me away from this process, having personally descended into the hold.
“You asked me to tell you when we’d pass by the Crown of Ice,” he grumbled. “You can relax. You have eight more hours. I’ll let you know.”
Interlude: The Bazaar
WHILE THE ABYSSAL WAS SAILING out of the Sea of Terror, I decided to leave the game and take a breather. Recent events had been happening at a frenetic pace, not giving me a minute to relax.
Fat chance! Sphere wasn’t going to let me out easily. I logged out, planning on taking a shower and napping, but the annoyingly buzzing communicator had other plans. The screen was full of notifications and other nuisances. I had blocked my personal messages, incoming mail, and clan channels during the battle with the Guardian, dealing with the Pandas, and exploring the Isle of Terror—constant comments distracted me from focusing on what was important.
What could transpire over two days to make me so indispensable to others? I was a bit unnerved by so much attention. With a heavy sigh, I started scrolling through my inbox, the new letters carefully forwarded by Sphere’s mail server straight from the game, and the log of missed calls.
The Jordi from Helt Akor (somehow, they had contacted their clan, who forwarded the message to me) reported that their camp was ready, as well as their processing laboratories. Ellurite mining was on track, with almost a thousand gallons already packed and ready for shipping. They were also demanding another caravan with supplies, the list enclosed: equipment, tools, construction materials, containers, reagents, freight mounts, golem workers. The lines with rations—a third of all requested supplies—were highlighted: beer, ale, undermountain moonshine, food, and, for some reason, musical instruments. Apparently, they decided to go all-out.
They also referred to me a different team of underground miners. Those guys were even willing to partially pay for guarding and transporting them through the Endless Paths.
I had to consider it. Of course, increasing the number of workers would speed up mining, but it meant additional expenses, not to mention leading the caravan through the elevators and keeping it alive. Also, the more people knew about the ellurite deposit, the quicker information about it would spread. Of course, getting to the cave required the ability to use Ancient mechanisms and knowing the right coordinates, but...as we had found out, Hird could do it, and they likely weren’t alone in that.
The next few letters were connected to the hunt Pandorum had declared on me. I skipped through the threats and various nonsense, making a note of Ran Dom’s message—he wanted to buy out his set armor and inquired about purchasing all stuff lost by Yota’s team. A reluctant smile appeared on my face—all of those items had to be transported out of the Hole first. The best the Pandas could hope for was getting a link to the auction lot.
I also liked Kesson’s message. The master thief I had met through the Dark Side wrote, Bro, have you seen the bounty on you? I dunno who you crossed, but mad respect, dude! Let’s pull a fast one on your cucks. The scheme is simple: I kill you, we get the reward and share the money. Everyone’s hunky-dory. Easy! What say you? Waiting for your confirmation!
Sorry Kesson, but I couldn’t do it. The scheme really was tried and true—for those who didn’t care about kill rating and lost experience. Five hundred gold per death was a large reward, even if split in half, but for me, it was nothing.
Spam, advertisements, letters from Diareus and Captain Panther, who wondered where I was and how soon I would come back, a small mailout from the Bazaar Gentlemen’s Club with insider information on upcoming trade wars, auction notes on sold items...
Two letters stood apart. The first was a touching missive from Weldy telling me that she had learned three new recipes of rare potions and become an apprentice alchemist. She was sheepishly wondering how soon she could return home. The second was a raging message from Komtur, in which he demanded I immediately make contact, threatening to kick me out of the clan if I didn’t.
Fine, fine, I’ll do it... Despite the late hour, the clan leader was still online. Our conversation left
me with mixed feelings. The clan—actually, the entire alliance—really needed my help. During my travels in the Hole, I had lost touch with the events in Dorsa, while they took a nasty turn.
A grandiose faction war was spreading throughout the continent. Ananizarte and her crew had assembled all forces of the House of Darkness and started a war against everyone. I smirked. What had gotten into her after the battle in the Astral plane? Their goal was conquering Dorsa and annihilating everyone who refused to swear fealty. That was a lofty aim; did they have the strength for it? However, the skeptics soon fell quiet, as the Lady’s troops moved at an impressive pace. In less than two weeks, they occupied the entire northwest of the continent, including four NPC Kingdoms and more than twenty provinces formerly belonging to player clans. Eleven castles and more than a hundred outposts were destroyed; the losses were horrific. The House of Darkness was preparing to march on the rich southern lands, mostly populated by players from the Phoenix alliance.
Overall, clashes between players and NPCs weren’t uncommon in Sphere. From time to time, reputation losses or changes in the Balance forced individual factions to declare war on clans, routing players from their lands. There were even precedents of attacks on outposts and clan strongholds. However, there had never been a war on such scale—a war that involved the population of an entire world, forcing players to migrate and triggering turf battles. Well, technically, it was the second case of all-out hostilities between players and NPCs, but people usually tried to avoid mentioning the Taerland incident that ended with the evacuation of all players and the flooding of the most populated world of that time.
The analysts of Phoenix and the Watchers observed the course of warfare and concluded that the secret to the House’s fast movement was portal magic. Common and Great Pentagrams could transport entire legions across thousands of leagues. That allowed the House to maintain their fast pace and appear in the places where nobody expected them. The NPCs used that ability both by themselves and through their vassal clans that comprised the coalition. According to our experts, the pentagrams lit often enough to require resupply from in-game markets. Actually, Dorsa’s local auction was already dry—most reagents had been sold out. So what did Komtur want from me? Simple—get my ass into gear and travel to the Bazaar to cut off the enemy supply. For this, I was given access to one of the clan accounts with an unlimited budget and a list of rituals with resources required to create portals.
Well, no rest for the wicked. Still, I couldn’t leave the Hole yet; my business there wasn’t finished. I decided to use my twink account, especially since it was already logged out at the Bazaar auction. I couldn’t buy everything without skill points in Trade, but it should be enough to monitor the market and do recon.
Portal magic was one of the best-held secrets in Sphere. Simply being given a screenshot with ingredients for a portal meant a high level of trust. Portal Master was an epic archetype; its requirements weren’t known to the public, and the owners usually concealed their abilities, as knowing how many of them were in a raid allowed the enemy to estimate its movement distance, route, and target. I used to know only basic information—but not anymore.
All right, so there were three kinds of portals—at least that’s how many screenshots I got. The first type was basic; it transported up to six creatures for no more than fifty leagues. The second ritual was the most popular one. This pentagram could fit an entire large raid and allowed it to jump up to a hundred and twenty leagues. Distance and cooldowns depended on skill level, but that was the maximum. The final portal was the so-called Great Pentagram. It had no limit on people and could transport them across thousands of leagues but required more than fifty various reagents, including epic and even legendary. Its price was exorbitant; when I calculated it, my jaw dropped. One casting cost almost a million gold! That was a pricy comfort. Portals also couldn’t be opened just anywhere—they required an artifact beacon brought by scouts to the correct spot.
From the looks of it, I wasn’t going to get any sleep that night. I logged in as my twink and started studying the subject. The Reds’ experts were also supposed to work the markets, but I still remembered two trade wars Zampotil had lost to me and didn’t hold my breath in regard to their skills.
Positions list, sales schedule, price development graph, personal information of hundreds of buyers and sellers for tracking down intermediaries—the auction could tell a lot if you knew how to read it. I singled out ten critical components of medium and large pentagrams and started systematically researching all available information. The longer I did that, the better I could see the big picture and the drearier it became. I checked my conclusions by asking a question on the Club’s channel and getting a confirmation. Some people there had made big bucks thanks to the increased demand.
In short, I didn’t have any good news for Komtur. There was no point in starting a trade war, as it had been lost about a week before. Nine-tenth of all ritual components, a half-year Bazaar supply, was bought out over two or three days, long before the Phoenix and Watchers analysts started to dig in that direction. We got beat to the punch—with plenty of time to spare. The money spent on even some of those ingredients amounted to tens of millions, and even the Bazaar market thought to be practically bottomless needed time to recover. There was only one conclusion: someone was preparing for something big.
And that someone wasn’t a clan from Dorsa or a minion of the House of Darkness. I had seen traces of their purchases, but next to that, they were insignificant. Someone else was pulling the strings of hundreds of merchants, auction representatives, resellers, and Bazaar suppliers.
Almost all ingredients, components, and reagents for portal magic were bought by players affiliated with or belonging to the Pandorum alliance. They weren’t even trying to hide, although that would have been hard, considering the scope of purchases. I checked all types of ellurite—common, red, and purified. They were also in demand, as ship fuel rose in price.
The Pandas were getting ready for war.
Chapter 19
IMPENETRABLE DARKNESS surrounded the ship, pierced only by beaming searchlights and the star of the Crown of Ice to the left of the broadside. The polished facets that looked toy like from the distance shimmered with the familiar iridescent glow. It was pretty far. Would we make it?
“Here it is, the Crown,” Thrainul said, pointing with his hand. “It will stay on the horizon for ten minutes or so. Did you want to get one last look?”
“Yep,” I said. “Where else would you see anything like that?”
For a few minutes, together with some of the crew and the Pioneers, I admired the Crown as it drifted by and then quietly approached the captain.
“How soon will we reach Ironguard?”
“We won’t go there,” Thrainul said, grinning. “There’s no point. We’ll get spotted; there are at least three Panda teams there looking for free ships. Can you guess who they’re hunting?”
“They still can’t give it a rest,” I said, sighing. “Then what will we do?”
“After a day, the Abyssal will reach the Spectral Archipelago. It’s a group of islands in the northeast. I’ve arranged a cargo barge to meet us there. Afterward...ah, you don’t need to know the details. In short, a third party will get our cargo to the Bazaar. The Pandorum lapdogs will send it upward themselves.”
“Are you sure it will work out?”
“Don’t fret. I do it all the time. Ironguard itself, its portal, and the next world are all controlled by Pandorum vassals. Their pets, basically. I’m pals with them. It’ll be OK. We’ll pack the cargo in such a way that nobody will have a clue.”
Thrainul was confident, coming off as the real deal. He wouldn’t betray me; I was a good enough judge of character to know that.
“Fine, then I’ll be off,” I warned him. “I don’t know how long I’ll stay on the ship. My job here is done. I might use a Soul Stone to leave anytime. Just in case—goodbye!”
“All right, t
hen. Adios! And good luck, Cat.”
I went downstairs into the hold and lay down in the coffin that already felt like home, closing the lid. But instead of activating Rest, I entered the Shadow Plane.
The twilight world, grey and soundless, shrouded everything around me. I opened my archetype tab and picked Shadow Transformation, the most intriguing talent I had. Going by the description, it allowed me to change my body using summoned shadows. I wanted to try it.
The first step was Shadow Summoning. I chose a small shadow, then another, and started figuring out how it all worked. Unlike other skills, it seemed non-intuitive.
Aha! A new option appeared in the shadow control menu: use for transformation. Upon clicking, it displayed a 3D paper doll of my character covered by a slew of red dots. By trial and error, I learned that clicking a dot opened a drop-down list with lots of customization options. Say, I could grow a shadow tendril, a tail, or something akin to an arm. It was a mini-constructor kit of a shadow body with a gazillion various spare parts. Each granted a new ability, ranging from increased density to the powerful Drain Essence. There were three anchor points available, equal to the attribute points I had put into the talent. The most destructive options were unavailable. Interesting... I spent several minutes studying the abilities I had. Developing that skill to the max probably allowed one to transform into a large shadow predator with all of its lethal endowments.
Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series Page 24