Thank you, Mr. Obvious.
Ayla Frost: I think we got that part. Just hurry!
Jonathan certainly felt the hurry here, he dared to joke. Humor sometimes helped him in dire situations. Like when he had been the only tank left alive in the black dragon raid.
He was still aimlessly soaring through Greenwood Spine looking for that Red Dragon lair. Because if the quest reward was an alliance or aid from the red dragons, then this detour would be well worth the investment. Even a unique dragon-themed weapon would be worth it. This could turn out to be the wisest decision he’d make in Aeon Chronicles.
The guilds will handle it, Jonathan decided. He was one additional Paladin among thousands of mid to high-level players. The guilds had diverted significant resources from the two raids to combat this threat. The king as well.
Ayla Frost: Holy shit, something invisible completely blocked and mitigated our ballista.
Jonathan offered a comment for once as he took in the empty mountain range.
Jon Bladestrider: The king said Demon-Knight is a tank class. It’s probably Zaine with a T9 or even T10 stealth.
Ayla Frost: A T8 tank boss??? Do you know how much health and defense they have?
Yeah. A million points with very high resistances and armor without gear in the king’s case. This was truly a doomsday scenario. Lapsed veteran players should be logging back in any second now… Any second.
Jonathan breathed in his bubble of calm air and upped the speed of his Light Shard. The mountains below passed in a haze. No red dragons—or lair entrances —showed themselves in the snow and rock. Hide-and-seek had to be part of the challenge.
Lance Rider: Understood. Group portals channeling.
Ayla Frost: Those vehicles were transforming catapults! One just chunked the shield for 30k! There’s a bunch of walking voodoo dolls constructing stuff. HURRY!
LeMort found a new skill? The thought of a LeMort who could command voodoo-styled minions was… frightening. That’d make three summoner-type classes including Zaine. Not good. This was beyond the worst-case-scenario. This was hell on Aeon, a tsunami of demonic crap hitting the Water Mage Spire.
Lance Rider: Calm down, please. We’re channeling portals as fast as we can. Dorian and many casters should be there in a minute.
Lance Rider: King’s coming. He waiting on a group portal channel though. He’s a Paladin.
Good news. Finally. The channel would take twenty minutes at most.
Ayla Frost: Huuuuurrrrrrrrryyyyyyyy! Those catapults are shredding the shield. There's like fifteen of them. Not a single ballista is getting through.
Grant BossMan: The Crave guys should be there.
Ayla Frost: Those dolls were building shield generators… they’re up now. Covering their whole line. It’s over.
Lance Rider: Please, remain calm. The king, the imperial guard, half a thousand players, and blessed NPCs are on their way.
Ayla Frost: Something is happening. The sky just went dark. It’s cracking like glass.
Okay—enough was enough.
Jonathan had chosen his path and he needed to walk it to the end without getting distracted by a demonic apocalypse. Even if the Water Mage Spire had just been leveled to the ground, this was now his mission: securing the red dragon quest rewards. And he didn’t need to announce false hope to the guild either. It was his highly personalized quest triggered by a highly personal memory.
He closed the Alliance Chat and pumped every last ray of Light Mana in his blood into the Light Shard, boosting its natural speed several-fold. It was a true marvel of ancient crafting—knowledge long lost to the corruption and taint of darkness.
Sharp worry dug into his neck, the lives of several thousand NPCs living at the Water Mage Spire flashing before his eyes. He knew a few of them personally. They were good people. Even if they were just weak-AI.
Jonathan hardened his jaw and searched for that red dragon lair like the future of this game depended on it. Because it did. Aeon couldn’t be allowed to fall into a dark abomination. Of hate and cruelty. The nature of dark mana warped one’s mind toward evil. Synaptic’s directive to the AI controller, asking for that to be changed, was rejected.
The government had refused to intervene. It was just a “childish game” to them.
Rowan and LeMort and Ambiguous will be brought to justice if it was the last thing Jonathan did before he ran out of subscription money. He’ll make sure of it. This was his mistake to fix. His alone.
And an alliance with the mighty dragons was all he asked for here.
Chapter 36
S Rank Ultimate
Zaine’s chant finished. The rubies on the trebuchets and dark goblets holding large shield crystals flashed ebony once.
Rowan attuned to the nearest generator, willing it so with a thought. A spark of electricity arced through his body as it took effect. Somehow, he knew he could now pass through the overlapping domes.
You have now attuned to Crystal Network [1]
And thanks to the ever-helpful dialogs too.
Dome shields of swirling, highly-transparent, blackish fire vibrated as a rain of ballistae shots impacted the first set, dealing less than 0.5% damage per shot to each shield. Water was the weakest element—as Gabrielle had claimed. The corrupting fire was more than enough to evaporate the blasts on contact.
And the Worker Dolls were already constructing the next four. A leap-frog strategy would be good here. Rowan said, “Order the Dolls to construct the additional generators on this network slightly ahead.”
“Gotcha!” Gabrielle said and puffed to the workers, leaving Rowan alone with the demigod. He couldn’t have her at his side the entire time. This was a war and he couldn’t be ruled by such weaknesses of desire.
Zaine’s outline nodded in approval.
Oh, it was time for that ultimate—to see the true power of a T8 boss. Rowan’s future power. “Well? Your ultimate?”
Zaine stared at the enemy shields and said without glancing at Rowan, “The catapults are more effective than I thought. They’re having a cumulative ramp effect.”
Rowan slung an Examine through the myriad of colors. Red on black on blue. Streaks of smoking Fire-Dark mortars blotted out most of his vision. The water shield was beginning to distort and fracture like glassy plastic. He pinned its health bar to his interface.
Water Mana Shield: Tier 9
Shield Points: 89,117,100
Fire Resistance: Very High
Other Resistances (Average): High
Armor: Medium-High
Ten million damage done in a few minutes. Excellent DPS. But Rowan knew the light class personal portals took mere minutes to channel at the higher tiers. That shield needed to be down this minute and the spawnstone in the city destroyed—that was Ambiguous’ job.
She led a strike-force of imps, stalkers, and an owl to clear the way to the courtyard fountain. The girls confirmed the city streets would be lined with wards and traps—from past experience sneaking into the city to raid its vault. Not much had changed in the spire’s surrounding city over a year. And the good players sure loved their courtyard spawnpoints. So predictable. So weak.
"Do it," Rowan said in a hard voice, pinging Zaine. "We need to take out their spawn point."
“Do you know where it is?” His voice was relaxed, bored even.
“Just one fountain. Scout Imp told me.” Should be right. The Imp had uploaded images into his Rowan’s mind, showing brownish-gray portals appearing at a large, paved square. Various melee and ranger classes had stepped through. No other locations had been found.
“Very well.” His outlined vanished and a ping sounded.
Zaine Everlight suggests you brace yourselves.
Rowan spun into action in an instant and ordered every imp to the back of the shields. Then for the owls to redirect all mana reserves into their auras. Zaine had granted Rowan mental-command over the army a while back.
Focusing on Gabrielle’s party icon, he found her
lazying about around Ambiguous a hundred meters to the right. Rowan blinked to her in three strides, six seconds, as—
The sky blackened over the city like a black hole had been summoned over it. The darkness spread like ink through the cloudless sky. Every artillery machine halted.
Holy hell. Rowan shivered in anticipation. This was his future, rightful power he’d ascend to. The sight snatched his breath away.
Gabrielle’s breath too. “Oooooooo… It’s so pretty.”
“Brace your shields,” Ambiguous said, calm, “They’re sturdier if you concentrate your mana on them.”
Thanks for the tip. Rowan already knew though. He’d discovered that trick back in the mines.
Then the black sky cracked like glass—
And shattered.
The power of a T8 demigod before his eyes.
Rowan’s lips parted, his breathing halting.
A jagged, several-mile-wide maw peering into a dimension of dark eddies unfolded. The world’s ceiling over the Water Mage Spire collapsed and rained down miasma-ridden shards onto its shield. Webs of distortions and fractures grew, the shield’s health bar draining at an impressive rate. A million damage per second.
“Whaaat?” Gabrielle said, “The pirate lord has a better ultimate than that.”
Really?! Rowan slashed an incredulous look at her shimmer.
“It’s true,” Ambiguous said.
But this wasn’t the end of the skill for the face Rowan least expected to see peered through the glass maw.
“Whoopies. Spoke too soon!”
It was Draesear—in all his demonic glory, his horned, black, bone-like visage the size of a small city. His set of ever-grinning teeth parted and Rowan stared into the fires of hell. He laughed, his distorted roar sending shockwaves across every shield. “HA HA HA HA!” Those fire orbs for eyes spun and revealed elongated, black pupils like a lizard’s.
Every imp froze, their grins fading before the dark god, waiting for it deliver judgment.
Draesear’s eyes flicked to Rowan and knives dug into his skull.
His heart stuttered, that vision of what Gabrielle had become in the alternate timeline playing his mind’s eye. Those depressed, baggy eyes and lifeless complexion glared needles into his skin. Into his heart. He’d lost his glorious dark empire. He’d lost her.
He shook it off before he sank into that well of despair again—and grabbed Gabrielle’s shimmer before Draesear could take her away. He drew her close, his arm around her shoulder.
“Huh?” she blurted, “It’s on our side, ya silly!”
He whispered darkly, “It’s not that.” And decided to just tell her. She had a right to know—it was her alternate future as much as it was his. “When I became a Necromancer, I met—”
“Quiet!” she snapped, “look!”
Rowan swallowed his confession and followed her stealthed finger pointing to—
Draesear’s bony finger emerged through the opening. A sphere which Rowan almost missed grew at the tip of the nail. A black, spiral-like ball outlined in white inflated to the size of an Imp or two. Microscopic compared to the gargantuan god.
Draesear’s sneer grew. The sphere pulsed once and all color drained from the landscape like it was sucked into a sinkhole. The god blew on the sphere and it drifted to the Water Mage Shield at an agonizingly slow speed.
After the longest seconds as Rowan’s heart thumped against his ribs, the attack struck the shield. A ripple spread across its surface before a column of black and white mana consumed the entire city for two heartbeats.
The water shield shattered and disintegrated, its health bar a sliver. Color returned to the scene. Draesear retreated into the void and the sky faded back to blue.
Rowan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. The dark god had spared his beautiful Gabrielle. It was merely playing with him by dragging that vision back to the surface. He huffed—he’d expect no less from the dark god of destruction.
“Woooooooo!” Gabrielle cheered and clapped. “Yeeeeaaah! What an ultimate! Fire another round of mortars!”
The owls did her bidding as cool relief washed through Rowan’s nerves. She was still here, alive, jovial. His Gabrielle, eager for the creation of their dark, magi-tech empire. Yes, that’d make her his for a long, long time.
Zaine’s outline appeared in front of them. He panted, dropping to a knee, his stamina and mana bars drained. An icon glowed red under them.
Draesear’s Pity (Decreased damage, resistances, and all regeneration. Heavy Fatigue. Potions and restoration have no effect. 10 minutes remaining)
So summoning the dark god had a price. The boy would risk his life for that jewelry set. He should've mentioned this before—this changed the attack strategy significantly. They'd have to attack the spawn point as a group now. Before it would've been just Zaine and Ambiguous, drawing attention, while Rowan and Gabrielle gunned for the spire and vault beneath.
“Anything we can do to remove the debuff?” Ambiguous asked.
He shook his head-outline. "Just take out that spawn point and get to the vault." His stamina bar refilled at an ant's pace. "Get going. Now. Hundreds of adventurers are porting in."
Dammit. Rowan steeled himself and shoved the discussion away for later. Their dark empire was still at stake here.
“Go go go! Chaaaarge!” Gabrielle shouted, executing the first phase of the attack: taking out all outer-defenses and smashing entrances into that wall, pushing up the shield generators, keeping up a mortar bombardment. All very simple and standard.
Nearby imps and stalkers puffed forward under a wave of mortars.
Jerking at every minion's leash and remembering to preserve the main spire and sapphire, Rowan dished out orders in a flurry of thoughts. Charge! Take out the ballistae! Focus the spawn point! Avoid the spire! He pinged Ambiguous to hold though.
“Change of plans?” she asked.
Rowan grunted. "We're going for the spawn point together. Zaine's weakened. Wait for him to recover a bit."
“Sounds good.” It’d stealth their elite strikeforce to a difficult-to-spot blur for up to three minutes or till they took damage.
Mortars took out the front ballistae in a shower of corrupting fire. The army charged in a deluge of smoke.
Zaine stood, turning to join the charge, but Rowan pinged him to stay behind with Gabrielle and himself at the backlines. “You’re too valuable to lose.”
“Yup,” Gabrielle said, “Can’t lose ya.” She hummed a tune as the boy’s stamina and mana bars wobbled back up.
Zaine grumbled and his head-outline nodded.
The player on the Water Mana Shard fell to a wave of Chaos Orbs and Corrupting Fire Blasts. He tumbled down the wall, painting the granite red.
Rowan smirked. He must’ve been paralyzed by fear—or simply had given up and surrendered to the inevitable.
But he reminded himself to not grow overconfident. One piggy didn't represent all the good players. There had to be at least some clever ones among their thousands, hiding by the spawn point, expecting it to be the first target. It was more than obvious—cutting off reinforcements from the only spawn point was a mandatory first-move. There was no other choice.
“Go,” he said when Zaine’s bars hit the 10% mark. That should be enough to counter the heavy fatigue.
“Hmmm, yup!” Gabrielle agreed.
They blinked in unison, Rowan’s longer cooldown slowing them down much to his annoyance. He was the weak link. But not for much longer, he vowed.
A line of Fire Imp Mages broke through the thin, wide gate with another wave of chaos orbs.
A round of arrows and few magical projectiles turned to ash as the first shield dome pushed against the wall. Hidden enchantments in the stone stopped further advance. Buried runestones.
Smoke and black electricity cleared. And revealed—
That same Fire Mage who had died to the dark humans stood in the middle of a defensive line between stone buildings. They hi
d behind cracking oblong golden shields while mortars streaked overhead. And the Mage’s features were clear this time, not distorted by hundreds of death bolts or a stupidly long fire blast channel.
Max’s brother. And he was fucking pissed. He yelled something lost in the noise of battle. Then pointed with his ruby and silver staff, charging some weak light-aligned skill.
Rowan couldn’t help but sneer at the piggy’s brother as he raised his wand and charged a blizzard, pulling back every melee unit. The Colossus Enforcers waited patiently at his sides, their whips twirling in swirls of heat and mana. “Blast them as the blizzard hits. Five seconds.”
Aeon Chronicles Online_Book 1_Devil's Deal Page 41
