Clans War (The Way of the Shaman: Book #7) LitRPG Series

by Mahanenko, Vasily

  “We don’t help the minions of Shadow and their lackeys!” boomed the guard captain. Nevertheless the pike tips ceased their advance on my orc.

  “Dan, where are you? Elizabeth has locked herself in her cabinet and isn’t letting anyone in. The Priests are all in shock.”

  “You have to buy us some time, Stacey. I’m in the Nameless City. Get Fleita, she’s a Zombie and maybe knows what to do.”

  “I’m no minion of Shadow! Nor am I his servant!” I shouted at the guard.

  “We’re not talking about you, Shaman! You brought this creature to our city.” The Minotaur pointed at Gerdom. “It must be destroyed! The Nameless City is no place for the minions of Shadow.”

  I swore out loud. Today was clearly not my day. Not only had I turned the guards into Zombies, but now it turned out that Gerdom was aligned with Shadow. No wonder Eluna’s light has a negative effect on him. I’m amazed the orc even survived those few moments in the goddess’s temple!

  Understanding that there was no point expecting a miracle in the Nameless City, I blinked toward Altameda. There was one last thing I could try to save Gerdom. The healers of Malabar and Kartoss couldn’t help — it wasn’t in their line of work. They’d be more comfortable throwing my orc on a pyre. The only other option was one I really didn’t like. It was fraught with the peril of punishment from Eluna and Tartarus. And it didn’t promise anything other than further problems. But I had managed to snatch the orc from the jaws of death and my pride prevented me from allowing those same jaws to have him after all. Especially, mere minutes after I’d saved him.

  “Master, the enemy is here with you! ” The Gray Death’s thought flashed in my mind and we were instantly surrounded by a pack of wolves. My wolves. Who, it turned out, knew how to speak to me! I’d need to get to the bottom of this.

  “Save him, don’t attack!” I ordered, again shielding Gerdom. I cast a longing glance at Altameda, stepped away from Gerdom just in case and exhaled several times, clearing the air from my lungs (though really I was just delaying the inevitable). Finally, I yelled:

  “Geranika, I summon you! I require your assistance.”

  Practically speaking, nothing happened. Flaming arrows didn’t rain from the sky; the earth didn’t cleave asunder; the woods didn’t cease to be green nor the sky blue. Only the wolves tucked their tails in and dashed away like hurt puppies, leaving the Gray Death bristling and rearing on her own. In her pride, she didn’t abandon her master! I imagine someone in her pack is going to get it tonight!

  “THE ENEMY!” the local Guardian yelled somewhere barely within earshot, after which his heavy, receding steps indicated that the ruler of these lands was indeed wise and experienced: After all, who would willingly enter battle against a stronger foe? The tactically correct decision is to retreat to a safe distance and apprise the situation. Which is exactly what the Guardian is doing at this moment as fast as his legs can carry him. If he has legs that is…

  “You called me, my failed student?” Geranika asked in a tone so neutral that it seemed more appropriate to friends or coworkers than two sworn foes as we had been before the Cataclysm. Geranika arrived dressed in his finest garb — a black, velvet suit, polished shoes, a red tie, a cane, a flawless coif. His appearance elicited sympathy, but not fear. If you told someone that he was one of the scariest creatures of Barliona, they’d laugh you out of town.

  “I managed to rescue your warrior from Erebus,” I pointed at Gerdom. “My acquaintances can’t heal him — no one knows how to work with Shadow. I need your help.”

  “How curious,” Geranika circled Gerdom, paying no heed to the Gray Death’s growling. “What do you need with one of my fallen soldiers?”

  “When I was rescuing him, I didn’t know that he was one of your own. In Erebus, all the shades are gray.”

  “I understand. Does it upset you to destroy a creature that you yourself created?” Geranika guessed. “I won’t lie to you. I’m not going to heal him. I don’t need him. A mere Level 120 Zombie…He’s nothing. But we can make a deal.”

  “About what?” I furrowed my brow.

  “You can heal him yourself,” grinned Geranika. “I’ll teach you!”

  “I won’t become a servant of Shadow!” I cut him off.

  “Pff…Shadow, light, darkness,” Geranika scoffed indignantly, “they’re all just names really. Names for one and the same thing. You were in Erebus — so you know how it all ends. Chaos spawned us and to Chaos we shall return.”

  “I won’t become a servant of Shadow,” I said again, although my voice was a bit gravely this time.

  “What the heck do I need you for? I’ll show you how to heal my minions and you can figure out the rest yourself. Use my gift or don’t use it…If you want to save this Zombie, heal him. If not — let him die. What a princess you are — ‘this but not that and this way but not this way.’ Make your decision, Shaman! Are you going to the end or are you stopping right here?”

  New ability acquired: Summon Minor Shadow of Healing. You are temporarily renouncing the Spirits of the Ancestors and calling on the Shadows, tearing reality and being to fragments. Cost of summoning…Cost of healing…May be used anywhere except in Imperial palaces. -50 to Reputation with all Kalragon factions for each summon of the Shadow. Upon reaching Hatred status with any faction, a hunting party will be sent out after you.

  New faction unlocked: ‘Lord of Shadow.’ Current Reputation: Hatred.

  The first summon of a Battle or Healing Shadow is a test and does not have an effect on Reputation.

  “You can figure out when and why you should use my gift on your own,” smiled Geranika, noting my long face with satisfaction. Along with the Healing Shadow, I also received a Minor Battle Shadow and now I didn’t know what to do. What did I need any of this for? I hadn’t asked for it! After a few seconds, Geranika hiked his eyebrows and asked:

  “So are you going to revive my warrior or are we going to go on acting like two young and inexperienced lovers on their first date?”

  The spellbook appeared before my eyes with a thick red line that split its pages in two halves: A top section for my Spirits and a bottom section for the Shadows. A vivid and sparkling Spirits icon occupied the top half of the first section, while the bottom section featured a gloomy and grim Shadow icon, resembling a spit stain. A standard game mechanic, the book’s pages, even the empty ones, were divided in two halves. The grim conclusion I drew from this was that the Corporation had granted the players a chance to play with the Shadows. This meant that Barliona would soon see an enormous army of Shadow, assembled from Free Citizens. And this, in turn, would cause an outbreak of PvP battles. The players would start massacring each other left and right. These were Shadows after all: They could be used anywhere. Even in a city…

  I heard Gerdom groan as his Hit Points dipped to 1%. A timer appeared before me: 60…59…58…

  I had a minute to make my choice.

  It was painfully easy to use a Shadow — all it took was stretching out your hand in the direction of the patient, casting the summon and enjoying the result. No dances with a tambourine or Intellect requirements. Just your hand and a summon.

  34…33…32…

  Geranika was examining my castle with a bored look on his face, demonstrating his utter disinterest in my decision. There were no signs or omens from the figureheads of the world, not a peep from my premonition, as if nothing important or fateful was taking place, so I swore, stretched my hand at Gerdom and pushed the Healing Shadow icon. The first summon is harmless…

  The world vanished. Images began hurling past my eyes, replacing one another at an unimaginable rate. No sooner did my eye latch onto some item than it vanished replaced by another. An alabaster throne. A scowling green monster. A falling meteor. An explosion. A bloodied and charred creature, standing on two legs and leaning against some kind of stick. Fog. A cave. A crystal.

  The whirlwind of images ended. An enormous, semi-transparent, red crystal appeared be
fore me. It hung in the air, emitting a wondrous light. If the Cupid faction, which busied itself with Barliona’s Valentine’s Day event, saw this wonder, I bet their personal menageries would go mad with the desire to acquire it. A crystal in the shape of a heart, the form that enamored girls so loved to draw. What could be sweeter?

  The apparition vanished just as abruptly as it had appeared. I stared with surprise at my own hand, from which a Shadow resembling a thick snake was coiling in the direction of Gerdom. As soon as it touched the orc, the world around me was pierced by his savage scream — the Shadows reached the orc even in his unconsciousness. The scream was so piercing, so overflowing with emotions and pleas for help that I barely managed to keep myself from jerking my hand away and interrupting the summon. The Shadow enveloped the orc slowly, as if relishing his agony. At last it reached his head and the scream choked and sputtered out. The orc drowned in the Shadow, turning into an ugly cocoon.

  “The Shaman decided to summon the Shadow,” Geranika said with bemusement, approaching Gerdom. The summon ended, yet the orc didn’t even think to stir. He didn’t seem to be thinking anything at all actually. The cocoon rose one meter off the ground and began to bend in various directions as if the creature inside of it was struggling in agony. Only now did I notice that the Gray Death remained standing beside us, scowling at Geranika.

  “Let’s see whom you snatched from Erebus’ clutches,” Geranika went on in a business-like tone, touching the cocoon. A sharp clap followed and the orc’s body plopped heavily onto the ground.

  Your Reputation with the Lord of Shadow has changed. Current status: ‘It’s complicated.’

  “Mahan, I don’t even know how to thank you for such a present,” Geranika drawled with satisfaction, examining the listless body. I stepped forward. The creature lying on the ground was about twice as massive as the former orc. Its Hit Points were full, its properties hidden and in general it was unclear to me what I had created. I needed to take a closer look.

  “Master is joining Shadow? ” the Gray Death’s telepathic question was so unexpected that I froze for a moment.

  “No,” I said aloud after several attempts of answering her telepathically. It was clear as day now that the she-wolf was sentient.

  “Master has revived a warrior of Shadow.”

  “I know. That doesn’t make me a minion of Shadow.”

  “You know, Mahan, talking to yourself is a symptom of several mental illnesses,” Geranika didn’t let the chance to score a cheap point slip away and butted into our conversation. “I have a nice white shirt with really long sleeves that I’d be willing to give you if you like.”

  “Very funny. Take your orc and get out of here,” I snapped.

  “How would I simply go without first thanking you for my new General? You just gave my army a senior officer. Now it’s my turn to repay the favor.”

  As soon as Geranika said that, Gerdom’s properties became visible to me and I could barely contain my feelings. And my feelings made me want to start cursing the entire world, with the choicest expressions reserved for the devs and James. The players would kill me.

  Gerdom Steelaxe (Level 750 Shadow Orc). Shadow Army General. Creator: Mahan.

  “There’s no point in offering you items; you won’t take them,” Geranika went on. “Titles, honors, lands…That’s all dross. I know!”

  “I am ready to serve, your lordship!” the orc boomed, interrupting Geranika’s exclamation. Gerdom staggered to his feet, swayed, leaned against an enormous two-handed scimitar, which the cheap short sword I’d given him had turned into, swayed again, caught his balance and breathed deeply. The orc hadn’t the strength to take even one more step.

  “Oh you shall serve, don’t you worry.” Geranika made several motions with his hands and Gerdom vanished in the portal. “All right, one’s been dealt with, now it’s your turn.”

  “I don’t need anything from you!”

  “Not even information?”

  “You want to tell me how we can best capture Armard?” I couldn’t avoid a gibe.

  “No, Shaman! Why would you need Armard when you have Altameda? Everything is much more interesting than that. You have six Zombies on your hands, correct?”

  “How did you…? Yes,” I switched off my emotions and tried to apprehend the Lord of Shadow’s speech as an old movie that I’d seen a hundred times already. ‘Cause I just knew something really crappy was coming.

  “In Kartoss lives a creature named Knucklear. Once upon a time he was a Troll Monk, a mad ascetic, one of the radical patriots of Kartoss. Fate, however, played a mean trick on him, turning him into a Zombie. Knucklear didn’t abide this and turned back into a troll. Then into a Zombie. Then again into a troll. After that he got tired of transforming back and forth and he became a Zombie again. Now he teaches the Monk adepts. If you find a way to see him, you might be able to discover how you can turn six fresh-baked Zombies into living creatures again. That’s enough information to pay you for my General.

  Quest updated: ‘Who will guard the guards themselves?’

  “And that’s about it,” Geranika concluded, leaving me in stupefaction for the third time. This entire story had been pre-planned by James? He knew that I would summon Geranika and accept his conditions? “In a few weeks, we shall meet at the tournament. Gerdom will show you what he is capable of. Until we meet again, my future ally!”

  “Dan, Elizabeth has emerged from her cabinet. She refuses to acknowledge her son.” Anastaria’s thought occurred in my mind. “She says that her son has died and the creature that you brought back isn’t Clouter. ”

  “Summon me, Stacey! There’s been some new developments.”

  “…and banish them! My decision shall enter force and effect right this…Ah! Mahan! You too shall be…” In the form of the Ice Queen, Elizabeth was looking down on the surrounding world, not noticing, or not wishing to notice anything around her. Clouter was sitting on the floor bawling, his hands covering his face. The five guards that I’d pulled out of Erebus were standing grimly in a clump beside the far wall, glancing at the High Priestess from under their brows. About fifty players had crowded into the main hall, not wishing to miss the spectacle. We were separated from them by an invisible line that the players didn’t cross. Either the game didn’t allow it, or they were afraid of incurring the wrath of the High Priestess. The resulting clearing served as a good site for the trial that Elizabeth was now putting on — the punishment of six inadequate guards and one insolent Shaman. The only problem was that the Shaman wasn’t about to take the NPC’s wrath silently. I had other plans for this evening.

  “I know how to bring them back to life,” I cried, interrupting Elsa. “Clouter shall be human again!”

  A silence ensued. Elsa froze with her hands still akimbo, absorbing my words. The guards trained their grim eyes on me and even Clouter ceased crying, unveiling his tear-stained face from beneath his hands. What kind of a guard was he? He’s still a child!

  “How do you plan on doing this?” Anastaria asked after a short while. The pause was drawing on and neither Elizabeth nor the servants nearest to her were about to speak, so Stacey began to rescue our situation.

  “There is a Monk teacher who lives in Kartoss named Knucklear…” I related the story of the troll, without mentioning the source of my information. “Those whom I returned from Erebus shall live once again!”

  Silence reigned.

  “Clouter, we need to go. We don’t have much time,” I approached the boy and offered him my hand to help him rise. The timer was still hanging before my eyes, counting down the time I had to complete the quest, so I needed to hurry. There were only about 20 hours left.

  “Is that possible, Mahan?” Clouter asked sniffling, wiping his running nose.

  “What a question. Everything is possible in Barliona. Do you men need a personal invitation?” I turned to the grim-faced guards. “Company at attention!”

  The reflexes embedded in the Imitators trigger
ed flawlessly — all six, including Clouter, ordered themselves in two ranks of three. The guards cheered up noticeably — their faces acquired meaningful expressions, their backs straightened, and their hands stopped shaking. If it weren’t for their chalk-white faces, set off by their gilded cuirasses, you’d be hard pressed to recognize that they were Zombies. Assuming, you couldn’t read their properties, that is.

  “High Priestess,” I addressed Elsa bravely, heartened by the guards’ reaction. “Permit us to leave the hall without any further remarks.”

  “Permission granted. Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed and blushed deeply.

  “Company, right face! Straight march!”

  The players clumped at the passage and blocking it, dissolved as if a magic wand had been waved at them, yet I didn’t need that. Why use your feet to walk when you pay a portal demon? I got out an amulet and ordered:

  “Viltrius, send me a portal. We have guests coming…”

  * * *

  Upon reaching my castle, I ordered delivery from the Golden Horseshoe, collapsed in my rocking throne, shut my eyes and sighed deeply. Viltrius took care of the Zombies, taking them on a tour of the castle. The guards’ eyes sparked with excitement — not everyone got a chance to visit Altameda. Maybe I should keep them? Vimes would come up with something for them. They’d fit right in…No, all that later. Right now I need to rest a little. It’s crazy to think that I returned to Barliona only ten hours ago. Any other player would take a month to accomplish this! Right this instant, I should probably speak with Mr. Kristowski to determine how our clan should proceed in the wake of the Cataclysm, but he was still over in the palace hammering out the details about the tournament. Why the hell did I come up with that idea anyway?!

  “Dan, we’ve started working on the Tomb,” Anastaria’s voice yanked me from my sweet slumber. I believe I fell asleep.

  “Who is ‘we?’” I asked puzzled, at a loss and still half dreaming. Here it struck me — Phoenix! “How’s it going? By the way, I thought you wanted to start this evening? Why’d you change your mind?”