by James Hunter
I glanced around, the hairs standing rigid along my arms.
I didn’t see anything waiting to eat me, but a flash of movement further down the tunnel left me shifting anxiously. The Shadowverse was usually a safe place. But not always. Some regions of the Shadowverse were home to Void Terrors: strange creatures of shadow and magic—creatures like Devil and Nikko. It was rare to run across them, but it did happen. Usually in the worst possible situations. And in my experience to date, the denizens of these Void places were never friendly.
I glanced around one more time, nothing, then pushed down the fear as I silently paddled my way toward the battle, phasing through the frozen Ningyo then taking up a position behind the spellcaster. I lightly touched down on the ground, bending my knees and dropping my weight to activate my Stealth abilities. It was almost impossible to do in the water, but after a couple of tries I managed the thing. There was another flash of movement—just a flicker of shadow, here then gone—in the corner of my eye.
I gulped and readjusted my grip.
Another flicker of movement. Closer this time.
Yep, time to get the hell out. I had absolutely no desire whatsoever to see what lived here, and suddenly I had no doubt that something did live here.
Before it could pounce, I exhaled and stepped back into the Material Realm, motion and sound crashing down all around me. With a silent snarl, I drove the warhammer’s wicked spike forward and up, directly into the base of the Ningyo’s neck, triggering Savage Blow and Black Caress. Critical Hit. The spellcaster, clearly a glass cannon, dropped like a sack of rocks, her HP hitting zero. I didn’t waste time gloating, though. No, I used the element of surprise, bolting left and jabbing the spike into the carotid artery of a brawler with a hooked sword while Osmark barreled into the frontline fighters, decimating them with his oversized saw blade.
The battle was over in seconds.
I just floated there, panting for a second. I’d need to loot the bodies, but my HP and Spirit were down, so I decided to top off just in case some new, fresh horror sprang out from around the corner, ready to eviscerate me. I pulled a Health Regen potion from my belt and popped the cork, trying to slam the liquid back. I couldn’t even get a single drop out before the cherry-red potion leaked into the water. Frustrated, I pushed my face into the cloud of red, hoping to breathe in the substance, but that was about as helpful as an ejector seat on a helicopter.
So not only did combat in this world suck, but half of my abilities were useless and potions were a no-go. I grunted, sighed. Of course. I should’ve expected as much.
Disgruntled, I tossed the bottle aside—it bobbed this way then that as it slowly descended toward the ground—and pulled open my interface. Maybe there was some way to apply the potions directly from the inventory without actually having to drink them. I scanned my menus, looking for an option, but found none. Better and better. Water levels, why would I expect anything to work properly?
On the plus side, that last battle had earned me enough EXP to push me up to level 44, earning me five Attribute Points and a single Proficiency Point. I immediately dropped the Attribute Points into Spirit, then took a moment to scan my character sheet:
Satisfied, I closed the screen and toggled over to my Shadowmancer Skill Tree, idly rubbing at my chin.
I couldn’t add another point to Night Cyclone until level 46, and Shadow Lord, my ultimate Shadowmancer Ability, was locked until level 50. I still needed Third Eye and Death’s Door, but both of those were locked too, until level 46 and 48 respectively. I could always add the point to one of my general skills—Blunt Weapons, say, or maybe Medium Armor—but after a few seconds of thought, I decided against it. Gaining new levels at this point in the game was a serious trial, and my Proficiency Points were just too precious, too rare, to spend willy-nilly.
But I couldn’t stomach the idea of sitting on the point for an entire level, not when it could mean the difference between life and death.
Finally, I glanced at Shadow Stride with its six points—Master Level. Shadow Stride was easily my coolest ability, and the skill that had made me who and what I was. If I had to invest the point somewhere, it made sense to put it there. And besides, I was more than a little interested to see what would happened when I maxed it out. I pressed my lips into a thin line, then added the point before I could change my mind. As soon as it hit, the words Shadow Stride shimmered and flared with golden light, followed by a notification:
<<<>>>
Notification:
Congratulations, you have unlocked a new achievement: Shadow Strider Grandmaster! You are the first Shadowmancer player to accomplish this in Viridian Gate Online! As a result, you have been awarded 100 renown—in-world fame—for completing this achievement. Greater renown elevates you within the ranks of Eldgard and can affect merchant prices when selling or buying.
<<<>>>
At this point, a little added renown wasn’t likely to do much for me—hell, I was probably the second most well-known player in the game after Osmark. Still though, pride burned in my chest at the new Grandmaster achievement. There isn’t a gamer I know that doesn’t like being the first to unlock something new and awesome. But as I dismissed the notice, my eyebrows rose, my mouth falling open as I saw the real reward. By raising Shadow Stride to Grandmaster, I’d unlocked a new secondary ability.
The Spirit cost had jumped up to 200 per use, but the benefits had adjusted accordingly. Not only could I spend a full minute in the Shadowverse, but the cooldown time dropped to a mere 20 seconds, and on top of that my Health Regen rate and Spirit Regen rate increased by 25% while Shadow Striding—a huge bonus, since I couldn’t use Regen potions in the Shadowverse. But none of those were the real prize. Oh no. The real prize was a note that appeared at the bottom of the skill description:
Effect 3: You can now pull one party member into the Shadowverse with you while Shadow Striding! The person must be in physical contact with you when you enter the Shadowverse and will reenter the Material Realm the moment you step from the Shadowverse.
I nearly cackled in glee, imagining what kind of shenanigans I’d be able to pull with that kind of tool in my belt.
FOURTEEN_
The Drowned Temple
It took us another hour to grind our way through the rest of the twisting passageway, killing scores of humanoid Ningyo and other things. Worse things. Massive electric eels that unleashed as much raw juice as a lightning storm. Floating stingrays sporting wicked barbed tails that paralyzed with a single scratch. Schools of vicious, bioluminescent piranha, each the size of a pug. Those last were the absolute worst, their teeth capable of shredding flesh, or even penetrating armor without too much difficulty. And they were fast to boot.
On the plus side, the loot all those mobs dropped was absolutely top-notch: Scores of coins—enough silver and gold to make most players filthy rich—and a generous number of rare gemstones, which could be fitted into crafted items with open enchantment slots. The bronzed breastplates of the Ningyo were pretty good medium armor, though nothing to rival the Night Blessed Armor I was currently wearing, which offered me a +5 bonus to Constitution, +15% Resistance to Piercing Damage, +15% Resistance to Slashing Damage, and +10% Resistance to all Elemental and Arcane-Based Damage.
The big find so far, though, was a unique dagger, which I’d pulled from the belly of a monstrous eel the size of a city bus. It was one of the strange scythe-bladed daggers, somewhere between a short sword and a normal dagger, many of the Ningyo carried. This one was unique, however.
<<<>>>
Lawbreaker’s Edge
Weapon Type: Bladed; Dagger
Class: Rare, One-handed
Base Damage: 45
Primary Effects:
10 pts Poison Damage + (.25 x Character Level)
+15% Damage when Backstabbing
Dexterity Bonus = .25 x Character Level
Secondary Effects:
2% chance to Paralyze for 30 seconds on hit
&nbs
p; Gain 100% chance of critical hit against enemies below 25% Health
Lawbreaker’s Edge ignores all class restrictions!
Lawbreaker’s Edge can be duel wielded, ignoring class and weapon restrictions!
<<<>>>
As a Maa-Tál Shadowmancer, I had a lot of cool class advantages, but there were also several different class restrictions, such as weakness against Holy Damage or the inability to wear heavy armor. Checks against an already overpowered class. Among those restrictions was a heavy penalty while using any weapon other than a blunt weapon—blades in particular. Sure, there was nothing stopping me from using a dagger, for example, but I would do such insignificant damage it just wasn’t worth it.
Unfortunate, since daggers gained a 7x damage multiplier while backstabbing, compared to the 5x damage multiplier with other weapons.
But Lawbreaker’s Edge let me bend that steadfast rule, which was especially helpful here in this watery world where my warhammer was too slow to be practical. Sure, the dagger didn’t have even a fraction of the damage of my hammer, but the speed made up for it. Absently, I twirled the dagger, mimicking a move I’d seen Cutter perform a thousand times before as I scanned the passage up ahead, which doglegged sharply left.
“I think this is it,” Osmark noted, scanning something ahead of him I couldn’t see. “According to the interface map, this section seems to connect to a massive open cavern of some kind. No other way in or out.” He waved one hand through the air, then shot a look at me over one shoulder. “Ready to proceed, Jack?” he asked, checking his repeater, which had a smaller version of his trademark buzz saw attached beneath the muzzle. He was severely disadvantaged down here—his drones, guns, rocket launchers, flamethrowers, and grenades were all useless—but he persevered.
Begrudgingly, I had to admit that Osmark was one shrewd player, even when outgunned.
“Yeah,” I said, giving my new dagger another quick twirl. “Better let me take point though.” I maneuvered over to the wall, then pulled my way along the rock face while I silently kicked my feet. I followed the tunnel around the dogleg for three yards or so, then the passageway finally opened up. I couldn’t whistle in awe, the water made it impossible, but I sure wanted to. Beyond the tunnel was a cavernous bowl, two miles wide and a mile deep.
Rough cavern walls reached up, up, up, terminating at a jagged ceiling studded with rocky stalactites that looked like crystalized dragon teeth. Hanging from the very center of the cavern’s ceiling was an enormous piece of rough quartz, easily the size of a M1A1 tank, which burned with otherworldly light. Oranges and reds, intermixing with brilliant streaks of gold and white. An underwater sun presiding over a hidden city not meant for human eyes.
And there was a city below.
With a name like the Drowned Temple, I’d been expecting some sort of classic dungeon. But this wasn’t that, not even a little bit. There was a sprawling metropolis down in the crater.
The streets were laid out in a neat orderly grid, and the buildings themselves were beautiful white marble structures, all flowing lines and graceful arches, connected by delicate bridges like a carefully sculpted coral reef. Most of the houses were painstakingly carved to resemble fantastic seashells—a horned conch here, a towering spiral shell there—while the more ordinary homes were capped with glittering golden domes or elegant minarets. Forests of blue-green seaweed surrounded the city and lined the streets like decorative trees.
At the very center of the city, sprawling on a large, raised dais, was a brilliant open-air sanctuary of marble columns that reminded me of photos I’d once seen of the Parthenon Acropolis in Greece.
That had to be the Drowned Temple. Had to be.
And rising from the center of the underwater acropolis was a massive column of cancerous green light, shooting straight up until it hit the cavernous ceiling above. I couldn’t see the pillar from my vantage, but because I wasn’t a total newb, I knew that column of light marked its location. I squinted, scanning for any sign of the boss who’d be guarding the obelisk.
No luck.
Though that didn’t mean the city was empty—far from it.
Legions of Ningyo populated the place. But even at a glance, it was clear something was wrong with them. Instead of the hustle and bustle I would’ve expected in a city this size, the creatures swam around without purpose or reason. None of them shopped in the bazaar on the west side of the city or chitchatted idly with their neighbors. They just swam lethargically or shuffled mindlessly along the boulevard below, clearly enthralled by the dark spell of the pillar.
“There’s too many of those things,” Osmark grunted, more for himself than for me. “Hundreds of them. Even with an army I doubt we could take this city.” His brows knit in concentration as he surveyed the layout, looking for some sign of weakness. Some point of entry.
“Good thing you have me,” I said, slapping him on the shoulder. “Because unlike you, I’m used to being the underdog. The thing you need to remember is that those creatures down there”—I waved a hand at the shuffling Thralls—“aren’t the enemy, they’re the victims. We don’t need to beat them, we just need to bring down that pillar. That’s the target, and if we can destroy that thing, there’s a damned good chance those things will snap out of their funk. They’ll fight for us, instead of against us.”
Osmark dipped his head in acknowledgment. “Fair point. But how do we get to the pillar without battling our way through them?”
“You might be good at a lot of things, Osmark, but leave this part to me. Getting into places I’m not supposed to be is sort of my specialty.” I shot him a wink as my fingers pressed down into his shoulder. “Buckle up. I have something to show you.” I triggered Shadow Stride just as I’d done a thousand times before, but this time was different. This time the cold power surged from my chest, down along my hand, and into the Artificer as I pulled him from the Material Reality and deep into the heart of the Shadowverse.
His eyes widened in shock, his hands curling into tight fists as the color leaked away like flour through a sieve. The swaying fields of seaweed below froze, as did the drifting Ningyo—each a perfect statue.
“Incredible,” he whispered as I gave him a little yank, pulling him into motion. “But how is this possible?” he asked. “I know everything about you. I know your skill set. I’ve seen you in countless battles—studied your moves. But this …” He trailed off. “No, impossible. I would’ve known about this.”
I felt like cackling.
He had no clue that this feature was as new to me as it was to him, but letting him stew on the oversight was far more rewarding than telling him the truth. If my battle against Osmark in both the Legion’s camp and later in Ravenkirk taught me anything, it was to make sure to keep your opponent off balance. Make them think there’s always some ace hiding up your sleeve, even if there isn’t. “You know what I want you to know,” I lied through my teeth, fighting to keep my face straight at the corny line. “Now let’s get moving—we only have so much time.”
I leapt from the ledge, legs kicking, webbed feet propelling me as I ghosted down toward the seaweed near the southern edge of the city. Osmark followed, mumbling under his breath while he pushed deep into the weeds, and squatted down, using the underwater foliage to anchor himself in place. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a flash of movement near the mouth of the cave we’d vacated a moment before. I glanced up in time to see a fat tentacle vanish back into the maw of the tunnel—the flesh rubbery, purple, and covered in fat suction cups as big as my palm.
Just a glimpse.
Still I felt a bead of fear writhe inside me. That had to be the same thing I’d glimpsed back in the passageway, and though I’d only seen the tip of one tentacle, the limb had been bigger around than my torso.
A Void Terror. A big, mean, nasty one. And it was following us.
The countdown timer was nearly at zero, but I didn’t wait. I stepped from the Shadowverse without a moment of hesitation, pulling Osm
ark with me. Life, color, sound, and motion resumed their normal cadence, and a pair of Ningyo Thralls floated past me and Osmark, just a few feet above the swaying lengths of seaweed. I could feel tension build in Osmark as he tracked their course, one hand curled tightly around his pistol, though it wouldn’t do him much good. Not here.
For a long second, we both just crouched there—the pair of us cloaked in Stealth, neither of us daring to so much as breathe.
But then the brainwashed sentries were gone, moving on their way, none the wiser about our intrusion. Osmark glanced at me, his face pale, his lips pressed into a thin line. Silently we wove our way through the gently undulating vegetation, right up to the edge of a broad boulevard paved with glimmering, fist-sized opals instead of standard cobblestones. An opulent display that reminded me that this place was no simple dungeon. We paused, lingering as we scanned high and low for any sign of more guards.
There were a few cramped alleys winding between these lower houses, but they provided scant cover against prying eyes, and I had no idea how proficient Osmark was at Stealth.
Better to play it safe than sorry. I glanced at Osmark. He looked on the verge of speaking, but I silenced him with a shake of my head and a finger pressed against my lips. My Shadow Stride cooldown timer flashed in the corner of my eye. I grabbed his forearm and pulled him into the Shadowverse once again, then urged him on, stealing to another pocket of floating seaweed up ahead, positioned between two houses lining the opal boulevard.
And that’s how it went for the next ten minutes.
Skirting along from shrub to shrub, alley to alley, doorway to doorway, moving as noiselessly as ghosts while we made our way through the Shadowverse. The closer we got to the acropolis, the more challenging each leap became. The edges of city were largely unpopulated, but the Ningyo became thick as flies a few blocks from the pillar, and those seemed far more alert. The hiding spots became trickier as well—the swaying pockets of seaweed vanished, making the short breaks in the Material Plane frantic, terrifying events.
