The Phantom Castle (The Way of the Shaman: Book #4) LitRPG series

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “I am looking forward to seeing all of you in two months!” said the vampire in a satisfied voice. As much as the players hated the exhaustion and pain, no one wanted to decline the quest. “And now I must leave you. If we are to have everything ready by the deadline, we must begin our preparations for the second training session right away!”

  A crunching sounded in my ear. My projection—to whom I had grown so used to in these four weeks that I hardly noticed him anymore—crawled out onto my shoulder and began to devour a spectral apple. We had discovered that I was the only one who could hear the crunching: My projection remained soundless to the other players. On the one hand this was a good thing and yet at the same time, it was no fun, since we couldn’t hear, for instance, the songs of Anastaria’s tiny siren who would twirl in front of a mirror to arrange her hair—or for that matter, the litany of oaths streaming from Plinto’s vampire, who wielded two poison-green daggers and made such a menacing face that one couldn’t help but smile.

  “No way!” exclaimed Anastaria as a new notification materialized before my eyes:

  Dear player! We would like your permission to use your image in a movie about the events that took place in Beatwick Village and the Dark Forest. By way of remuneration for the use of your image, we are happy to offer you 0.5% royalties from each movie. Remuneration shall be issued to you by the Emperor and the commensurate amount will be automatically transferred to your Bank of Barliona account.

  “A movie, huh...” I said pensively. “Who wants to be a movie star?”

  “I’m down,” replied both Anastaria and Barsina practically simultaneously. “The Corporation doesn’t make movies that often to say no to such an opportunity!”

  “I agreed too,” added Plinto. “Playing for fun is one thing—entering the game’s lore is something else entirely.”

  Leite, Eric and Clutzer weren’t around, and I didn’t feel like opening the chat, so I also pushed the ‘Accept’ button. The simple fact that they wanted to make a movie compelled me. But hardly had that system notification vanished, when a second appeared:

  Dear players! We are pleased to announce that a new campaign featuring a new hostile Empire has been completed. As of the current moment, Malabar and Kartoss have entered into a ceasefire which will be in effect until Geranika is defeated. Please consult the guides for rules governing interactions between players from the different Empires.

  Please take this opportunity to watch introductory videos about the launch of the two, new scenarios: ‘The Kartoss Gambit’ and ‘The Secret of the Dark Forest.’ Enjoy the videos! (Price of each video—50 gold.)

  “Q.E.D.,” said Anastaria contentedly, “we assisted in the creation of the third Empire and so the barbarians shouldn’t give us any trouble. They’re practically going to give us the castle and the title for free! Baroness Anastaria. It has a ring to it, I must confess! What do you say we watch those videos? Wow! They’re two hours long, each!”

  I never imagined I would end up watching my own adventures, mouth gaping with surprise. Beatwick, the wolf rescue, baiting the dark goblins, the search for Sklic, the Kartoss castle, Anastaria’s invitation, the argument with Elizabeth, the battle, the expedition to the Dark Forest, the Guardian’s glade, the castle of the Fallen, the trials of Geranika, the judgment of the goddess…the Corporation had created a masterpiece! Four hours flew by in an instant, leaving behind them the pleasant sensation of job well done. It was too bad that now all the scenarios had ended—I definitely wouldn’t mind participating in another film!

  Ding! You’ve received 1,439,288 new messages. Do you wish to view them?

  “It has begun,” grinned Anastaria, producing her Portable Mailbox. “Two million messages in thirty minutes. A little more and my personal record for number of messages will be smashed!”

  “I have one-and-a-half mill myself,” I said at a loss and opened my mail. I was not used to such popularity and had no idea what to reply to messages such as:

  Hi! Well played! If you need a Mage—let me know!

  Or:

  Mahan, let me join your clan! We’ll adventure together! Just make sure to introduce me too Anastaria!

  It was like everyone had gone mad and spent the last half-hour writing us letters!

  “Judging by our popularity, you should enter the Miss Malabar contest this year. You’ll smash the competition to bits!” Plinto said happily, getting to his feet. “Are we going back to Anhurs or should we summon the Herald right away?”

  “We still have two days, so let’s go back to Anhurs, take care of some business and go check out the barbarians afterwards. I for one need to reach second rank as Jeweler.”

  “I agree. We need to stop by Anhurs first!” said Anastaria. “The portal’s on me.”

  “Then let’s do it this way—we’ll meet tonight around eight at the Golden Horseshoe to decide where we go as a clan from here. Stacey, since you’re the most experienced, we’ll hear and discuss your advice first. If someone else has other ideas and wants to share them—wonderful. As for now, let’s pack our gear and set off for the capital.”

  * * *

  “How can I be of service?” muttered the Jewelcraft trainer without looking up from his workbench where he was polishing an Opal. Carefully grinding away micron after micron, the gnome was shaping the stone into the form of a heart. Judging by the immense mound of raw stones and the tiara lying nearby with empty sockets—the Jeweler had his work cut out for him. “I’ll beg your pardon right away—I have no time at all. The Duchess wishes to pick up the tiara for her daughter this very day—and she only brought it in yesterday evening. I simply have no time.”

  “I can help,” I said automatically as soon as I sensed the opportunity for a quest. Helping the Jewelcraft trainer cut some hearts wouldn’t cost me a thing—and give me the chance to earn a bonus or two.

  “Really?” the gnome finally looked up and beamed like the sun. “Mahan!” the trainer yelped joyously, jumping from his seat. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you! I heard that someone had crafted the Dwarf Warriors from the Karmadont Chess Set, and I strongly suspect—scratch that, am sure—that it was you! Make an old man happy, will you?”

  Producing the figurines, I handed them to the gnome who began to turn them around and examine them closely for defects. Not likely!

  “Very nice work,” the Jeweler intoned, returning the dwarfs. “Perfect—I’d say. What did you say has brought you here?”

  “I need to increase my Jewelcraft rank. I am already a Level 105 Jeweler and I’m still wandering around with my first rank. I also wanted to find out how the sale of the Stone Rose recipe went.”

  “The sale went well. I sold the recipe for 73,000 gold. Here’s your money.” The gnome handed me a small sack of jingling coins, which instantly vanished in my hand. As per custom, 30% of the gold went to the Empire, reminding me that I had limited rights as a citizen.

  “As for the second rank—I’ll train you, don’t worry. But listen! Either you pay me 10,000 gold and go on your way, or I train you for free but you help me with these here Opals. What do you say?”

  “How do you need me to help you?” I didn’t want to say no to a profession quest and was ready to spend some time on working with the stones.

  “The way I see it I don’t have time to craft the tiara and frame all four stones by the Duchess’s deadline. If you agree to help me—I’ll teach you. If you agree but can’t manage—you’ll have to pay, but the price will be doubled. What do you say?”

  Quest available: An Opal tiara for an Opal bride. Description: Quest type: Rare. Limitations: only for Jewellers.

  “I’ll do it!”

  “Very good.” The gnome rubbed his hands happily, promoting my Gem Cutter specialization to rank two. “You’ll get your next rank at Level 150. As long as you have Crafting, you’ll be able to craft items with up to +1000 stat bonuses. At the moment, in case you don’t remember, you maximum stat bonus for one item is at 180. Now take a s
eat here and take this sample—in four hours, I want four hearts like this one. I’ll start working on the tiara in the meanwhile…”

  “Look! Mahan is here! Get the camera!” The hushed whisper coming from the open window almost knocked me off balance. Were they talking about me? I almost dropped my instruments when I looked out the window—a crowd of about forty had gathered on a small square abutting the Jeweler’s house to watch me work. Two Mage players, leaning against the window, were projecting an image on the wall of the house so that the entire crowd could see my labors in all their glory. My treacherous hands began to shake—I hadn’t yet developed the habit of working under the scrutiny of potential critics, who would later go around yelling to every willing hearer about how they could have done it all so much better. It turns out that extreme fame, in addition to everything else, comes with a serious headache too. No matter! If they want to watch—let them watch! The main thing is they don’t get in the way.

  Doing my best to forget the audience of players, I studied the template of the Opal heart and read over the quest description one more time. ‘An Opal bride…’ The phrasing on its own made me think that there was something amiss here: Since when were there opal NPCs in Barliona? Especially brides.

  “Sir,” I turned to my trainer, “I understand that time is against me, but tell me, what is an Opal bride? What has she done to require opals? And why does the tiara require hearts in particular?”

  “Why, what else can be crafted out of an igneous Opal? Hearts, I believe, will fit quite well—I even have a sample. If you wish, though, you can craft something of your own. The important thing is that it’s mounted in the regular way, like in the sample. As for the bride…Malabar and Kartoss have concluded a peace for the first time ever, even if it’s only a tentative one. So the Duchess of Caltanor has offered one of the Dukes of Kartoss—Urvalix is his name, I believe—to form an alliance by marrying her daughter Tavia to his son Trediol. The girl is only eighteen. She’s never seen this Kartossian before, so she threw a tantrum, screaming that she wouldn’t go and that’s it. Later she relented, or was made to relent. However, she imposed one condition: that she would marry Trediol only with an Opal tiara on her head. The little scamp knows that there aren’t any like that to be found in Anhurs, or even Malabar. The Kartossian is arriving today and the Duchess’s servants are due to pick up the item in three hours. So I figured that hearts would look best of all. She’s a bride after all! But enough—I have to get back to work. I still have to deal with the frame. Please do your best, Mahan!”

  “Does it have to be four stones?” I asked at the last moment before starting to make the cuts.

  “Well, look here at my design,” the gnome showed me the template of the tiara, which may as well have been a crown. Silver leaves, a diamond bezel and four sockets arranged almost in a line. It took me a valuable minute before I understood what I disliked about the gnome’s proposed tiara. Suddenly it dawned on me: the hearts! The red hearts, arranged in a row, would look awful on this marvel, and Tavia, when she saw the result, would throw such a tantrum that Trediol would have no choice but to head back home bride-less. But, hell, what am I on about? These are only NPCs we’re talking about, playing out a scenario about two reconciling belligerents. They cannot not get married! And yet, I’d bet a tooth that those hearts would look woeful in that tiara.

  I examined the heart pattern, the pile of blood-red Opals and shut my eyes. Copying was not our method! The young lady is about to be married against her will. Well, of course, such things happen. By the way, why does she have to marry the Kartossian anyway? Because her mother the Duchess said so? Yeah, right! The girl could approach the Emperor and ask him to overrule her mother’s wishes. Unless…unless this union was exactly what the Emperor himself and the Dark Lord wanted. A first step, a token peace dove, a sacrifice that would unite the two states in their struggle against Geranika. Well, why not? Barliona featured quite advanced social mechanics. And the sacrifice of two NPCs for the sake of the empires’ goals made for a vivid scenario. I’m sure that the marriage would be publicized everywhere, and the young couple would be turned into heroes: martyrs suffering for the sake of their country…Hold right there!

  My eyes alighted on the first Opal. Having carefully cut the mount, I hesitated a second before deciding to bring my plan to fruition. So you want hearts, eh? Well, well…

  Four stones arranged in a series. Four bloody symbols of the bride’s sacrifice for her country.

  Item created: Tavia’s Bloody Tear. Description: A girl’s pain and despair flowed into her tears. One of them fell on an Opal which—absorbing it—took on its form. Required to complete quest.

  +4 to Jewelcrafting. Total: 109.

  +1 to Crafting. Total: 8.

  “There!” I said happily, once the light in my hands had dimmed and the sense of satisfaction from having advanced my main profession left my long-suffering body. As nice as it felt, I had to get a move on. I still had to go to my clan meeting today! I offered the stones to the gnome and added, “If you mount them on the tiara…”

  “There’s no more time to mount them, Mahan,” the gnome interrupted, looking at the stones with sadness in his eyes and not taking them from my hands. “The Duchess’s servants came by for the tiara yesterday. The wedding is due to begin in two hours. Tavia will attend her nuptial ceremony in an ordinary coronet. When the Duchess’s servants came by, I saw that you had failed to make the hearts like I had asked you. You were in the throes of creation…an admirable condition, one could say, but you did not manage the Jeweller’s task in time. So I quickly whipped up four stones, without even having the time to mount them into the coronet properly. The tears you crafted are very beautiful and they would look perfect in the tiara, but…Forgive me, my young colleague, I need to be alone now. You owe me 20,000 gold, like we agreed—you have failed the quest.

  Quest ‘An Opal tiara for an Opal bride’ failed.

  “What do you mean they came by yesterday?” I asked as soon as the gnome’s words sank in and the notification appeared. “Have…have I been working for an entire day?”

  “Twenty-two hours to be precise,” the jeweler replied. “Your clan members came by too and tried to bring you back to consciousness, but nothing they did helped. I had no more luck than they.”

  A cold sweat pierced me through and through, while my fists clenched of their own accord—there was a clan meeting yesterday!

  “Master, I…”

  “Mahan, I already know all I need! You are a rare craftsman indeed, but one should not rely on you when one needs something finished by a deadline. Allow me to leave you—I do not wish to see the Duchess when she comes in to berate my work…”

  Shaking his head, the gnome left the room, without even locking the door to the workshop. Not that there was much worth stealing—a handful of low-level Precious Stones—and even then only for those with Meanness or Theft. Before leaving the place, I used my amulet to get in touch with Anastaria.

  “Stacey, hi! It’s Mahan…”

  “The sleeper has risen!” came the reply, in which, judging by its tone, I could distinguish both mockery and relief. “Sorry, I can’t talk too much at the moment. How about this evening? Just promise me that you won’t go into your trance again.”

  “Where are you?” I asked by reflex, though I hadn’t intended on doing so. It wouldn’t be polite of me to interrogate Stacey, but I was pretty curious about where she had gone off to.

  “At a wedding of two NPCs. There’s a huge celebration taking place here today—the Emperor and the Dark Lord are hosting a grand event at the palace. It’s quite beautiful as far as events go, by the way. It’s too bad you’re not here. The extra invitation I will go to waste.”

  “But I thought the wedding is still two hours away!” I objected. “I can still make it—it’s a 10 minute run to the palace from here.”

  “That would be lovely of course, but there’s a strict dress code in effect. Do you have a suit?”


  “No. Wait! Reander’s shop is not far from here! Meet me at the palace gates in twenty minutes!”

  Reander the Gnome was one of the NPC traders that the developers had introduced with a single purpose in mind: to create masterpieces that would to draw yet more money from players. Masterpieces come in different shapes and sizes—some people paint paintings, some sculpt sculptures—Reander sowed clothes. Along with its numerous craftsmen, Barliona had an enormous amount of tailors—both players and NPCs. Not everyone could afford expensive clothes and yet everyone wanted to look nice. As a result, Reander did not hold a monopoly on costumes for players, but he did hold a monopoly on perfect costumes for players. Gowns, dinner jackets, hats, boots—Reander did it all! And did it so well that even the Emperor did not hesitate to order outfits from him.

  “How may I be of assistance?” the shop owner asked me, adjusting his glasses. Creating Reander, the developers had tried their best to recreate everything that they imagined about a respectable master tailor who knew his worth well but did not like to show it off. Dressed in a checkered suit of his own creation, the gnome made a very pleasant impression. “Do you wish to order a suit?”

  “Forgive me, master, but I do not have time for that,” I said, understanding perfectly well that the price I would have to pay had just increased two or threefold. Automatically! “I need a suit for the Emperor’s reception, and I need it right this moment.”