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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “So am I to understand that you guys are abandoning me?” I asked, feeling a bit melancholy. There was logic to what Plinto was saying, and iron logic at that. However, I wasn’t yet prepared to accept that I would be left without his support.

  “No one is abandoning anyone,” replied Anastaria. “We will kill the monster, but to spend three months in such a remote place…Mahan, you must understand that, in the end, this is a game, and volunteering myself for exile in such a low-level location is just not my cup of tea.”

  “I also have an issue with this,” Barsina butted into the conversation. “I’ve started my Druid training and the quest requires me to visit a number of locales around Anhurs. I won’t even be able to go deal with the monster. That’s just not possible for me right now. In a month-and-a-half, I’ll be all about it. Though, then the time will come for training with the Patriarch.”

  “So that’s three out,” I recapped bleakly and looked over at my subdued Officers. “What do you say? Are you with me at least?”

  “It’s four out,” Leite said unwillingly, barely pronouncing each word. “Mahan, if I’m honest, I have nothing to do there either. Running around raiding is just not my thing. I’ll be able to do much more for the clan here in the thick of it. Our finances need to be constantly monitored, paid, reinvested. Items need to be bought as cheaply as possible and sold as expensively as possible. If we end up hiring workers then I’ll have to manage a whole new area. And for all that, I need time and…more time. If I’m off raiding, I won’t have time to get anything done. All in all, the clan finances need to be taken care of, and I am ready to dive right into that job. But I won’t be Treasurer. Only the clan head can answer for the treasury. I mean, you.”

  “But the quest…” I began, only for Leite to cut me off:

  “I have lived fifty years without Barliona and believe me, I will happily live just as many. Running around killing mobs is not me. Instead, I’ll free up a pair of stats slots and get Trade and Eloquence. I’ll focus on increasing the clan coffers. What I’m trying to say is that if you are okay with it, I will commit myself to caring for our business.”

  Leite’s words were so unexpected to me that I had to pause and collect my thoughts. The idea that a player would voluntarily give up the chance to level up and instead commit himself entirely to the financial part of the game simply didn’t make sense to me. What about raids? Quests? Scenarios? Loot? I looked at the other players with astonishment and realized that Barsina and Anastaria were entirely on Leite’s side in this. The two women understood perfectly well that in order for the clan to develop, we would need a person dedicated to its finances, and such a person would have to be trusted without any further caveats.

  “All right!” Unwillingly, I accepted the fact that Leite would become the housekeeper. “In that case, provisions are your department. All the workers that I hope we hire, must work like robots. And they must always have the resources they need. The gatherers, likewise, must always be occupied. Otherwise, we’ll be paying them for nothing. Since we have switched topics to clan management, let’s continue the conversation. Anastaria told me what you decided at last night’s meeting. Has anything changed since then?”

  “Then I will begin,” Barsina instantly spoke up. “I haven’t managed to sort the mail you forwarded to me, but I have found several interesting offers in it. As I already mentioned, I met with Magdey, a Level 191 Hunter. My feeling is that he could make a good Raid Leader, but we will have to see. Back before I joined up with you guys, when I was still a mercenary, I went through several Dungeons with him. Out of anyone I have played with before, he is the most solid player. His leadership style reminds me of Anastaria’s. Clear orders, never any panic or pedantry. He has one demand, however. He wants to be Baron. He is willing to prove himself as Raid Leader first. He promised to find some more fighters and go through whatever Dungeon we choose as a test, so long as it matches the raid’s level of course. What else? I haven’t managed to meet anyone besides Magdey, but I do have ten meetings scheduled for tomorrow. By the way, you need to give me the ability to let players join our clan. At the moment, only you can do that. Otherwise, you’ll have to find the time to send the people I accept an invitation personally, which obviously I have no problem with.”

  “Okay, I’ve already done as you asked,” I agreed, having adjusted the clan properties.

  “I have a personal site that I used to use to advertise my services when I was a mercenary. It’s not getting any visitors at the moment, but there’s no need to pay the hosting fees either—I’ve already bought it. I have an acquaintance who can design us a clan site. He won’t work for free though. Oh! Completely forgot—on the topic of raids! The main question that everyone keeps asking me, and which I promised I’d answer today, is how we intend to divide up the loot and how much will we pay our raiders?”

  “If I recall correctly, the unspoken custom invented by god knows whom god knows when, is half of the gold dropped by a boss is divided among the raiders,” I replied to the girl’s question. “Everything else, including the resources and the ammo, goes to the clan. But half the gold is like a sacred cow that no one can touch. I don’t see any reason to change anything about that. There’s just one thing. I’d like to see our people well-equipped, so before storing the loot in the vault, the Raid Leader will have to make sure that all his raiders get whatever they need for the future. We’ll make an agreement that, if the players decide to leave the clan, then either they return the equipment or they buy it from us. The clan will pay for repairs. Let the players acquire their own elixirs and amplifications initially, unless we find a good Alchemist or Enchanter. For the moment, we haven’t any. As for payment…”

  “I can help with that,” Plinto spoke up. “Although I was a sham leader back in the Dark Forest, I did get a chance to see the salary ceilings tied to player level. I’m sending you the document now. There’s no point in keeping this information to myself. That clan doesn’t exist anymore anyway.”

  “Maybe I should become a Raider?” I said pensively upon seeing how much even Plinto, an ordinary fighter, could earn.

  “Sorry, but no way. Isn’t your last name ‘Total?’ No clan could afford you,” Barsina joked, studying the list as I was. “This is good. I’ve got what I need. Tomorrow I will send you a write-up of the results.”

  “I have another question for everyone: Does it make sense to let whoever into the clan, regardless of level, race or preferred playstyle? I’m sure that we’ll get many applicants looking for projections. We can take them and cut the chaff later.”

  “I’m opposed to that!” Anastaria spoke up immediately. “The more members in a clan, the harder it is to control. A single person can manage ten or twelve players, no more. Having many members makes sense neither to the clan nor to the clan treasury. Just the opposite: Everyone will be asking for money to pay for repairs. A clan’s level increases only when it completes quests or clears Dungeons. The only restriction is that the raid party has at least eight players from a single clan. And with all that said, the quests yield so little experience that I’m scared to even mention it. Since I have the floor, I’ll also mention that I spoke with some workers and they all refused to join our clan. We are too small and unknown. Our current rating is just 35,774—and that’s mostly thanks to Plinto and me. The situation with gatherers is the same. There are plenty of low-level gatherers who want to join up with us, but we don’t need them. We’ll have to pay them their salaries for at least three-four months and get nothing in return. The price for one pack of materials varies at the auction from one piece of silver to one piece of gold. A salary, meanwhile, is twenty to thirty thousand a month. There’s no benefit to be had, in other words. I do, however, have a proposal concerning the auction. We can find us our own auctioneer and make a deal with him—since it’s too expensive to hire one of our own. The auctioneers take a 10% cut from each transaction, but, believe me, their services more than recoup the cost. I also prop
ose we acquire a clan Accountant-Imitator to help Leite with reporting and payroll. If we start hiring people, we’ll have to pay salaries, maintain a balance sheet, withhold taxes and pay them to the relevant authorities. If we can automate this process, there’s no reason not to. If we don’t, we’d end up paying more in fines in the long run.”

  “Agreed. I’ll be waiting to hear from your contact to sign an agreement. Now, as I understand it, that’s all on the agenda, so we can…”

  “That’s not all,” Anastaria interrupted. “As I told you earlier, I want to resign from my position as clan deputy. I won’t be able to handle it. I nominate two candidates to replace me: Clutzer and Barsina.”

  “And, I suppose, no one is going to ask the nominees in question whether they even want to be nominated?” Clutzer quipped, looking at the girl quizzically. “I’ll be a worse deputy than even you are, so I’d like to immediately rule out my candidacy. Not my thing, sorry.”

  “Barsa?” Everyone looked over at our little Druid.

  “I don’t know,” the girl blushed under our attention. “I’ve never been a deputy clan head. I might mess something up.”

  “But you’re not opposed to the idea?” Anastaria inquired.

  “No. I think I’d even find it interesting. At one point I even wanted to start my own clan. I did a lot of research about how to make it profitable, but now that the opportunity is before me…I’m afraid.”

  “Okay, one more time, Barsa: Do you agree to become the deputy?” I asked again. Let everyone think I’m annoying, but I wouldn’t want to force an unnecessary headache on a player—and a free player, at that.

  “Okay!” said the Druid, sharply lifting her head as if she had decided on something. “I am prepared to become the deputy and I will do everything possible to justify my appointment!”

  It was a bit dramatic, what with the grand promise and all, but the main problem was solved, so I removed Anastaria from her position. Not two months had passed since she had been appointed, so she would not receive the Karmadont Chess Set quest. It’s silly of course to worry, but I’d rather be sure. I will offer Barsa a very nice salary, draw up a good contract that will protect the clan in case she suddenly decides to quit—shout out to Elenium here—and in general, will do my best to mitigate any possible risks. Paranoia is paranoia after all.

  “Another question,” Anastaria went on. “I received an interview request this morning. There’s a clan that is not very well known that is making a series about Barliona and they want to speak with us. What’s our PR policy? If we’re interested in promoting ourselves, then we shouldn’t pass up this opportunity.”

  “Schedule it for this week,” I agreed. “An interview won’t kill us, and no publicity is bad publicity. Clutzer, Eric—have you made up your mind about the castle? Are you with me?”

  “I won’t let you have Clutzer,” Stacey butted in again. “I want to put him through an obstacle course while there’s still time. As for Eric...”

  “Also negative, sorry,” the dwarf finished me off. “I want to get rid of Marksmanship—one of my attributes—and try to get Crafting going. You’ve told me so much about Craftsmanship that I’m simply itching to give it a shot myself. But to do that, I need to gain an audience with the Emperor and then study under a teacher.”

  “You don’t need a teacher for that business,” I muttered grimly.

  “It’s you who doesn’t need one. I do. Look, we only have two months before our training with the Patriarch, after which we’ll have lost another month. If I can’t get anything done in these two months, then I won’t ever become a craftsman. I need time to wrap my head around it.”

  “Okay, let me do a recap here: Anastaria and Clutzer are pursuing their individual goals. Plinto is getting ready for training with the Patriarch. Barsina is leveling up her Druid. Leite is becoming our financial guru. And Eric will summon his muse and submit himself to her whims and caprices. Did I get all that right?”

  “I will be in charge of the Raiders,” Plinto added after a moment’s thought. “I’ll wind them up to ensure that they hit the ground running. It won’t be hard and my being in Anhurs anyway will only help!”

  “I will focus on the workers and gatherers,” Anastaria said. “I’m sure I can scrounge up about a hundred in the next month. Simply make sure to give me permission to accept new clan members.”

  “Me too,” said the Rogue. “I have a couple acquaintances that I want to talk to.”

  “This is all fine and good, but have you all forgotten that we still have the Prince’s quest to deal with?”

  “Well, we have these two weeks to do it in. We’ll spend a week on recruiting, then Leite will teleport us on location and we’ll get to work.”

  “In that case, I have nothing to add but bon appetit! Let’s meet here again in four days. I’m sending the invite now. Thank you all.”

  Digging into my Roast de Raton, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone had just abandoned me. To leave me alone for three, or even two months in a castle that, according to Anastaria, is not much more than some ruins…It was as though fairness had quit this world.

  * * *

  “Good morning, sleepy head!” Anastaria’s happy voice sounded in my amulet. It was only seven in the morning according to the system time, so I wasn’t too happy (to put it mildly) to receive such an early call from the girl.

  “Did you hit your head, Stacey?” I grumbled without enthusiasm or welcome. “What’s so urgent that you couldn’t wait until lunch?”

  “I could wait until lunch,” Anastaria replied, her joy undaunted. “But Ehkiller is prepared to take you to the Thricinians only right this moment. The choice is yours.”

  “To the Thricinians?”

  “Don’t you want to complete your outfit? However, if you are tired and want to sleep some more, I will let Ehkiller know: Mahan is busy sleeping. He has important dreams to attend to!”

  “Where are you?” My drowsiness evaporated immediately, replaced by a further question that I didn’t hesitate to ask, “And how much will this service cost me?”

  “We are at the Thricinian place. I don’t imagine I need to give you directions. As for money, Ehkiller is offering you the opportunity to purchase the items; the rest is up to you. Make your decision!”

  “I’m on my way. Give me five minutes!”

  On the one hand, every beginning player dreams of a Scaling Item. On the other hand, it’s an utterly useless thing. A Scaling Item increases its attributes from level to level, allowing the player to forget any worries about clothes or armor. That is, to forget such worries up until Level 250 or so, when the items you finds in Dungeons are good enough that you can drop the Scaling Item and really start to specialize. And yet, Level 250 was still a ways away for me, so I didn’t have much choice.

  A breastplate, a pauldron and a cloak. Given the buff to my stats, I did not regret the money I spent in the least. All that remained was to put my recently-promoted profession to work and craft some rings. Then I could go take on whoever crossed my path. At the moment, I resembled one of the rich kids who had dumped colossal funds into the game. It’s all beautiful and cool of course, but unfortunately, utterly pointless in the long run. Let it be though! The important thing was that Thricinian items could not break and didn’t require repairs, which for high-level items were frequently more expensive than buying the items new again. So there’s a quandary for you—pay a onetime fee for your gear and forget about it, or change it every 5–8 Levels and constantly ponder how best to repair it or find a better version. What else can one do to forget about such outlays? One-and-a-half million gold went to the distant ‘long run.’

  “Hey Stacey, how did you get your reputation with the Thricinians anyway?” I asked as soon as Ehkiller left us alone together. If someone were to ask me what occasion prompted the head of Malabar’s top clan to personally assist me in my shopping—I would have a lot of trouble answering. The only reason I could see was that he alrea
dy knew that it was impossible to give me the Emperor’s scroll on the Karmadont Chess Set, so he was doing everything possible to ensure that I took some other reward. After all, we had made a deal, and that deal needed to be honored. “You know, as many times as I’ve been here, I still don’t see the Thricinians in my list of encountered factions. Is this like a Phoenix secret, sealed by seven seals, or something like that?”

  “Of course not,” the girl smiled. “There’s no secret here. The clans simply consider it bad form to talk about it too much. The Thricinians belong to the Danrei race. They aren’t like anyone in Barliona, and they live only in Malabar. The Anhurs Library has a book that details their history. You have to read it and then go to the Thricinians with the offer of collecting the shards of their world. Here’s a link. The Danrei only start talking about this topic once you’ve read the book. As for the shards, they are scattered about the Dungeons and the only way to get them is by raiding. And this, by the way, is where the secrecy around the clans’ reputation with the Thricinians is born. But again, the chief condition is that he who learns about it must read the book. When it comes to the Thricinians, I too have a big fat zero in my list of encountered factions. Ehkiller made sure to transfer that to himself. But, were I to approach the Danrei, they would allow me to start everything all over again. Make sure to read the book. It’ll come in handy.”

  The Thricinians have been added to your list of encountered factions.

  I didn’t put off Anastaria’s advice and headed to the library straight away. The book she recommended was located in the most remote and seldom visited section of the place. When I requested he bring me the book in question, the librarian simply waved in some remote direction, sending me to look for it on my own.

  At around one hundred pages, it was not too hefty of a tome. It told of the explosion that destroyed the home world of the blue-skinned Danrei. Traveling on a single spaceship they reached Barliona. As they were landing, however, an explosion shook the vessel, scattering every Thricinian item all over the continent in the form of shards. The current site of that failed landing is beneath the giant Lake of Sorrow, which some consider our continent’s inland sea. The Thricinians themselves had been in special capsules and survived, yet the remnants of their home world were lost. Essentially, the gist of leveling one’s reputation in this quest involves collecting these shards and helping the Danrei restore a portion of their former history. What a bunch, these developers! If you don’t know that such a book exists, you’ll never even think of looking for it! But even if you do find it and start reading it, it’s written so tediously that you could form the impression that a very talented writer was doing his best to make the story as dull as possible. And only once you have read the book cover to cover, does the Thricinian faction appear in your list of factions. A cunning trick!