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

by Vasily Mahanenko

  “Thank you, Anastaria,” said the shocked Raniada, once Arien spit in Stacey’s direction, cast a portal and abandoned the field of battle. “She was really starting to get to me…”

  “Think nothing of it. We girls need to watch each other’s backs. If you see her again, call me on your amulet. If I’m in-game, I’ll make sure to drop by. She and I have age-old accounts to settle…”

  “Stacey, can I join your clan? The Legends…I’d feel more at ease if I could.”

  “It’s not my clan. It’s Mahan’s.”

  “But all of Barliona knows that he is your husband and that the clan really belongs to you. I asked Barsina earlier, but I don’t have any special skills. I’m not a gatherer or a raider. I’m an ordinary player…”

  So that’s how it is? All of Barliona knows? How fun…You work hard to make a name for yourself and then it turns out this way.

  “Raniada…” Anastaria began, but the girl interrupted her.

  “Alisa.”

  “Alisa,” Stacey agreed. “You’re mistaken. Mahan is the head of the Legends. He’s right here,” Anastaria pointed in my direction. The Hiding spell had already expired and I was plainly visible standing behind the bushes. Oops! “If you wish to enter our clan, ask him, not me…”

  “I…” stuttered the blushing beauty but it just so happened that right then the majordomo reappeared:

  “The Emperor is ready to receive you. Follow me.”

  “How do you like the girl?” Stacey asked as soon as we set off after the majordomo. “She’s a dear, isn’t she? A Shaman too…”

  “Agreed. A worthy victor. I like her beauty mark in particular.”

  “Will you accept her into the clan?”

  “I don’t know. If she asks me, I will. If she doesn’t, I won’t. I certainly won’t chase after her, screaming, ‘Raniada, please join my clan!’”

  “Listen, you mentioned that you wanted to take on an apprentice right after the Altameda quest. Why don’t you take Raniada?”

  “No thank you. I need to teach a player shamanism, not stare at her with enraptured eyes, terrified of missing a single gesture or word.”

  “So it’s like that?”

  “Please, pass this way,” the majordomo opened the door, terminating our precarious spousal conversation, and a new curious notification appeared before my eyes:

  You have gained access to the Laboratory of the Emperor. Current level of palace access: 74%.

  “My daughter, are you sure you know what you’re about to do?” asked a painfully familiar voice, and I recognized Nashlazar. Or rather, it wasn’t the Siren herself, but her projection, occupying one of the chamber’s walls.

  “You too—oh my son—should consider,” the Patriarch’s projection appeared beside the Siren’s, looking pensively at Plinto with his arms crossed. The Siren, the Vampire, the Emperor…I turned and encountered the eyes of a much smaller copy of Renox, who merely nodded to me in a sign of support. Or in a sign of greeting. Hmm…The Labyrinth had left its mark on me after all: Looking at Renox now, I couldn’t help imagine how he watched as his own son was destroyed. Geez…he and I really needed to have a chat, the sooner the better.

  “I’ve made my decision!” said Stacey, taking one of the three places beside a large red stone.

  “What Vampire doesn’t like to take a risk?” added Plinto, joining Stacey.

  The palace laboratory was strikingly different from similar facilities I’d seen before. In addition to the mysterious red stone that occupied the room’s center and whose properties were rather laconic (“Philosopher’s Stone”), the room was entirely empty. There were neither chairs, nor flasks, nor cupboards—only the bare walls with their three projections and the Emperor with his ritual dagger. All we needed were some red capes and we’d be ready to start Barliona’s first Masonic lodge.

  “Take your place, Mahan,” the Emperor said, indicating a shallow depression in the floor beside the stone. “We will commence the ritual…”

  Our parents’ three projections (Nashlazar, as I understood it, was Anastaria’s mother) began to sing or even chant some vaguely familiar melody. Performing it in three voices, they managed in an instant to engross our attentions. The music was hypnotizing, and suddenly I realized that I was rocking to the cadence of the melody, having placed one hand on the stone.

  The Emperor began to say something about how he’d been granted the authority to conduct this ritual and that he was about to do this and that—but I submerged myself once again into the singing of our ancestors. Everything was mixed in this song—the mesmerizing voice of the Siren, the Vampire’s hypnosis, the forcefulness of the Dragon. The ensuing song was no less regal than the three sentient creatures singing it.

  “Are you willing, Mahan?” the Emperor’s question pierced the singing voices. I doubted he’d ask me something harmful, so I simply replied, ‘I am willing’ and returned to the ocean of sounds.

  “From now and unto eternity, Plinto shall be the blood brother of Mahan and Anastaria!” concluded the Emperor and the singing suddenly ceased. Abruptly, without warning or reason—the enchanting sounds were there and now suddenly they were gone…I frowned from displeasure, as if I had been stripped of something native, warm and pleasant…

  “I hereby attest Plinto’s lawful right to inherit everything that belongs to Mahan and I pronounce him Earl!” the Emperor went on, despite our clear dissatisfaction with the song’s interruption. “The ceremony has been concluded!”

  WHAT?! What do you mean, ‘concluded?’ We didn’t even do anything! In effect, there had been no exchange of blood, no cuts, no…The Emperor left the laboratory, leaving us on our own. The images of our virtual parents vanished as well.

  “Did you record the ceremony, Dan?” Anastaria’s thought immediately occurred to me.

  “Yes, but…”

  “Send it to me, will you? How’d you like the ‘Sounds of Barliona?’”

  “What was that?” asked Plinto, unable to hear our interior dialogue. “I could barely keep from weeping…Damn!” Plinto shuddered as if seized by a chill. “I’ve never felt that way before! That was…Damn! That was amazing!”

  “Those were the ‘Sounds of Barliona’—an aural array generated by our consciousnesses. Each of us heard that which our minds would consider a perfect song. Mine was this mix of rock and classical music, with the Siren performing the rock and the Dragon and Vampire comprising the classical in the background. What each one of us heard—has been captured by the video, in addition to our respective mental projections. Will you let me listen to yours, Nick?”

  “I’ll trade you. I’m curious what an ideal sound is for you and Mahan. Deal?”

  “Deal,” I agreed, sending the clip I’d recorded. “Plinto, since you are now my inheritor—the next round’s on you. It’s not every day that a Vampire becomes an Earl…But let’s get back to the business at hand—I propose we stop wasting time and head directly for Altameda this instant. I need to renew my presence there anyway. Here are the scrolls—I don’t want the guards to see us.”

  Sending over the scrolls of Hiding, I got my amulet and called Geyra:

  “We’re ready to begin. What are the coordinates to the Glarnis Dungeon entrance?”

  * * *

  “It’ll be faster if we take our pets,” Plinto said, peering sadly into the distance. I didn’t bother to buy teleports to the place we needed—I’d already spent an enormous amount of gold as it stood. Five kilometers on foot didn’t seem like much of a problem. For me, at least.

  “It would be faster,” Stacey agreed, “but we’d also let everyone know what we’re doing and then we can kiss our plans goodbye. Left foot, right foot—let’s go!”

  “Five kilometers! Let’s jog at least—I hate walking…”

  We were forced to stop twice to recast Hiding in order to ensure that we’d pass the cordons of players without being detected. At last, we reached the forest. According to the map, we had two kilometers remainin
g to the entrance and…

  Damage taken…

  “Those aren’t players!” yelled Stacey, casting a bubble over me. Just in time too, since that one hit alone had taken off 90% of my Hit Points. Who the heck was this? “Plinto—full throttle!”

  Apparently ‘full throttle’ means ‘kill everything around you without a shred of mercy, discretion or discrimination.’ In other words, ‘exterminate everything with extreme prejudice using anything in your arsenal.’ At least, this is how I understood it from what now ensued. I suppose I should make sure, but I keep forgetting to ask…

  Plinto instantly Accelerated, whipped out his poison-green dagger and vanished among the trees, leaving Stacey to cover my tender ‘flesh’—which had already become the destination for a whole onslaught of arrows, darts and spells. Thanks to Stacey’s buff, I knew I would definitely stay alive for the next ten seconds. After that, I’d have to crawl under the girl if I wanted to survive.

  “We’re under attack, Geyra! These aren’t Free Citizens—come help us.” Stacey pushed me to the ground anyway and covered me with her shield, but I managed to pull out my amulet and call our mercenary. Let’s see how our assailants deal with a huge group of Level 300 fighters.

  Experience gained: +700 Experience; points remaining until next level: 402,731.

  “HALT!” ordered someone clearly accustomed to issuing commands. “Put down your arms and cease all hostilities!”

  “Freeze, Plinto,” I wrote into the raid chat, throttling the conduit of free Experience flowing to my avatar. As much as I love XP, NPCs aren’t in the habit of demanding ceasefires without good reason—there must be some rewards here…And I love rewards even more than XP.

  “Mahan,” half hissed, half spat a man emerging from the trees—and it was all I could do to keep myself from ordering Plinto to scour the entire forest to its roots. The newcomer’s allegiance to the Shadow Empire was clearly evident—gray clouds of fog bloomed wherever he stepped and his eyes were just as gray and foggy. He had jet black hair and was dressed in a strict uniform. Shadows whirled about him. I didn’t even need to check the properties of this creature—and I mean creature—to know that one of Geranika’s lapdogs had ‘blessed’ us with his presence.

  “I propose a temporary ceasefire,” said Cain—Level 350 and demonstrably pleased with the impression he had made. “I don’t care what you think about me or my Master, but we have a common foe and may be useful to one another.”

  “A common foe?” I echoed.

  “Exactly. You need to capture Altameda. I need to destroy the monster inhabiting it. With or without you, I will destroy him. It will be easier with you. Just as it will be easier for you with me. Make your decision!”

  “Coming!” screamed Geyra as my mercenaries appeared several dozen meters away.

  “Geyra, hold!” I yelled, interrupting the onslaught. “No attacking until I give the order!”

  “These are servants of Geranika! They must be destroyed!”

  “Let’s listen to them first and then make our decision,” I proposed to my mercenary. “Put the weapons away.”

  “What a loyal lapdog,” Cain couldn’t refrain from remarking. “My Master loves people like you! You remind me of him, Mahan. I get the feeling as if I’m speaking to my Master’s son himself. It’s too bad that you betrayed him. The boss doesn’t forgive betrayal.”

  “I am utterly disinterested in what Geranika thinks of me,” I parried. “Geyra—surround them. Plinto—Cain is yours. Stacey—join Geyra’s group…Okay, now let’s talk…”

  Thirty Level 300 fighters, with plenty experience fighting shoulder-to-shoulder, and Plinto, who was effectively at the same level as Geranika’s officer, meant that our side had the edge here after all. I quite enjoy conducting negotiations under such conditions.

  “Sure, let’s talk,” Cain replied nonplussed. And it’s worth mentioning that he replied in the manner of Geranika—with a smirk and a show of being in complete control of the situation. “I repeat—we have a common goal. We both want to destroy the Altameda monster, so I suggest we ally ourselves. It is a bit difficult for me to fight my way through to the castle. There are too many Free Citizens around it, but you face the same problem. I watched you approach the castle every day to renew your ownership status. Casting a spell of Hiding isn’t exactly the stealthiest way to move around. Since you’re here, and what’s more, joined by two Free Citizens, one of whom may enter Altameda and the other one who can clear a path to the castle—I can safely assume that the front gates aren’t the only way inside. I propose we cooperate—until we leave the castle again. You wouldn’t say no to an extra fifty Level 330 fighters joining your group, now would you? Considering that Altameda is full of Level 380 phantoms…And, by the way, that’s all your fault.”

  Shadows flickered among the trees and the frames of my mercenaries all of a sudden indicated that they were under the Petrification spell with a duration of 5 minutes. Check and mate…1-0 to Cain.

  “We shall not engage in peace talks with the enemies of all life,” hissed Geyra, and I only now noticed how emotionally the girl was responding to Geranika’s warriors being in such close proximity. Her nostrils flared, her eyes were bloodshot, her hand twitched at the hilt of her sword—moment by moment, the mercenary was barely keeping herself from lunging at Cain.

  “How do we know that you won’t betray us the first chance you get?”

  “I will summon my Master and he will confirm my oath. Until we return to this forest or depart further than four kilometers from Altameda, you won’t meet a more loyal ally. Will you trust the word of Geranika?”

  The only difference between the Emperor and Geranika was alignment, so why not believe him? In any case, as of the current moment there had been no precedent of such high-level NPCs ever betraying a player. These types of rules formed the foundation of Barliona.

  “Stacey? I really really don’t like this whole thing, but they’re right—their help will come in handy when we enter Altameda. There really are many phantoms in there…”

  “Dan…I don’t know…Wait a little…”

  “Why did you attack us then?”

  “I needed to make sure that you were prepared for what awaited you inside. If I managed to kill Mahan, it would be obvious that joining your band would have been suicide. What did you decide?”

  “If we refuse, will you destroy us?” Plinto clarified the one point that I was worried about.

  “For what?” Cain shrugged. “We have the same job to do. If you manage to slay the monster without our help, you’ll still be helping us. What’s the point of eliminating yet another option for fulfilling our Master’s orders? If you refuse, we’ll simply go our way and I’ll commence storming the castle gates later this evening.”

  “What, with fifty fighters?” Geyra grinned. Even if it was a bitter grin, it was still a grin. That alone was good news. “If the Free Citizens don’t wipe you out, the phantoms will.”

  “The Free Citizens can’t enter the castle. And we don’t care about them anyway. As for the phantoms, it’s not like I’m offering you an alliance empty-handed. If we join forces, you will learn the might of the shadows. They have much in common with the phantoms.”

  “Dan, I’m for the alliance…They’ll definitely come in handy in the Dungeon. If the bosses there devour essences, then the shadows, from what I know of them, will be of great help to us. The one thing I wish I knew is why Geranika wants to do this. There’s a catch here somewhere!”

  “I know that there’s catch,” I agreed with Stacey aloud.

  “Wouldn’t be much fun without one,” Cain smiled utterly unabashed as before. “You have nothing to fear until we leave Altameda. Afterward…We’ll see how it goes…The Master is quite displeased with you…”

  “Agreed. We’ll be of assistance to one another. Anastaria, read him the terms of our alliance.”

  As proud as I was of my significant experience in drafting contracts, the girl still had me
beat by a mile. No one could protect us from unnecessary risks better than she.

  “I swear on my strength that I will fulfill all the terms of our agreement,” I said and a bright aura enveloped my avatar—the Supreme Spirits had accepted my oath.

  “I swear on the strength granted me by my Master, that I will fulfill all the terms of our agreement,” said Cain and Geranika appeared beside him.

  “Greetings to you, my failed apprentice,” smirked the former Shaman. “Anastaria, allow me to congratulate you on your recent promotion. It’s not often that Paladin Captains appear in this world. And you, Adept,” Geranika didn’t pass over Plinto either, “a fun life awaits you soon enough. Ask your father about Prophecy…I swear that Cain and his warriors shall fulfil all the terms of their contract with Mahan! Let Barliona be my witness!”

  “CONFIRMED!” A single word resounded, but when I came to, I was on my knees and shaking. I’d never heard an Emperor swear an oath before! I’d never considered it, but who had the authority to accept such an oath? Whose voice was this?

  Judging by the fact that everyone except for Geranika was strewn around the ground—everyone had been hit.

  “Dan, how I love you! Yet another riddle in this game! Do you know who that was?”

  “It seemed like the Imitator responsible for Barliona…”

  “That was the voice of the Creator! Barliona’s Creator! Check the logs—it’s all in there! He’s not dead! The Creator lives!”

  “At the moment we are of use to one another, Shaman,” Geranika went on after everyone had gotten to their feet. “But remember—you have no greater enemy in this world than me. We shall meet again—I promise you. And I can assure you that you won’t like our next meeting one bit. See you soon!”