I needed four shadows to form the required elements. I stood up from the coffin, invisible and incorporeal, and dark wings composed of darkness itself manifested behind me—the same as Tormis had.
I shot upward, savoring the flight, and turned around on my wings, spinning, diving, and soaring, like a child who got a new toy. I didn’t need a flying mount anymore! Too bad that it only worked in the Shadow Plane, and my sojourn there was limited to ten minutes per day. I couldn’t linger.
The green lights of the Abyssal disappeared in the distance, and thick clouds of mist floated down below, huge serpentine shapes looming among them. Meanwhile, the Crown of Ice grew closer and closer, shining through the shadow like a dazzling star. Yes, distance felt very different in the Shadow Plane! Just thirty seconds before, the Crown was on the horizon, but there it was, close enough to touch. I had to avert my eyes from its brilliance, as looking at it hurt.
I circled around it and found a nice landing spot next to a weird gap between pointed facets that resembled a giant arched doorway. Just like the entire fortress, it was shrouded in an impervious iridescent veil—the shield that Thrainul had deemed indestructible.
Well, I was on location. As I returned to the material world, I sighed in regret, touching my back. The shadow wings were gone. Too bad; I really enjoyed flying.
So what should I do next? Decompress Svechkin? As I threw it into the snow, the jade fencer figurine transformed into a bandaged mummy clad in elegant leather armor. However, without a fancy head-dress, he no longer resembled a dandy musketeer. Without a word, I handed the Gravekeeper his rapier and plumed hat.
“Huh, it’s really the Crown,” Svechkin said, seemingly surprised. “How much time has passed?”
“Eight and a half hours. Did you expect to see the Magister instead?”
“Possibly. Eight hours is a good time, nice.”
“By the way, I’ve always wanted to know what NPCs feel like inside the statuette,” I said. “Or when awaiting respawn for a full day and night.”
“Nothing. Time stops,” Rocky replied dryly. “For me, a second ago, we were talking inside the cave on the Isle of Madness.”
“Hmm... Then how were you going to leave in twelve hours? Were you bluffing?”
“No. I have my own secrets. “ The Gravekeeper chuckled. “All right, let’s get to work. Funnily, you’ve picked the right spot—this is the entrance. Now we need to crack it open.”
The icy needles tangled together really did remind me of humongous arched gates. But how would we open them?
“Your Key can summon True Fire,” Svechkin said. “I know this for a fact—you wouldn’t have killed the Guardian without it. Whirlwind, Warrior, something with uncapped damage. It could overload the citadel’s defenses. Go!”
He pointed at the rainbow glow of the barrier that blocked our way. Actually, using Blazing Warrior had occurred to me back when Thrainul told me about players trying to break into the Crown; the idea was nothing new. The cooldown was already over, and I was ready.
Rocky flinched when my body transformed into blue fire. It must have been a frightening sight—a human-shaped mass of fire incinerating everything in its path. Too bad that Blazing Warrior worked only for a minute. As I saw clouds of smoke rise around me and felt myself falling into the ice, I charged forward.
The iridescent glaze immediately disappeared, bursting with a sorrowful ringing hovering on a single note. The northern lights in the sky flashed and went dark. A new line appeared in the combat log—the damage I had dealt had so many digits that I couldn’t count them. Yes, ordinary players didn’t stand a chance here.
As the glow disappeared, I saw something similar to domed gates frozen in ice under a thick layer of hoarfrost. Large and double-leaved, they made us look like insects crawling at the foot of a colossus. Svechkin shouted from behind, having wisely chosen to stay away from me.
“Forward! Go forward!”
I picked up speed and rushed straight at the frost-covered wall that barred my path. I went right through it, barely feeling any resistance. Around me, ice melted, hard as steel, and stone crumbled, while metal curled in the glow of heat. In the cloud of steam, smoke, and sparks, I finally fell out into an empty space, leaving behind a gaping human-shaped hole with incandescent edges. The Gravekeeper carefully worked his way through the gap, cursing under his breath.
We found ourselves on the other side of the gates in a high and wide corridor. The walls and ceiling formed a truncated triangle covered by dimly glowing metal plates of dull silver color. Right before our eyes, the light turned crimson and started blinking, signifying alarm, and a booming siren sounded somewhere in the depths of the Crown.
I stopped. Blazing Warrior was counting down the last seconds, and Svechkin cursed again, side-stepping my melted footprints—the floor was hopelessly ruined, some of the plates having lost all durability.
“Alarm! It was triggered by the unsanctioned opening of the citadel!” he said. “Romanova installed a defense of some kind. That’s just like her. We need to go deeper!”
“Traps?”
“Hell if I know what she could have put here,” the developer grumbled. He summoned his Key, and the glowing blue shuriken formed a spinning ring around his head.
“Keep close!” I said, activating the Greater Shield of Shadows. Whatever awaited us inside the Crown of Ice, a ten-million damage safety bag couldn’t hurt. Svechkin gave me a nod of approval, studying the translucent sphere around us, and repeated it upon seeing the shadow I summoned.
“I see you have your own trump cards!” he mumbled. “Really, a shadow incarnation in the third layer? Interesting... Send it forward, fifty steps or so.”
The corridors of the Crown were odd and unlike anything I had seen in Sphere before. The architecture wasn’t medieval in the slightest; mostly, it resembled the interior of a modern research building or even a spaceship. Futuristic design, cove lightning, smooth surfaces lined with metal, perfect cuts... The symbol of a woman’s head with a winged headband glistened on a matte-silver surface, her face frozen in a dignified half-smile.
The passage led into an inner courtyard shaped like a six-sided well. It split into six exits, three of which were locked. The same winged mask smiled from the metallic door leaves, and light originating from an unknown source shimmered somewhere above. When I tried to enter the hall, Svechkin stopped me. The shadow scout had already reached the center of the empty room...
Everything happened quickly enough to confuse me. A spectral whirlwind sprang into motion above the shadow, and graceful figures coming out of nowhere flickered around it, sliding through the air so naturally that I thought they must have wings. I only noticed flashing spells, elusive movements that blended together, and the glow of weapons I had never seen. The invisible warriors came into life for a few moments and disappeared again, leaving a pool of ectoplasm—my shadow, summoned with a level seven talent, hadn’t lasted even two seconds, despite its sky-high resistance values. It said a lot about their damage.
“Run! Quickly!” Svechkin gave me a push, and we took off, rushing into the hall. The developer’s intuition didn’t fail him, as a fountain of fire bloomed right in the spot where we had stood. It was a battle spell of some kind.
The booming sound made my ears pop. Led by Svechkin, we ran through the hall and up pure white stairs toward the closed doors—the largest ones in the center. Spectral figures surrounded us, raining down surprisingly powerful attacks on the Shield of Shadows. One percent down, two, three—even the entire PROJECT raid hadn’t hurt me as much! The dome’s health trickled down at an annoying speed.
“Stand aside!” Svechkin pulled at me, and I obeyed. A second later, another fiery fountain exploded right next to us. He must have had some kind of danger sense ability, or else how could the Gravekeeper predict attacks?
On the stairs, we faced the most furious resistance yet. I immediately destroyed the closed doors with a Bolide, and the invisible opponents banded
together, doing their best to stop us from entering the gaping maw of the doorway. Silver and blue, futuristic armor flashed through the haze of the shadow shield, fitting the warriors like a glove. Wearing solid helmets with arrow-shaped visors, they spun around, fast as lightning, their weapons glowing with magic. In a way, those creatures reminded me of the Forged, the Forgeworlds constructs, yet they were completely different. The Forged were firmness and power personified, while the invisible flying fighters were speed and agility. Their swift, elusive movements felt strange to me, but I couldn’t figure out why.
Like an implacable steamroller, the Greater Shield of Shadows knocked them back as they charged at us. There were two types of enemies: some kept their distance, and some rushed in to close quarters. Melee fighters and mages? More and more of them came in, the reinforcements diving at us from above on their white bird-like mounts. However, the claws and beaks of those “birdies” gave off a metal glow, and their feathers clanged like a chain of clashing swords.
“Hurry, the Maidens are coming to life! The Stronghold is waking up!” Svechkin yelled, spurring me.
The Maidens? The Stronghold? I had no idea what he was talking about. At last, we burst through the doorway created by the Bolide and ran up a wide staircase. The shield had already lost half of its health. It wouldn’t last much longer, forcing us to use our flaming weapons against those strange creatures. For some reason, I didn’t want to engage them—after all, they were our allies, the knights of the Seven Brothers, the faction guarding the Crown. But how was I to explain that to them?
Then the staircase ended, and we charged into a large hall, spacious and well-lit. That’s when I realized why Svechkin had mentioned Maidens—honestly, I should have figured it out earlier, having seen the graceful silhouettes of our opponents. The hall looked like a throne room with one exception: on the opposite end of the entrance, instead of a chair, stood a rectangular stone sarcophagus surrounded by a blue glow. The alcoves in the walls of the hall were put together like a honeycomb, each slot full of translucent liquid resembling crystal or ice while a frozen human figure rested in its depths.
They were girls, young and pretty, their hair flowing down their shoulders, cold expressions on their delicate faces that seemed alien thanks to their elaborate tattoos. They looked like real-life valkyries. Each was clad in form-fitting scale armor, carried a winged helmet with a solid visor in the crook of her elbow, and leaned on a sword, an axe, or a spear. Their gear gleamed dull silver, indicating mithril, while their cloaks, mantles, and capes were various shades of blue, ranging from cyan to raven black. The symbol of a winged mask and a seven-pointed star was everywhere.
They were also coming to life, one after another. Apparently, our invasion had triggered that process, and it couldn’t be stopped. The crystal ice in the multilevel alcoves disappeared, and the valkyries stirred. As if following a telepathic command, they put on their helmets and charged into battle, becoming indistinguishable from those who had attacked us.
“She’s there. Can your shield hold for a little longer?” Svechkin asked me hoarsely, pointing at the sarcophagus on the platform. “I’d rather avoid killing them.”
He was right; True Fire incinerated everything in its path, and each kill decreased the faction reputation. We broke into a run, trying to cross the large hall before the shadow shield fell under the onslaught. That moment was imminent, though. The Maidens’ weapons burned with cold fire as they circled us with furious cries, gracefully maneuvering. The shield’s health bar shrunk with each second. We had only a few minutes left, maybe even less, as more of the Maidens flew up, increasing the pressure.
With only a fraction of the shield’s health remaining, we rushed up the stairs, knocking down the double row of valkyries ready to defend their queen. We had to hurry, but I was wary of moving further—the barrier might refuse entry to a living body. The only way to finish our business was to leave the shield.
The open sarcophagus was a copy of the stone bed I had seen on the Isle of Madness. Inside, in a human-shaped hollow, rested a woman wearing the colors of the night sky. Her hands were stretched along her body, and a pendant shone on her chest: a seven-pointed star. Next to her lay a winged metallic mask, the image of which recurred throughout the fortress.
I saw a mole on her high cheekbones, black curls, and long arched lashes on her closed eyelids. I recognized those features and the dreamy half-smile on her face: I had already seen them on the walls of the citadel. She wasn’t conventionally beautiful, but something about her was bound to strike an impression: she had character. In her face, I also read iron will, a stubborn streak, and something else—a subtle peculiarity that made me slightly scared even despite her current condition.
The furious Maidens surrounded us. The shield had no more than a minute left to live, and I loudly told that to Svechkin.
“Got it,” the Gravekeeper replied, letting out a heavy sigh. The stars of his Key flashed blue and started spinning around along complicated trajectories.
“I have a defensive ability, but it will only stop them for ten seconds or less. Let’s do it this way: when your shield runs out, I’ll cover you, and you’ll wake her up! There will only be one attempt. Don’t fail!”
“How? How should I wake her up?”
“Like in the fairy tale,” Svechkin said with a chuckle, and I gave him a confused look. Still, there was no time for a conversation. The Shield of Shadows gave way, and the valkyries charged at us, only to be stopped by the sphere of True Fire formed by Rocky’s spinning shuriken.
How was I supposed to wake her up? What fairy tale had he meant? But Svechkin was cut off from me by the swooshing stars and completely focused on controlling them. There was nothing left to do but to leap to the sarcophagus.
Romanova’s body was warm but showed no signs of life, even when I pulled her by the shoulders and gave her a firm shake. A light pat on the cheek produced no effect, either. I remembered the instructions for reviving unconscious people and slapped her face with all my might. Lena’s face twitched helplessly, a red stain bloomed on her cheek, but she didn’t wake up. So what was I to do?
Something clicked inside my head. Just like in the fairy tale, Svechkin had said. I remembered our old home, the book my parents had read me in my childhood, its worn-out cover with a picture—a girl in a crystal coffin, a prince leaning over her...
I bent over the sarcophagus and kissed the sleeping beauty. Her half-open lips were soft and warm, and when I touched them, Romanova’s body moved. Suddenly, she answered my kiss, rising slowly from her stone bed, her eyes still closed.
“Maxim?” she whispered when I broke away. Her eyes opened wide, revealing the rare blue-green irises, and she pushed me back, standing up.
“You’re not Maxim!”
Her push turned out to be quite powerful. Unable to keep my footing, I fell down, and a second later, Svechkin collapsed next to me as the wall of True Fire dissipated. The Maidens’ spears glistened, looming above us. I clenched the Resuciato pyramid in my hands, preparing to cast Resurrection, but the sharpened tips froze an inch away from our bodies.
“Everyone, stop! I said, stop!” The voice of the awakened woman came from behind us, hoarse but nonetheless commanding. Romanova left the sarcophagus and stood up, frail and short, yet full of some kind of inner energy. Her face was already hidden by the silver winged mask.
“Stella, what’s going on here?”
A tall valkyrie wearing a raven-black tabard on top of scale mail stepped out from the ranks of bowing Maidens. She pulled off her helmet with an arrow-shaped visor and knelt down, bending her head with a crown of platinum braids.
“Greetings, First Maiden. These are trespassers!” The valkyrie’s blue eyes glared at us from her tattooed face.
“These miscreants broke into our citadel, destroying the Glowing. Following the order, the guardians of the outer circle woke up. However, they were unable to destroy or stop the invasion, leading to the rousing of the
inner circle. The Elders woke up. Unfortunately, we couldn’t stop them either...”
First Maiden’s silver mask turned toward us, and I felt her gaze probing us, lingering on our faces, the silver hilt of Aelmaris, and the throwing stars clutched by the bandaged Gravekeeper.
“Lena, it’s me,” Rocky said, but the tip of the spear immediately closed in on him, forcing him to fall silent.
“Put them both into an Absolute-class cell. If they misbehave, kill them,” Romanova said. “Whoever you are, you came uninvited.”
Interlude: Project Hell
Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series Page 25
