Shadow Seer (Rogue Merchant Book #3): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (english reading book TXT) 📗

“I hear you,” I told Panther. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll definitely give you a call. Something’s actually about to come up.”

“Really? Great! What’s this thing? Maybe I could give pointers!”

“I don’t like to whistle before I’m out of the woods. It might scare luck away,” I said with a smile. “All right, mate. Let’s finish this, and I need to run.”

We clinked our almost-empty mugs. Captain looked at me, strangely pensive.

I didn’t like that conversation. Everything appeared fine, and Panther seemed to be a nice guy. We were in the same alliance, too, as Unity had formally joined the Northerners as the sixth PVP clan. Still, Captain was clearly trying to make himself my close friend, and it made me wary. Maybe he just liked me; after all, I had invited him there myself. Or did he? What if he was trying to ingratiate himself with me because he wanted something? I considered this.

A private message chimed. I raised an eyebrow in surprise—it was Olaf, the Watcher’s analyst.

Olaf: Waiting for you in the castle, we need to talk. It’s urgent.

 Interlude: The House of Darkness

THE LARGE GATES bound with silver and black bronze budged, and a wave of flashing yellow light poured out of the gap beneath. Blood-curdling screams of pain came out, not human in the least. It sounded as if the screamer was flayed alive.

Tao sighed, giving a disapproving glance to the silent guardian standing still at the entrance. Their eyes crossed once again like two blades.

“Wait or leave,” Diamant said. The Lady’s guard looked like an ordinary warrior, but behind him, the black metal of the gate reflected a blurred dragon-like shadow that revealed his true form. Tao knew that Diamant was a True Dragon, a level five entity that had nothing to do with the pastiches ridden by players. He wondered about the veracity of the rumor that named him as the Lady’s secret consort.

The gates shuddered again as if someone was trying to ram them from the inside. The screams died down and then resumed with renewed vigor. The clan leader of HELL would have given a lot to get a peek inside and see the Lady deal with the top officers of the House of Darkness.

* * *

An enormous yellow eye that illuminated the entire hall faded away, replaced with a dark-haired woman hovering above the floor. Ananizarte’s beautiful lips curved in a sneer, her arms folded behind her back. With disdain, she glanced at the figures crawling about, rising from their knees and coming around. Just a second before, they had been screaming in pain, exposed to the merciless eye. At last, she had learned everything. It was time to pass the sentence. Everyone would get their due.

“Ardehetel! Come closer.”

A tall blonde—Highland Moon, the wife of Milv, the ardring of Ergial—stepped forward. She could be called pretty, but even her loose blue robes didn’t make her face soft. Ahelg, the Son of Sea, her firstborn, a large man in the armor of the sea brethren, tried to come with her, shielding his mother, but Ardehetel stopped him with a wave of her hand.

“You’re too ambitious, daughter of mine. You’re dreaming of independence, and your offspring value freedom and the sea more than our house. I will keep an eye on you. But you didn’t betray me, and I forgive you.”

Highland Moon hesitated and finally nodded, stepping back for her son to catch her up. The eyes of the goddess fell on the man standing apart from the others—a seven-foot-tall, well-built giant of proud stature, a mane of raven-black hair on his head.

“Ahelmar! Black Wind, you’re my pride, son of mine! Your thoughts are pure. You were the only one who truly wished to help, even turning your hordes west. You did right. Soon, we’ll need them here. I thank you, and I’m proud of you. You shall be rewarded!”

Ahelmar lowered his head. The goddess didn’t use words lightly, and her praise meant a lot, even for him, the commander of the Eastern Army that conquered the wildlands of Ketel.

“But I saw something else inside of you. That elven girl, Princess Protea—she’s become more than your plaything. Get rid of her. Our Blood is too valuable. Another wife is assigned to you.”

Ananizarte shifted her gaze to her next target, a black-haired beauty who looked like her carbon copy, only younger and prettier. The goddess’ look was burning with so much hatred that the girl recoiled, as if from a slap. She was afraid.

“Taeghal! You little bitch, you really wanted to outsmart me? You were the only one of my brood to receive the Eye, and you thought yourself my equal? Your thoughts are filled with a thirst for power, lust, and blood. You’re scheming behind my back, gathering followers, trying to seduce those loyal to me. You shall be punished!”

A blob of crimson fire shot out of the Lady’s hand and hit Taeghal’s face point-blank. The girl fell down, trying to quench it with her hands, and started rolling across the floor, howling wildly. Neither magic nor her blood could help her in Ananizarte’s abode. Watching her writhe, the Lady said coldly, “Wounds bestowed by gods cannot be healed. Stop squealing like a pig! Your beauty will remain with me, and you will get it back only after atoning for your misdeed!’

The goddess let out a vicious smile, focusing on a tall, lithe man in a black mantle with an intelligent and perceptive face and well-groomed silver hair. He attempted to withstand her look, his hand on an ornate book box hanging on his belt.

“You have pledged me an oath of loyalty, Lique, even if you’re not of my blood. You think yourself smarter than most, demon, and even now, you’re sure that you’ve outsmarted my Eye, purifying your thoughts