Battle for the North (Rogue Merchant Book #4): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (best beach reads of all time .txt) 📗
- Author: Roman Prokofiev
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Thirty minutes. The arachnids and the legionnaires burst into the clan hall, starting a frenzied brawl that I could barely make out. Players died by the dozen, immediately respawning, and spell effects obscured most of the action. Raid leaders worked their asses off, trying to set up the defense, but all of that was closer to a chaotic free-for-all. Having overcome Crow’s resistance, the Pandas reached the gallery and prepared for the final assault. Most of the gun posts in the citadels were silent, the defenders having died or retreated deeper into the castle, blocking the exits.
We had only one option left: defend the Key until the dome reactivated. After that, under the invincibility effect, we could use the advantage of clan respawn to take down all the enemies inside. The Pandas knew that, too, which is why their onslaught was so ferocious.
On that day, none of us counted their deaths and kills. We simply fought to the end. Siege golems froze, extinguished like candle stumps, all spells and abilities were expended, waiting for cooldown, Cey-Rus got lost somewhere in the thick of the fight, and the steps of the staircase cracked as the enemy relentlessly pressed forward, pushing us back. The Pandas were doing their best to advance and surround the resp point, and a fierce battle broke out in the clan hall. Eventually, they split us up, blocking those who died from returning to their comrades who defended the Key.
Fifteen more minutes. The throne room, the narrow passage, the doors that wouldn’t survive even a few seconds of attack... Our warriors were still fighting below on the staircase, trying to delay the enemy. The elite of the Northerners, the leaders, and their inner circle had gathered to the throne room to make their last stand. They dragged me there as well, pulling me out of combat almost by the scruff of the neck.
“Well, we can’t hold it,” Olaf said simply. “Let’s switch to Plan B.”
Evil Mook winced as if eating a lemon, and Komtur sighed loudly, biting on his lip. What was that Plan B? I had only one idea: the clan leaders wanted to blow up Condor, just like Heroes’ castle, dying but taking our enemies with us. If I can’t have it, neither can you. I didn’t really like that idea. Nobody gave me the floor, but I still decided to speak up.
“I still have the Shield of Shadows. I could block the entrance. It’s ten minutes or ten million of damage; they can’t take it down quickly!”
“Yes, it could work!” Komtur seemed encouraged. “It will last us five or six minutes, and then...”
“It doesn’t matter,” Olaf replied coldly. “They’ll cut us down even under the dome. There are thousands of them inside. Let’s stick to the plan.”
“I don’t see a reason not to try!” I couldn’t understand what was going on.
The clan leaders exchanged looks. Then Komtur waved his hand, and we formed a half-circle in front of the arched doorway. Noise came from the other side, and the first blow shook the doors.
“Cast your shield, Cat!” Komtur shouted, angry. “No harm in trying!”
The next instant, a thin, piercing squeal filled the air, followed by a wave of powerful heat coming from behind, and a deafening explosion popped my ears. A familiar pang of pain spread across my body. Was I dead again?
Captain Panther dealt you 980 damage with Hellfire! Your HP: 0/980.
You are dying! 60 seconds left till final death! 59…58…57…56…
“Pardon me, gentlemen,” Captain Panther, the Pandorum spy in our alliance, said. “But I cannot let you do that.”
Hellfire was the epic version of Grand Fire. It one-shotted anyone caught in its epicenter, even high-level characters, making survival impossible. Just one scroll was enough for Panther to take down the creme de la creme of the alliance, ready to protect the Key and the throne room. Still, to be safe, he followed it through by casting another Grand Fire, finishing off anyone who might have lived and sending us to the resp point.
I couldn’t understand one thing. Why was he still in the alliance? I had relayed Tormis’ words to Olaf back after the siege of Dark, giving up the spy pointed out by the God of Shadows. They should have started working on him. How had he gotten there in the first place? A betrayal, a backstab at the crucial moment was just what we needed! I couldn’t help but start wondering about Olaf himself. What if he hadn’t passed along the information for a reason? What if they were in cahoots?
In the meantime, I found myself in a respawn circle, not inside Condor but somewhere far away in the wilderness. Ice, cliffs, snowy mountain tops... Somewhere far above, several airships kept firing at each other. Hundreds of other spectral figures rapidly emerged around me, and tense silence fell on the Courier voice channel, sometimes interrupted by cursing in Russian. The fact that we had respawned in a neutral spot instead of the clan resp in Condor could mean only one thing: we had lost the castle.
Condor didn’t belong to the Watchers anymore.
Interlude: Yamato
“HOW MANY have you already discovered?”
“Six, so far. We stumble on all anomalous zones almost by accident, thanks to player reports. Complaints, petitions, forum rumors... I suspect there’s way more of them.”
“Agreed. Well, Victor, contact the community relations department, get them to prepare a press release. Oh, and ask the lawyers to amend the Agreement. We have to play it safe with these ‘anomalies.’“
“Got it. Can I
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