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

a rectangular doorway. The door shut behind us, leaving Svechkin and me in pitch darkness.

The shuriken flashed with blue fire, forming a spinning halo above the Gravekeeper’s head. The failing light illuminated a tiny square room without any windows, doors, or furniture. The doorway through which we entered had magically disappeared, blending into a wall. So that’s what an Absolute-class cell was like.

Svechkin started touching the walls coated with strange dull black metal. I heard several phrases.

“Demonite...where did she get it...aura...right, triple defense!”

“Could you explain what’s going on?” I asked him wearily. “I expected a different kind of welcome. Is she always like that when half-awake?”

“Sit tight, Cat. Relax!” Svechkin replied, carefully pacing the room. “We have a lot of time; you can take a break.”

“I don’t know about you, but I’ve been playing Sphere for almost twenty-four hours non-stop,” I said with a yawn, sitting down in the corner and happily stretching my legs. “It’s one thing after another... I’d love to use a Soul Stone to escape and have a good night’s sleep!”

“I said, relax. Or sleep here. It’s not like you can go anywhere.”

“What do you mean?”

“This cell is extremely well-protected. I think it can contain an entity up to the eighth rank. All portals are blocked, a powerful antimagic aura, and three layers of protection: demonite, star metal, and adamantine. Even our Keys won’t work. There is something that even the weapons of the Seven can’t overcome—see that black metal? It’s demonite, a legendary ore from the Netherworld, super rare. You’ve probably never heard about it.”

“I have. It has no durability,” I said, surprising Svechkin. “Black Weapons. I’ve encountered them.”

“Really? Ah, yes, you were hunted by the Pandas. It’s a rare item. In short, we’ll have to wait for Lena to come to her senses and start thinking logically. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. On the other hand, it’s understandable—unscheduled launch of the protocol, abnormal awakening. Two strangers with Keys burst into her inner sanctum, the Silver Stronghold, one of them a player and another a bandaged mummy...”

“Wait!” I interrupted him. “So you don’t know what each other’s digital copies look like?”

“We finished creating the Seven just before the accident. Each of us designed our bodies independently, to our own liking. We all knew basic information, but in the name of secrecy, all details—the appearance and nicknames of our alter egos, the location of caches with Keys—were to be kept under wraps until the protocol was activated. Otherwise, Balabanov—or anyone, really—could have easily gathered the Keys themselves, which, incidentally, Andrei is currently doing.”

“Odd. Then how were you supposed to recognize each other in case of a normal activation?” I asked, surprised.

“First, after certain...incidents, we barely trusted each other. Second, we expected to convene in real life before launching the protocol and discuss the specific details. Nobody knew that we would end up locked inside the game! By the way, it’s going to be hard for Lena... I wouldn’t want to be the Magister when she realizes what happened in the real world!”

“A femme fatale?” I grinned.

“Stop joking. What do you know about NPC ranks in Sphere?”

“They say there are eight of them, ranging from common mobs to deities.”

“Ten, actually, but that’s beside the point. The safest rank is the second. As long as your faction and respawn point exist, the NPC is practically immortal. At rank three, you get limited lives, and starting with rank four, the NPC becomes unique. They are much more powerful but have only one life. Almost all of us chose rank two avatars as bodies for our digital copies—except for Romanova. Her avatar is the First Maiden, the key figure in the Seven and the Keeper of the Silver Stronghold. I’m not sure about her rank, but it’s six or higher. Do you get it now? Trust me; she can kick up a real fuss in Sphere.”

Hmm. Interesting. Rank six was basically a goddess. So Romanova sacrificed immortality for power? Such a choice said a lot about her personality.

Curious, I sat back in a corner and started looking for information about Balabanov’s team online. Strangely, there wasn’t a lot, but I managed to find a few photos and videos. Digital copies were a funny thing, really. In real life, Dmitry Svechkin was big-bellied and tall with a sly face and a wreath of red hair around large bald spots, nothing like lean and swift-footed Rocky. Romanova, however, looked quite similar to her Sphere incarnation, even if much older and not as attractive. In reality, she was well in her forties at the very least. She had short hair, fancy glasses, and an intelligent face. She clearly felt like “one of the boys” in an otherwise all-male team. However, despite her femininity, even in her photos, I could see her iron will. Maybe she, not Balabanov, had been the real leader of the developers, but it was harder for a woman to become the face of the team.

Although my Rest bar hadn’t reached the threshold yet, I was terribly sleepy. Honestly, that was to be expected—I had slept less than four hours while switching between my two accounts and solving my own and clan affairs. The cell was far from comfortable, but I caught myself falling asleep right in the midst of browsing. It would have been better to log off and warn Svechkin, but waves of exhaustion rolled over me, putting me down before I could do that.

* * *

My sleep was interrupted as suddenly as it had started. I looked at the clock—three hours had passed. It was almost morning, yet I was still in Sphere. Hopefully, Alena wasn’t preparing to cut the cords yet.

It was Svechkin who woke me up. Someone else was in our cell.

It was a specter, a translucent glowing projection of the First Maiden—Romanova decided against visiting us