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

only held value for all of this clique as long as I possessed the Key. The Magister was determined to use me and wouldn’t let me off the hook easily. Even if I wanted to leave the game in peace, I clearly knew too much. Abandoning the sword without ensuring a getaway route was not an option. However, the twisted road of serving Balabanov would only lead me into an abyss.

My father loved old musicals. I remembered one play with a trickster servant who managed to serve two masters at once with both none the wiser, also getting double the pay. I guess I was about to take on this role.

“I see you’ve decided everything for me,” I said after a pause. “Should I go then? The Magister’s waiting for my report, and I have my hands full, anyway.”

“This isn’t your war, HotCat,” Romanova said, staring right at me. “You shouldn’t stick your nose here, do you understand? I will tell you how to unbind the sword. Do you agree?”

“I need to think. For starters, I’d like you to confirm your commitment,” I said with a tired sigh. “I was promised something for my help with the Crown. Let’s do it in order—first the reward, then everything else.”

“What did you promise him?” The First Maiden turned to the Gravekeeper, and he started nervously fidgeting. Actually, when next to Romanova, Rocky behaved like a schoolboy guilty of playing pranks. Lena was clearly used to pushing her weight around, and I really didn’t like the controlling vibes emanating from her.

“I know you won’t like it... Three items from the Stronghold’s treasury. I had no other options; I couldn’t have gotten here by myself!”

“Any items?” Romanova asked. “You’re out of your mind. Svechkin, do you have any idea about what’s kept there? It’s unacceptable. And who told you, Dmitry, that you have the right to make decisions about the Stronghold’s assets?”

“Fine, I get it. You don’t want to pay me, and I’ll have to give you the sword,” I concluded. “Honestly, working with the Magister is easier. At least, he doesn’t go back on his word.”

An uncomfortable silence fell. Lena drilled me with her eyes, her gaze fiery enough to light a match. Be my guest. I wasn’t born yesterday; something like that had no chance of putting me off. Still, I had to acknowledge—the First Maiden and I really didn’t get off to a great start. Svechkin coughed.

“I think it’s not the time to be uncompromising. Cat really helped us, and he’ll keep helping in the future...”

“Well, I’m not sure that he won’t turn us in to the Magister in an hour!” Romanova blurted out.

A loud knock interrupted our conversation. The familiar tall blonde in a dark blue surcoat on top of mithril scale mail came into the chambers, holding her helmet in the crook of her elbow.

“What’s wrong, Stella?” Lena asked her, frowning.

“Sorry to disturb you, First One!” The Maiden bowed. “Alarm! Players are approaching the island!”

Chapter 21

THE SILVER STRONGHOLD was a weird place. The shieldmaidens mostly resembled pseudo medieval space Amazons who wielded blasters disguised as magic weapons. Whose fevered imagination had created this faction? Over my time there, I hadn’t seen a single man among their ranks. Was it supposed to be this way? Is this why they were Maidens?

“We’re here. Take your places,” Romanova said with a chuckle.

The place where she had led us looked like a space station control center or a top-class conference room. Everything was shining, pleasing to the eye with sleek shapes and elegant outlines. The entrance immediately disappeared behind us, blending into the wall. The oval table was built from a white stone-like lustrous material. A blue star with seven points was drawn in its center—the symbol of the Seven Brothers. A comfortable armchair stood next to each of the seven beams. The star metal images on the curved chairbacks showed weapons: a sword, an axe, a bow, a spear, shuriken... It finally dawned on me that this place was designed for the wielders of the Keys; that’s why it had only seven armchairs. So this is where the developers were supposed to decide the fate of the Sphere of Worlds?

The First Maiden silently fell into the chair marked with bow and arrows and put her hand on the table. My seat was next to her. Svechkin sat a little farther away.

A bright stereoscopic image similar to a 3D hologram appeared just above the star. Spinning, it grew in size, and we recognized the Crown of Ice, surrounded by dark waters. The iridescent Glowing, the Stronghold’s shield, had faded, and the sharp white spires looked dead, drowned in the darkness of the Hole.

“The Glowing can’t be restored without resources,” Lena said. “You’ve completely destroyed the citadel’s magic shield. The overcharge incinerated the reactor, detonating all ellurite reserves. Fortunately, the other systems are still working. Let’s see who’s curious enough to come here...”

The image stirred as the camera zoomed in. I saw a round armored dome resembling a giant turtle that plowed the waves with its bluff bow, illuminating the walls of the Crown with a yellow cone of light as curious faces were glued to the portholes—I thought I recognized them.

The Abyssal! For some reason, Thrainul had turned the ship back and returned to the Crown of Ice, even if his original route was different, and I could swear that the curious Fayana Fly was the reason for that!

“There are two options,” the First Maiden said thoughtfully. “We could either destroy the ship before they find the hole you’ve made or—”

“Wait! Zoom in! I think they’re being chased!” the Gravekeeper interrupted her, intently peering into the image. I could also see the Abyssal’s searchlight darting back and forth as the ship slowly turned, volleys of fire blooming portside. Thrainul was aiming at something beyond the displayed area.