The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (ebook reader for comics .TXT) 📗

Olaf: On it. It’s a very rare event. An invasion from Netherworld, a portal opened somewhere close by!

Abbot: Wrong! They aren’t mobs, it’s an NPC faction, look at the logs!

We lined up around Komtur, whose blinding aura seemed to ward off the demons. Tikhon was casually swinging around a warhammer enveloped in a shower of sparks, and several broken bodies of our enemies were already lying at his feet. Runes on the hammer head glowed bright blue, and the succubi were clearly afraid of attacking the leader of the Watchers.

They circled around him on their webbed wings, shamelessly showing off their assets, swooshed right past him, and kept trying to sink their claws into his head.

“A paladin! Girls, we’ve got ourselves a real live paladin! Dibs on him, don’t kill him straight away!”

Komtur raised his hammer, shooting out a blue lightning, and a screaming demoness came tumbling down, while the others hastily scattered in all directions. Abbot and Lorindale called out the targets, marking them, and focused fire destroyed one succubus after another.

However, more and more creatures appeared in their stead. There were hundreds of them; screaming and giggling, they swarmed around our warriors, every now and then grabbing someone from our ranks and pulling them away to pass on. A third of our raid were already dead, their icons red, while another third had strange yellow frames on their icons — the demons used Charm and some other kind of paralyzing magic. The Watchers had no way to counter it, as we had no idea what it was to begin with.

Abbot: Found it! It’s the Wandering Succubate!

Komtur: What’s that?

Abbot: Tikhon, we’re in deep shit. We need to give up. They’re about to attack...

Huge winged creatures joined the swarming succubi, rushing forward to lunge at our closed formation. I saw grey-green chitinous carapace, excessive muscles, and the scarlet slits of their eyes as one of the creatures rammed our ranks like a wrecking ball, scattering the players all around.

I was pushed aside, rolling over and hitting the stairs with my head. The UI informed me about 3-seconds daze. Several sharp claws gripped various parts of my body, piercing the armor. I heard a woman’s laughter and a short quarrel.

“He’s mine! No, mine! I noticed him first!”

With all my strength, I wrestled out of their grasp, simultaneously pulling out Aelmaris. In a sweeping motion, the shining blade split the air around me, turning several dawdling demonesses to dust. The survivors who managed to leap back or fly up didn’t seem distressed — in fact, they were gleeful.

Souls eaten: +3! Souls eaten: +1!

“Oooh, a pretty one! Such a bad boy! Girls, don’t kill him quickly!”

I was surrounded by female bodies only partially covered by lacework armor. The succubi grimaced, laughed, and chatted, beckoning to me, but were in no hurry to get close to the fiery sword. At the top of the stairs, behind them, the battle raged on, but I saw that we stood no chance.

Our supports were mercilessly cut down. Daine, who was in Komtur’s care, played her devious trick.

There was no more Daine. In her place stood a huge — almost seven feet tall — ebony black succubus with crooked claws in the folds of her batlike wings. She was armed with an odd whip. Komtur lay next to her feet, unmoving. His raid icon flashed and faded away.

Her eyes emitted strange light that paralyzed all Watchers in her sight, while smaller succubi swept them aside, giggling. They grabbed one immobile player after another, taking them into the air, and dropping them into the abyss of the well.

Olaf: Don’t die! I repeat, try not to die, if you can.

Komtur: I’m down. That bitch stunned me with Demon Sight. What are we going to do, then? How many are alive, seventeen?

Abbot: We’ll return via clan Mass Resurrection. But we need an anchor...

“Don’t be scared, silly! Come to us!”

The wall of succubi drew close. The raid was dropping — only a dozen players were still standing, the others charmed, with an unfamiliar icon next to their avatars in the raid interface. A winged shadow plunged on top of me, and without looking, I swung my sword. Flakes of ash rained down, making the demonesses cry out in admiration. I sensed sudden movement from behind and looked back to see swirling chains flying right at me. I managed to duck and dash aside, the metal swooshing an inch above me, but they were thrown from all directions. The spiked balls of those bolas-like weapons wrapped around my body and my legs, tying my right arm to my chest. The demonesses immediately flew up, and I was blinded by a powerful blow to my head that lowered my health enough to get it into the red zone.

Infernal Smash was used against you! You are stunned for 10 seconds! You are dazed for 10 seconds! You are blinded for 10 seconds!

Olaf: If they grab you, don’t die, don’t use Soul Stones. Try and hold on, we need five minutes to regroup.

Abel: Easy for you to say! They are succubi!

Olaf: Yes, they’ll torture you for a while. Keep going! Try to relax and have fun.

Abel: (censored)

Ten seconds were more than enough for them. I felt sharp pain in my hands and saw the icons of two more debuffs, Disarm and Bind, flash into being. The fiery sword limply fell out of my lifeless hand, replaced with a red cross in the inventory plot. I was lying spread-eagled on a wooden cross. Joyous demonesses raved around me, each of them trying to touch or scratch me.

“He’s mine! No, mine! I’ll get to play with him first!”

“Girl, heal him up, or he’ll die