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

of hours. Everything was fine, but something seemed off. Thousands of raids had visited the Crossroads. They must have explored it a lot of times, and I couldn’t believe that none of them had the Ancient Gene. Players who professionally farmed the Ancient spots probably knew the secret — but never shared it.

I paused to think, replaying Tormis’ words in my head, and then flinched. The god had given me the key, after all. He said, remember the Tombs of Necromancers. So what had happened there?

I recalled the memory. After putting on the ring with the “See Unseen” ability, I saw a key that nobody else could see even if they wore the ring. Maybe a similar principle was at work in the Crossroads? I didn’t have that ring with me, it was lying in a chest back in Eyre, but I could find a replacement.

Having made up my mind, I approached our air mage, a golden-haired beauty called Nirvana. She was resting next to other Watchers.

“Hey, could you cast See Unseen on me?” I asked her. “Do you have that spell?”

“I do. Why’d you need it, though?” the girl asked, curious.

“Just wanna test a theory...”

“Cat, forget it, take a break,” her friend, Tooth, recommended to me. He was a burly guy with a powerful build who had the rare archetype “Barbarian.” “Abel’s a pro. If something’s hidden here, they’ll find it.”

But I insisted and got the buff. Abel might have been a professional seeker, but I was the only one with the Ancient Gene in the raid.

I marked the spot where the scouts had started and followed their trail, carefully inspecting the smooth walls covered with repeating pattern. The art of the Ancients rubbed me the wrong way — bizarre pictures of intertwined human and animal bodies, mouths agape, maws, eyes, handprints. Those images felt inhumanely detailed, obsessively correct down to each stroke. Looking at it for too long made my head hurt, and I started hearing a distant sorrowful dirge. I wouldn’t want to meet the painters. They clearly weren’t what I would call nice guys.

A blue light flashed in the corner of my eye. Had I imagined it? I shook my head, clearing my vision. After looking at those patterns for half an hour one could start seeing things. However, it was real. I walked toward the light, which was fifty yards away from me, at a brisk pace, almost breaking into a run.

It was an imprint of a hand with five outspread fingers, as if it was pressed from the other side of the wall. It had a thin blue outline, just like that key in the Tombs. So my guess was correct? Only a player with an Ancient Gene under the effect of “See Unseen” could see the secret messages of the Ancients? It explained why nobody had ever activated the Crossroads. Few players possessed the Gene, and such a combination lowered the chance of discovery even more. Still, someone must have solved that riddle, or artifacts from the Ancients’ caches wouldn’t appear at the auction on a regular basis.

So, what was I waiting for? Slowly, I pressed my hand against the image. My palm easily fit into the outline — going by the imprint, the Ancients had hands the size of a paddle, while their fingers were almost twice as long and had joints bending in different directions.

The blue line flashed, and I felt it grow warm. Got it!

A sharp screech made everyone leap to their feet. It repeated again and again, as if gears of a huge rusted mechanism were turning over.

Abbot: To me, everyone! Raid, assume battle formation!

 

Olaf: Abel, is it your handiwork?

 

At the same time, the floor of the Crossroads was covered with round cracks, bright blue light pouring out of them. The Kann-Elo signs written all over it were flashing the same color. Then the floor moved, breaking into multiple platforms. The Watchers ran toward Abbot, jumping over the cracks to reach safety at the entrance to one of the tunnels.

The thing that used to be Crossroads was shifting in various complex patterns, changing its form. The stone rotated around its axis in the blue radiance. Several more turns of the “Rubic’s cube,” and everyone stopped once again.

The Crossroads looked completely different. It had a circular platform in the center that held a strange contraption reminding me of an apple-shaped cage. The beams of the spherical mechanisms were riddled with glowing Kann-Elo characters.

Abbot: What is this?

 

Olaf: I don’t know, but it does look like a lift. Abel, check it!

 

As soon as one of the scouts crossed the border of the “cell,” we heard a sharp low sound. A refusal! Kann-Elo characters turned red and started to blink.

Abbot: Stop! HotCat, go first.

 

Unhindered, I climbed onto the platform and entered the device. As soon as I stepped inside, the red signs stopped flickering and once again glowed a pleasant blue color. The cage itself was made from strange metal, red with a green tinge, resembling ancient bronze. Its curved beams were strewn with hundreds of pictogram characters. In the center stood a mushroom-shaped pedestal with a handprint similar to the one on the wall.

Olaf: The Ancient Gene is in effect. Come in, but be careful.

 

The open sphere was big enough to accommodate all forty-seven Watchers with room for more. I thought that it could easily fit a hundred, at least. As expected, my presence allowed us to bypass the defensive mechanisms of the Crossroads.

Two of us possessed the “Kann-Elo Knowledge” ability. Elle, Fanboy’s pawn, was a professional archeologist. The other, to my surprise, was AlexOrder. That said, my friend was always full of secrets. Together, they studied the characters written in the language of the Ancients that were engraved on the other side of the cage, looking for the