When Yar woke up, he was in no hurry to open his eyes, Heck.
His fingertips and toes still felt and remembered the dragon's jerking agony. It was a very unpleasant sensation. But this torture didn’t last long—no more than two heartbeats. Yar tried to feel something else, but he felt nothing but a brief flash of disappointment for his stupidity.
The strange, absolute silence for some reason seemed to be surprisingly cozy. He couldn’t feel his body at all. However, he was warm, comfortable and calm. Yar was seized with a feeling of complete security and thought with a surprise, Ha! I don’t feel any anger and regret.
Yar tried to cultivate hatred towards the necromancers that caused him so much pain, but a snow-white avalanche of kindness erased all his efforts. It’s cool.
He started the countdown, three, two, one… and then he opened his eyes and saw complete darkness.
Suddenly, something turned off and instantly changing its structure became fluid and mobile. Yar had the feeling that soft water ran through his body, freeing his eyes—and then he could see. It ran away from his face and ears—and he could hear. And then, finally, he could move his lips. Yar raised his head.
“Wow!” he said breathlessly. The picture of what was happening was impressive. It was not water, Yar’s senses had deceived him, it was a fine black dust resembling flowing graphite. It quickly flowed out of the large room.
It turns out that I was inside a shelter, completely covered or flooded with this gracious and strange substance, he guessed. Yar tried to understand what it was, but no matter how hard he tried to catch this material with his hand, he didn’t succeed.
“It’s elusive.”
While he was thinking how to succeed, the slippery substance was gone, and not even a drop was left in the room.
The shelter was completely cleared in ten seconds, and he smoothly immersed to the base. Yar examined himself, concluding that everything seemed to be normal—his health was at maximum, and he didn’t feel any consequences of the fall. Lyan was lying nearby at arm’s length, the symbionts were in place, and the stats and sources were all regular. Nevertheless, he did not avoid losses.
“Oh, System,’ Yar said with great regret, not having found Snake-Enchantress on his finger. He gritted his teeth viciously.
“I won’t leave here until I have found my snake,” he said menacingly, threatening someone invisible with his fist.
Yar was sad for a minute or two, but he needed to move on. He touched the base on which he was sitting: it was elastic, warm, pleasant to the touch, and was of a greenish-pastel color. Then he looked up, and a bluish, pleasant light was illuminating his refuge.
This is water, he realized suddenly.
Yar involuntarily leaned against a warm, rough wall, and it became transparent. The man studied the shelter more closely. It turned out that it consisted of three floors: a swimming pool was on the top floor, as well as a dining room and a toilet room. Resuscitation, rehabilitation and observation zones were then located on the second floor. A training room with walls absorbing any energy was on the ground floor. A narrow portal in the walls was used to move up and down. Yar was impressed by the pool—it was at least fifty yards long. He decided to take a swim right away, and he swam for a long time and with pleasure.
***
In the middle room, where he woke up, Yar went up to the wall, pressed his hand, and took a few steps back—a huge panoramic window spread out in front of him. The surrounding situation did not make him happy; he had to increase the transparency zone to a whole wall. Yar tried scanning, but nothing changed, because it was blocked by the shelter. However, there was something to look at.
A wight camp was located nearby—literally three hundred yards from the shelter. It was an unusual camp: just one bonfire and three tents around it. The fire was most likely just a tribute to tradition. The tents of the three higher necromancers did not look simple and, most likely, they were equipped with technological stuffing. There were about six thousand wights, and most of them were standing motionless, like stone columns, occupying the entire visible space around Yar’s refuge.
There should be other wights, for example, guard squads. Yar saw the confirmation of his thoughts almost immediately, by crossing to the other side of the shelter and making a small transparent square.
There was darkness, but the shining of the stars was bright enough for Yar. He noticed almost immediately two guard groups. One of them soon disappeared behind the nearest dune. However, Yar managed to carefully discern the second. The wights were now walking next to his shelter!
Yar counted twenty-three individuals in the squad. Two extremely nervous monsters quickly went ahead, and they bounced, spun from side to side, and sometimes sat down. Freezing for a moment, they sniffed and bullied their muzzles. The creatures were completely unlike warriors: skinny, hunched over, but impetuous, often leaning on their front legs while moving. They also had huge, humpbacked noses with wide nostrils and round, deep-set eyes, like those of a boiled crab. However, Yar was most struck by their grinning mouth and forked snake tongue, flickering back and forth.
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Unfortunately, Yar wasn’t able to read these wights’ stats, who were most likely performing the role of bloodhounds. A powerful wight, apparently the head of the detachment, confidently marched behind these two ‘lovely creatures’. Two rows of well-armed wights followed them.
After about an hour of observation, Yar realized that four detachments were roaming around the camp patrolling, and perhaps, there were other groups at distant approaches. The discipline of the necromancers was magnificent, so Yar didn’t doubt the presence of distant cordons and, most likely, other observers.
“Well, it’s time for me to take stock,” Yar said aloud, pacing the shelter. It was easier for him to think in this way.
“First, I seem to have got to the location where the necromancers’ burials with their servants are situated. I think there are more than seventeen of them. Second, these necromancers are clearly powerful wizards. In any case, I have never met such people before. In addition, their magic is non-standard. Third, these burials are most likely Ankh Bloodstained’s servants, so if I stay here any longer, it will be difficult for me to get out of here. Although, can I even go from here without this map? I still can’t answer this question. Fourth, the Cursed Lands qualitatively are blocking my best fighting spells. In addition to this, necromancers effectively suppress any allowed portals, completely depriving me of my usual mobility in battle. Well, what should I do? I need new tactics and new solutions in magic. Or might my opportunities work here in the shelter?” Yar suddenly guessed.
Yar immediately went into the Demiurge workshop. After two seconds of confusion, he began to yell and dance with joy. “Ha! Well, the Cursed Lands, you’d better watch out!”
His hands were trembling with anticipation; he had many incredible ideas. Yar had to stop and calm this mind by drinking some mineral water. His emergency plan was almost complete.
He didn’t leave the workshop, using the acceleration of time at full capacity. Yar laid out two swords from the storeroom on the table. Since the closed characteristics were revealed, and the main ones of both blades changed—due to the ‘scalable’ property—Yar, with interest, highlighted the stats of both swords in order to know as much information about them as possible.
Sword: Shadows’ Big Brother
Scalable
Does not require a level
Indestructible
Damage: Clear Weather, Day 5,000 - 8,000 (critical strike + 5,000)
Damage: Mist, Dusk, Night 8,000 - 12,000 (critical strike + 10,000)
+ 100 to Dexterity
+ 100 to Repelling an Attack
+ 50% Dual Swords
+ 50% Two-handed sword
+ 50% Critical Strike
+ 30 to all Darkness-related characteristics
Optional: always sharp, dark poisoning
First gain slot:
Essence
Spell
Curse
Artifact
1 use
Second gain slot:
Spell
Curse
Artifact
1 use
* Closed specifications.
Unlock Key: The Master of the Shadows achievement (unlocked)
Blacksmith Master: Unknown
Sword: Shadows’ Younger Brother
Scalable
Does not require a level
Indestructible
Damage: Clear Weather, Day 5,000 - 8,000 (critical strike + 5,000)
Damage: Mist, Dusk, Night 8,000 - 12,000 (critical strike + 10,000)
+ 100 to Night Vision
+ 100 to Evasion
+ 50% Dual Swords
+ 50% Two-handed sword
+ 50% Critical Strike
+ 30 to all Darkness-related characteristics
Optional: always sharp, dark poisoning
First gain slot:
Essence
Spell
Curse
Artifact
1 use
Second gain slot:
Spell
Curse
Artifact
1 use
* Closed specifications.
Unlock Key: The Master of the Shadows achievement (unlocked)
Blacksmith Master: Unknown
Sorry, unknown master, lost in centuries, I will continue your magnificent work.
From the very beginning, Yar had the idea of improving the swords.
He was going to use the Ognis rune—a true fire—that had already shown its effectiveness, and then he would add other runes and spells.
However, the longer Yar held these magnificent swords in his hands, the more he became convinced that although this was the most obvious way, it was most likely not the best one in his current circumstances.
What if I act on the contrary and draw the inverted runes? The information stated that inverted runes can only be used on enemies. Yar was thoughtful, and someone very cautious seemed to whisper to him, “The path of darkness, the path of darkness.”
“The path of darkness,” Yar confidently said, and he boldly proceeded to the intended. He was decisive: according to the ritual, having rejected all disturbing thoughts from himself, he drank blessed mineral water from his native planet and lit a Cuban cigar. When he was ready, he set to work.
Initially, the inverted runes were drawn on both swords, turning them a blinding blue.
‘Elyambi’—stasis, ‘Ognis’—true darkness, ‘Rambo’—theft of defenses, and ‘Magitic’— the abduction of magic.
Then, as if with a fire seal, he drew the true, not inverted runes, ‘Zizha’—ash, and ‘Akash’—modification.
Surprisingly, all the runes were installed without any hitches or cancellations.
The swords looked beautiful, and Yar raised them up to admire them—five runes glowed blue on the blades, and the other two were fiery.
All this time, while imprinting the runes on the hilt, Yar imagined how these swords would tirelessly chop the wights to ashes. He was triumphant and was about to finish his work when something odd happened.
“Phew,” Yar exhaled noisily. He was pulled out like a speck of dust and moved somewhere. He seemed to be falling endlessly; there was impenetrable darkness all around. Despite the fact that he was flying down and couldn’t even see his body, for some reason he was calm and even surprisingly pleased. Suddenly, Yar felt gentle female hands and a kiss on his neck, then a very pleasant, distant laugh. After a moment, he reappeared in reality.