Sleeping Player (Project Chrysalis Book 3) John Gold (simple e reader TXT) 📖

“Ekron, a wanderer, only summoned Beelzebub’s soul—his mental body, which is currently wandering around somewhere in the astral. For Beelzebub to come to our real world in the flesh, it takes an enormous amount of energy which they were planning on gathering with the help of sacrifices. It was going to be an enormous, seven-sided seal. Your demon was one of the victims prepared for the sacrifice. When you arrived on the island, the demonologists panicked and started the ritual early. That black stump you described was a trap, an astral energy conductor that your light hammer almost destroyed. It stopped the ritual, too. You have no idea how lucky we are that you were able to pull that off.”

“What was so lucky about it?”

“They were going to sacrifice all of Kkhor! Do you get it? A whole city offered up to summon one of the Inferno’s highest demons. But Ekron won’t be stopping there!”

“It sounds like I have a new quest.”

Anri takes over from there, as Greta is overwhelmed with emotion. She needs time to calm down.

“We have a quest we need to give to someone the academy trusts. You’ve already shown that you can hold your tongue and keep your cool around demons, and the fact that you’re that blasé when Greta mentioned sacrificing an entire city leads me to some very interesting thoughts.” The mage smiles, and I say nothing. If he only knew how many sacrifices I have under my belt. “The last time, demons invaded two thousand years ago, and the demonologists back then were able to find a way to kill the higher demons in our world and drive their souls back to the Inferno. Afterward, there was a witch hunt, with people out looking for scapegoats, and the demonologists were accused of summoning the higher demons themselves. For an entire month, they were slaughtered everywhere they were found. The result was an earthquake and a tsunami that wiped Kkhor off the face of the earth. Parts of the city have been under water ever since. The demonologist guild was in one of those regions, and it’s still deep underground.”

“Underground? You said the city was flooded.”

“Yes, that part of the city was flooded, but the emperor then gave the order to dump soil there so they could rebuild the city. There was a hidden motive, too. Many died in the earthquake and tsunami, and it was simpler to bury the whole lot than fish out the survivors. The mages hated the idea of burying them alive. Instead, they covered everything but the streets in soil, giving the people who were still alive a path to safety. That saved many lives, though the water later receded. Whole streets appeared deep underground, as did the ghosts of the people who lived there. Actually, there are several blocks under Kkhor populated exclusively by ghosts. Our underground pipes were built on top of them, even joining in places, though everything was closed off and collapsed after the ghosts showed up. Right now, we need the notes the demonologist guild kept, and they’re down in the ghost city. That’s the only place we can find information about ways to drive the Inferno’s higher demons out of our world.”

“Aren’t there other demonologist guilds?”

“That’s the only place the information was stored. We need you to get it.”

Great, you’re sending me down into the city of the dead! Why don’t you be done with it and drop me in the Gray Lands? Both of them tense up after they make their ask.

“What’s the reward?”

They’re terrified I’ll say no! It’s like the feeling you get when you go to the bathroom—Greta exhales and replies with a smile.

“Access to your duel for the title of Life Magic apprentice or fifty thousand gold. Complete confidentiality. You have three days to prepare, and then I’ll take you to the entrance to the ghost city. Tell Anri when you’re ready to go. I’ll find you afterward myself.”

I need to get my scholar title, and then I’ll go see those undead.

It’s noisy and crowded in the swordsmen quarter. There are all kinds of different warriors, from samurai to spearmen, and they’re wearing everything from heavy plate armor to light assassin cloaks. One whole street at the near end of the quarter is lined with stores selling all kinds of equipment for fighters. The sound of metal, whetstones, and yelling traders rings out over the steady flow of people making their way through the quarter, most of them headed toward the enormous gate on the other side of the street. It opens out into the city, where all kinds of adventures await.

Back when I was living in Sural, I noticed that the best stores are in the market’s back streets. The only people who visit them are the ones looking for the really good stuff.

When I arrive, however, I realize that it’s already getting late. Most of the stores are closed. Only the smithy is still open. The young blacksmith, hammer in hand, is making spikes out of a shimmering metal. It smells kind of odd in there. My nose tingles, and there’s a shroud hanging over the smithy.

“Don’t go in there if you want to stay alive. The accursed metal does mental damage.”

The old woman, who I didn’t notice—ridiculous!—is sharpening a scythe. She has deep lines on her face, and she’s wearing old clothes stained with weapon oil.

“Thanks, though that’s actually the kind of blacksmith I’m looking for.”

There’s a small store at the front of the one-story smithy. The blacksmith is working under an awning, his muscles rippling. Most of his attribute points are in strength and stamina.

As soon as I walk into the shroud, I understand what the old woman was talking about.

Damage received: 1000000 (ignored: 12500000)

6400/6400

The scary old lady would be