The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series Roman Prokofiev (top ten books of all time .TXT) 📖

asking him to move a large batch of valuable metals to the Bazaar. Word of mouth worked: Octopus had a reputation as a reliable transporter, and it was his contacts who gave him most of his orders. Keith checked the customers: no suspicious activity in the kill rating. Those guys were absolutely clean. Two hours of work, two jumps through the Astral Plane, and he’d get forty grand. The only problem was that the clients didn’t have a wharf for astral ships, especially of such class, as they were present only in the capitals of kingdoms or fully upgraded clan castles. Keith was to land Crabstrocity on its belly next to the outpost, so it could be loaded with cargo.

“I don’t like this,” Astr grumbled. “The money’s good, but we won’t be able to fly up fast.”

“Be cool, man,” Keith replied. “It’s peace and quiet here. Guarded carebear lands. We’ll get it in and get off. Ready the anchors!”

* * *

 

“I’m bored, “ Stabber yawned. “Somebody, tell me, why are we watching this place again?”

“Ask Tao,” Snake snapped. “He’ll tell you everything real quick.”

“Well, I like pushing carebears around,” Sulphide said. “Seven kills yesterday, three caravans. Not so bad.”

“No way to move the loot, though. We really should figure something out, “ Mercaptan backed his brother up, as usual. He and Sulphide were twins in real life and created similar characters in Sphere as well.

“And today, zero!” Snake piped in once again. “Tomorrow, too! They’re no fools. They must have realized we’ve blocked this place for good and fled to their masters with their tails between their legs... By the way, Tiall, is everything all right there?”

Tiall was a halfling rogue and a scout, a member of the seventh constant party of PROJECT HELL. Currently, he was busy circling his clanmate’s camp. Simultaneously breathing fresh air and using Search, he was checking the surroundings, seeing if anyone alive found their way nearby. The task of the seventh and the eight constant parties was to completely block any movement in that region — and for three days straight, they were quite successful.

Tiall: Everything’s clear. Not a soul in sight. There are two random dungeons, Wolf’s Lair and Forgotten Crypt. Wanna go?

 

The twins nodded in unison, while Snake cursed. At this point, dungeons were a real pain in his neck, as boredom could transform even the proud PvP lovers from HELL into farmers.

“Snoozefest,” Stabber yawned once again. He pulled a huge two-handed sword from the sheath and started stroking it with a sharpening stone. It never hurt to increase your damage by a few points. Snake scowled at him and turned back. Both brothers, the necromancer and the black healer, quietly sat by the tent, cowls on their bald heads. It really was boring as hell.

Snake: Tiall, could you maybe go check on the carebears? It’s late, but some of them might be farming the dungeons. Search around.

 

Tiall: Roger that.

 

The border of the Wild Lands wasn’t far, and in just thirty leagues’ distance, there was a big outpost of local dwellers: a level three outpost. Half an hour later, the scout came through.

Tiall: Alarm, guys! They’re all online, gathered around the outpost. Forty players, getting ready for something.

 

The PROJECT’s party got excited, a shadow of hope appearing on Stabber’s bored face.

“Maybe they’ll try breaking through,” he said dreamily.

“We’ll crush them, then,” Snake mumbled. “But they’re clearly up to something.”

Snake: Tiall, could you go closer in stealth and find out what’s happening?

 

Tiall: Guys, you won’t believe it! An Astral van is here.

 

Snake: What? What van?

 

Tiall: Whatitsname, a nave. It’s going to land next to the outpost. I guess they’ll try to load it up. Here, look at the screenshot.

 

For a few seconds, the PROJECT fighters were at a loss for words. An Astral nave was a rare and expensive beast, hard to obtain; a real trophy for anyone’s kill rating.

After that, everything happened fast.

“Call to arms! Wake everyone up, send mass messages! Contact Tao!”

“Call the portal masters. Who’s at the castle today, Alkaron?”

“The first const party’s on board, Svoy as well, Peacemaker’s close!”

“Tiall, can you light a pentagram?”

* * *

 

As usual, shit happened suddenly. Whoosh, and you’re up! Keith remembered pretty well how he had driven into the rear end of a bus that suddenly stopped dead in its tracks. That’s what it felt like right now.

A blood red pentagram flashed just a breath away from him. Iridescent glow poured out, and straight lines of players fully equipped for battle stepped out: clan PROJECT HELL.

Borland felt as if someone had shoved a pile of shaved ice under his shirt. He dashed to the steering wheel, opening the ship’s interface. The main thing was to activate the Dome...

He made it just in time. A bluish sphere enveloped the nave anchored just thirty feet away from the ground. The gangway, the piles of cargo ready for loading, and the surrounding players all got swept away, scattered over more than a hundred feet.

Keith Borland: Alarm! Astr, turn on the engines! Throw in more ellurite! Nox, cast the anchors! Cut them off, for God’s sake! Ellaria...

 

He stopped short. Ellaria’s hit bar was empty, as his companion had been caught outside of the ship, smack dab in the way of the PROJECT’s raid.

The nave shifted, free of the tether. Firing up such a beast quickly was impossible, but slowly, inch by inch, the ship started flying up.

Around it, battle raged, as locals fought PROJECT. Their attempts proved unsuccessful, as they had no time to muster a resistance, and almost a third of them had already been sent to the resp point. The others were retreating behind the safety of the walls, as mage cannons started firing from the towers,