I placed a hand on the crystal, feeling its warmth flow over me. It pulsated, flooding my bones and making my teeth vibrate unpleasantly.
Howling Winds Plateau Castle Control Panel
Owner: clan Widowmakers.
Begin castle capture?
I confirmed. A bar appeared in the air before me and began to slowly fill with red. The percentage at its center slowly grew: i%… 2%…
“Get Ripta and Anf here,” I ordered Flaygray.
The satyr rushed to fetch them. Whoever had come to help Eileen, I wouldn’t let them kill my guardians. The main thing was to capture the castle. The game mechanics would do the rest; throw out all the outsiders and encapsulate the castle grounds for an hour, rewarding the capturer with looting rights.
Judging by the claps, bangs and cries, there was a battle underway in the castle, and a fierce one. My guardians weren’t having an easy time. Their health hadn’t yet recovered, and the preventers, knowing who they would be fighting against, had come armed to the teeth. With divine artifacts, that was certain. Anf, already injured and barely moving on his broken limbs, survived only thanks to Nega. The succubus took control of Vivian just when she was about to activate an artifact, and hit Joshua in the back through her. I didn’t see any of that, but I studied the logs, saw ten million damage. More than enough to send the leader of the Children of Kratos, already barely alive after Anf s deadly venomous spiderweb, to the graveyard. Joshua’s spirit didn’t fly far; it got caught in Spirit Shackles.
I ground my teeth as I saw what was happening to Sharkon. Judging by his blinking red icon, the most powerful weapon of the Awoken was living out his final moments, and the damage dealt to him was from… Modus fighters? Where the hell did they come from?
The guardians took advantage of the enemy’s confusion to run, and Flaygray even managed to shut the door to the secret corridor tight behind him. When my friends appeared behind me, the castle was nearly captured.
An invisible horn sounded out a long tribute, declaring the change in ownership. The Widowmakers flags hanging on the walls flashed up and burned away into ash, the banners of the Awoken unfurling in their place—dark green, with a golden hippopotamus snout, a symbol that we’d never changed since the clan was registered.
The hour began. After confirming that Sharkon had survived and was still within the castle grounds, I dug through my packed inventory and found a gold coin bearing the emblem of the Goblin League. I rubbed it, tossed it up from my thumb… and Grokuszuid’s coin stopped, hanging in the air. This was the first time I’d contacted my auctioneer this way, so I watched what happened open-mouthed.
Grokuszuid’s head appeared opposite me, looked around from side to side curiously, nodded.
“Mr. Scyth! I see you have escaped from the unpleasant circumstances, for which we were partly to blame, not only with honor, but with profit. I dare say that the High Council would be willing to compensate you generously for our negligence.”
“Hello, Mr. Grokuszuid. We’ll discuss that in another time and place. Right now I want to offer you a castle that used to belong to…”
“The Widowmakers. I see where you are, Mr. Scvth. Remain there and don’t break the portal channel. The assessor will be here any moment now.”
“This castle is worth a hundred million,” Flaygray spoke up, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the goblin. “Don’t let him cheat you, boss.”
“The owner offered a hundred and fifty,” Nega added. “Giving away this luxury base for less than that would be criminal!”
“We will take that into consideration,” Grokuszuid answered dryly, peering at my guards with interest. “Most unusual friends you have, Mr. Scyth. Most unusual! Now I must ask you to take three steps back. The assessor is here. She will now enter the portal.”
She? So she was. A slouching goblin woman emerged from the portal, short even for her species. She looked around, walked over to me, jabbed a finger at my chest. Two sentients appeared behind her, a minotaur and lopher. Guards, it seemed. They stood up and placed demonstrative hands on their weapons, a halberd and a giant hammer.
I examined the assessor’s profile.
Kusalarix, goblin, level 35Q Merchant Assessor
Green League.
The Green League held the Arena battles and took bets from all over Dis. Everyone knew that, but few knew that the league also controlled all the dive bars, brothels and gambling houses in all three capitals. It was more of a mafia than a guild; they ran protection rackets too. Grokuszuid sure had some friends in low places. Some assessor! A cigarette hung from her mouth.
“Yo wazzup, nice joint,” Kusalarix rasped, emitting acrid gray smoke. “The Green League is in the buildin’. Gimme the low-down.”
“I don’t understand a word you’re saying, lady,” Flaygrav frowned.
“We’re selling a captured castle,” I answered.
“Damn straight you’re selling the castle and not this horny idiot from the Inferno,” the goblin declared, pointing at the satyr. “Slave trading has been forbidden by the Darant Convention since the Swarm Wars, in case ya slept through history.”
“Does that count for souls, as well?” Nega inquired. The goblin woman gave her a scathing look and didn’t answer.
“Let’s talk business!” Kusalarix spread her arms. “The Green League will take the castle and all its contents. I wouldn’t give you more than ten, but old man Grokuszuid asked me to give you an honest price, so you’ll get folly million…”
“WHAT?!” the succubus and satyr shrieked.
I was a little surprised myself. Just the contents of the clan vault might have been worth more than that.
“Hey, slow down, I wasn’t done. Forty for the castle, and the same again for the vault contents. That’s the ‘honest price’ part—you never know, the vault could be empty. Whaddaya say, dead man? We have a deal?”
Kusalarix the goblin from the Green League offered me a hand. Without looking at
