The Citadel (Mirror World Book #2) by Alexey Osadchuk Page A

A gentle breeze was gradually dispelling the fog. I could make out the dark outlines of the towers.
    Finally I could see the stonework. Some of its blocks were the size of Kosma — and they weren't the biggest ones, either. In places, cement had been washed out revealing ugly patches of brown grass.
    Wait a sec. What was that? I noticed several human figures hanging on the wall. Their gray cloaks had prevented me from seeing them earlier. They dangled on the wall at about the height of an eight-story building.
    'What's that?" I asked.
    Uncle Vanya squinted at the scene. "How do I know? Could be masons refreshing the stonework. Or herbalists cleaning it from grass. Could be anyone. NPCs can find work for all and sundry."
    I choked. Some fun they were having here! Wonder what kind of task Captain Gard might have for me? Bring the stone from the highest point of the tallest tower in the Citadel. Reward: 5 Reputation points. Uh-oh.
    The foggy drizzle parted, revealing the gates of the Citadel. Like the jaws of a giant monster, the fortress' raised portcullis grinned with its steely teeth. We rolled along the road into its black mouth until it devoured us.
    This wasn't a gate but a tunnel. High overhead I could see gaping arrow slits interspersed with stone grooves used to pour boiling oil over potential attackers. If this was how they protected their rear, I could only imagine what the frontline was like.
    A squad of ten lancers met us in the inner yard. I took a better look at them and froze, stupefied. They were all level 300+, wearing Red Armor and enclosed helmets. They were armed with large full-height shields and long spears.
    "NPC guards," Uncle Vanya muttered, seeing my excitement. "Whenever the Darkies break through, they hold the fort for the first few minutes. Once the players arrive, they fuck off."
    I hadn't understood a word of it. Still, I nodded my gratitude as the awesome warriors' silhouettes disappeared behind us.
    As we drove through an unnecessarily ornate miniature arc, the system kicked back in,
     
    Greetings, Olgerd!
    Would you like to join the Maragar Citadel's common chat?
    Accept: Yes/No
     
    I clicked Yes .
    The moment I accepted it, I was flooded with messages from all sorts of people: some buying, others selling, yet others calling up raids. There were plenty of stupid messages in the vein of Howdy all! or Where do I go now? Every now and again, the system showered me with details of current events. One, called the Caltean Raid, looked especially nasty. There was one good thing: I'd counted seven invitations to join a raid to the Misty Mountains. That was good news. It meant that the location Master Adkhur had dispatched me to was quite popular with the local war dogs.
    Actually, Uncle Vanya had been right. The fortress was swarming with players who rushed around as if the devil was after them, especially in open areas.
    What really stood out was the abundance of scaffolds and building materials. Players, like some gigantic builder ants, were busy repairing the walls, some mixing cement, others lugging up stones. The air was blue with the bashing of hammers, the screaming of saws and an abomination of cussing and swearing. You might think the town had been bombed flat.
    Suddenly everything froze. Silence fell. A system message flashed acid-red before my eyes,
     
    Warning! The magic shield will expire in:
    05:00 minutes...
    04:59...
    04:58...
    04:57...

 
     
     
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    U ncle Vanya cursed and pulled at the reins. Kosma reacted by swinging his powerful head, darting off. Wow. I didn't expect that kind of speed from this behemoth.
    Scaffolds, half-repaired houses and players who dropped whatever they'd been doing flashed past the wagon's window. The town buzzed at the double, as if someone huge and invisible had poked a giant anthill with a twig.
    The countdown numbers kept dwindling. Something bad was about to happen.
    The first minute had elapsed fast — too fast.
    I didn't