Accidentally Summoned To The Dark Throne

Chapter 5: The Guild of Shattered Mirrors ‎

‎‎The oak doors of the Castra Adventurer Guild did not make a sound when they were pushed open. They made a groaning noise under the weight of the huge iron sentinel that stepped through the doorway. The rain outside kept hitting the streets of the lower district. Inside the guild, the air was thick with the smell of cheap beer, old sweat, and fear.

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‎The guild was packed with high-tier adventurers, mercenaries and local fighters. Usually, the guild was a place with warriors boasting and gold coins clinking. Tonight it was as quiet as a graveyard. The news of the vanguards' defeat at the Ironclaw Ridge had finally. Every veteran in the room knew what it meant. The Empire was in a situation. When the Empire was in a situation, it forced independent adventurers to fight on the front lines.

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‎Everyone looked at Evander's proxy shell as it entered the room. He had changed the way the sentinel looked using his Territory Management System. The standard military brass accents were now a dull silver color, and the huge iron shoulders were wrapped in a torn cloak of dark wool. To people, he looked like a high-tier rogue juggernaut, a wandering mercenary who had put his soul in a custom-built suit of prohibited magic armor.

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‎His silver mask reflected the light of the fireplace as he walked towards the main reception counter. His silent march aura was turned off, so the heavy crash of his metal boots made the floor vibrate. This made several lower-tier warriors reach for their weapons.

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‎System Status Sweep.

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‎Vessel Stability: Ninety-six percent.

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‎Local Network Connectivity: Stable.

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‎Threat Assessment: Not a problem. Ninety-four percent of the people are not strong enough to be a threat.

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‎Stop there a sharp voice said.

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‎A tall, built man with a scarred face and a silver plate on his leather doublet stepped out from the shadow of a private booth. This was Brian, the Lead Guild Investigator of the Castra sector. His hand was resting on the hilt of an executioner's sword at his hip. His eyes were narrow as he looked at the sentinel.

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‎The guild is under emergency lockdown by order of the High Priestess, Brian said. Prohibited magical constructs and unregistered heavy mercenaries are not allowed in the district. Identify yourself, construct, or I will have the defense circles on the ceiling destroy you.

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‎Evander did not stop walking until he was right in front of Brian. The height of his proxy shell made Brian look up to maintain eye contact with the silver mask.

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‎Activating Sub-Skill: Deep Appraisal.

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‎Target: Brian Vance.

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‎Class: Iron Bastion.

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‎Hidden problem found: Brian had a bad magical corruption wound in his lung from a prohibited black-market artifact transaction. His loyalty to the High Priestess was thirty-two percent.

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‎Your defense circles were built using the Radiant Empires matrix, Evander said. The synchronization node for those circles is under the floorboards of the north tower. I took out that node four minutes ago while walking past the wall. If you try to trigger the circles, it will blow up the mana capacitor under your feet and kill sixty percent of the people in this hall.

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‎Brian's face turned white. His hand tightened on the hilt of his sword. He did not draw it. A man in his position did not survive by being stupid. The entity in front of him had completely secret knowledge.

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‎Who are you Brian whispered.

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‎I am the Coordinator Evander replied. I am here to give a ledger to your Guild Master. Move aside, Investigator. Your lungs cannot take the pressure of a fight. I do not want to waste a valuable asset.

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‎The mention of his lung injury made Brian step back. He slowly moved away from his sword. Lowered his head, showing he was scared. The surrounding mercenaries gasped, unable to understand how the ruthless investigator had just been broken by two sentences from a mysterious iron construct.

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‎Evander walked past Brian. Marched to the heavy iron door at the back of the hall. He did not knock. He simply raised his hand. Pushed. The door swung open to reveal an office filled with velvet tapestries and shelves of old books.

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‎Guild Master Ovan was sitting behind a desk of polished wood. He was a man with sharp features, dressed in fine silk robes. He was holding a glass of wine, looking irritated and curious as Evander stepped into his office.

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‎You break my doors, override my investigators, and compromise my defense networks, Ovan said. You certainly know how to make an impression, stranger. I think you are the one behind the ambush on the carriage three hours ago. The High Priestess is screaming for blood. My scouts say three hundred liquid mana crystals have vanished.

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‎The carriage ambush was a necessary change to the local resource distribution, Evander said. He closed the door behind him. He walked to the center of the room, making the desk vibrate with the weight of his shell. I did not come here to deny what I did. I came here to give you the culprit.

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‎Ovan put down his wine glass. The culprit, he said. The whole fortress thinks it was a demon squad sent by the Demon Queen.

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‎The fortress is blinded by its dogma, Evander said. He raised his hand, and a small glowing blue scroll appeared in the air. It showed a log of financial transactions, shipping manifests, and encrypted communications.

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‎Look at the signatures, Evander said. The carriage was not intercepted by demons. It was routed into a spot by a command from the inner sanctuary itself. Specifically, from Bishop Malakar's communication crystal.

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‎Ovan leaned forward, scanning the glowing script. As the Guild Master of a border town, he dealt with corruption all the time. The data in front of him was so well-made, so perfectly integrated into the Empire's system, that it was completely believable. It showed a conspiracy where high-ranking nobles were stealing military mana reserves to sell to rebel factions.

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‎This is treason if it is true, Ovan said. A smile started to form on his face. If Bishop Malakar is involved in the theft, the High Priestess will have to launch a purge. It will stop her from issuing conscription orders to my adventurers.

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‎That is right, Evander said. The human empire is built on fanaticism and paranoia. If you give this log to the High Priestess's inquisitors within two hours, the blame will fall on your rivals in the sanctuary. The guild will be cleared of the failure, and the military will execute its officers instead of hunting down black-market merchants.

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‎Ovan looked up at the silver mask. You are giving me a weapon that saves my guild and destroys my enemies. What do you want in return, Coordinator? A man who can forge the system logs of the Radiant Empire does not do things for free.

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‎My price has already been taken, Evander said. As we speak, eighty percent of the stolen liquid mana crystals are being sold through the sub-guild channels. The gold, which is being used to buy every grain and iron ration contract held by the local merchant houses.

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‎Ovan's hand suddenly tightened on the edge of his desk. He stood up slowly, his calm demeanor vanishing as he understood Evander's plan.

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‎You are not just framing the church, Ovan whispered. You are taking control of the food supply of the border fortress.

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‎Evander said that the Castra outpost will have steel to wage a war within twenty-four hours, but they will not have any bread to feed the men who carry it. The military command will have to buy rations from the guilds. When they do, the guild will sell the rations back to them at a high price. This will give the guild a lot of profit.

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‎Ovan asked what Evander would get from this profit. Evander said he would get control over the movement of the army. When the High Priestess tries to move her infantry, they will not have food, which will delay them by four days. This is the time Evander needs. He asked Ovan if they had an agreement.

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‎Ovan was quiet for a moment, then he said they have an agreement. He took the glowing scroll from the air. The log will be in the inquisitor's hands within the hour. Bishop Malakar will be in chains by midnight.

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‎Evander. Walked out of the office. The adventurers in the tavern hall moved out of his way. He exited the guild. Walked into the dark, rainy streets. When he was in an alleyway, he connected his mind back to his real body in the Underworld.

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‎In the Underworld, Evander's real body was standing beside the throne. Vespera was sitting straight, looking at a three-dimensional map. The western river basin was blinking with indicators. Vespera said that Caelum has moved his infantry units into the basin just like Evander predicted. Caelum thinks General Zorion is retreating. He is actually chasing a ghost.

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‎Evander thought that Caelum's arrogance was making him do things. He will march his men into the basin, where they will run out of water. The lack of supplies from Castra will ensure that no reinforcements will arrive to save them. Vespera asked how the surface infiltration was progressing. Evander said the economic choke point is established. The human guild master has taken the bait. The inner sanctuary is turning on itself.

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‎Suddenly, a violent vibration went through the soul-link. Evander. A sharp pain shot through his head. Vespera gasped, her hands flying to her head. The System Warning said that an anomalous resonance was detected within the surface proxy shell.

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‎Across the divide in the rain-slicked alleyway of the human border city, Evander's iron sentinel proxy shell had frozen. A massive column of white light descended from the sky, pinning the golem to the cobblestones. The clouds above the city parted, revealing a golden geometric magic circle. The rain. The water droplets in the air were vaporized by the holy mana.

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‎The sound of iron boots marching echoed through the streets. The White-Sun Inquisitors, the execution squad, were marching towards the alleyway. At the front of the army was a carriage made of white marble drawn by six winged pegasi. High Priestess Seraphina stepped down from the carriage, her eyes fixed on the alleyway where Evander's proxy shell was pinned.

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‎She carried an ancient artifact, the Divine Eye of Judgement, which was spinning wildly and emitting a high-pitched frequency. Seraphina's voice echoed across the city, saying that Evander's digital theater would not go unnoticed. She said that Evander's soul carries the stench of the abyss.

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‎Evander tried to disconnect the proxy sync protocol. The Divine Eye had locked down his network access. The System Critical Error said that the disconnect protocol was blocked. The external core was trying to trace back the link to the source location. Evander's real body in the Underworld began to cough up metallic blood. He fell to his knees, his hands gripping the stone floor.

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‎Vespera screamed, trying to use her mana core to shield Evander's soul from the incoming divine purge. The golden energy was too piercing, cutting through her defenses. Seraphina's voice resonated inside Evander's mind, saying that she had found him. The silver sentinel proxy shell, on the surface, let out a burst of white smoke. The featureless silver mask cracked, revealing the glowing red essence of Evander's coordinator interface.

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‎A massive, brilliant silhouette stepped forward from the shadow of the alleyway entrance. It was Caelum, the Holy Vanguard. His combat aura was supercharged by the High Priestess's relics burning with a blinding radiance. His holy broadsword was unsheathed, humming with a kinetic energy. He looked at the cracking pinned iron sentinel, a smirk stretching across his face. He raised his burning sword above his shoulder.

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‎I told you before, Evander Caelum sneered at Evander, his voice full of hate. You are a useless person, Evander. Did you really think you could outsmart the Empire, Evander? Did you really think you could be in charge from a little hole in the ground, Evander? It's over. I am going to break this armor of yours, Evander, and then the High Priestess is going to reach straight through the rift and rip your real heart out of your chest, Evander.

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‎The golden mechanical eye in Seraphina’s hand started spinning fast, its lens locking directly onto the core of the Abyssal Coordinator class.

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‎It said: Commencing Source Purge Protocol.

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‎It said: Target Lifetime: Thirty Seconds remaining before Total Soul Dissolution, Evander.

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‎Evander was stuck in the mud on the surface while his real body bled on the floor of the Underworld throne room, looked up through the cracked silver mask of his shell. He looked at Caelum’s burning sword at the floating High Priestess and finally at the numbers in his vision that were going down really fast. Evander was completely cornered, his network hijacked his real location was found out. His soul is seconds away from being erased from existence, Evander.

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‎Even as the time started running out in his mind, the cold light in Evander's eyes did not change.

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‎System Error, Evander thought. His mind was thinking about a command that he had kept hidden away since he first fell into the chasm. If you want to purge the Coordinator, Seraphina... You have to open the gate, Seraphina.

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‎Evander started the override protocol, the last one, for Evander.