Condemned Book 5: A Progression Fantasy LitRPG Series (Lord Valevsky: Last of the Line) by Mahanenko Vasily

Author:Mahanenko, Vasily
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magic Dome Books
Published: 2024-03-04T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“ARE YOU SURE this is okay?” For what seemed like the hundredth time, I looked up at the small hill standing two hundred meters away.

“The High Priest assures me that everything is under control,” Alia confirmed patiently. “Max, there is no reason to worry. The Fortress knows how to make rifts.”

“That scares me even more,” I noticed, opening my map once again. The rift that just yesterday was a level nine had now reached level eleven. Two levels in less than a day!

Why had I suddenly become so concerned about rifts and monitoring what levels they had reached? The answer was simple: I was standing on the site where the imperial tournament would take place. There was no space in the capital for the hordes of participants and spectators who flocked from all over the empire, so it was decided to move the event outside of Turb. I couldn’t even imagine the resources it must have required, both financial and human, but within a mere week, a huge sports complex was erected, including a giant arena. Of course, everything was made of wood and obviously not meant to last, but the sixteen independent battle sites and one large arena that would host the finals made it possible not only to compete in quite tolerable conditions, but also to watch other competitors, if you so wished. On top of that, everything was free—tickets were only being sold for the final, in the central arena. The food prices in local shops were two, sometimes three times higher than in the capital, so many guests cooked food over fires in the tent city that had popped up not far from the battle sites. The river carried sewage further downstream, and, according to the map, residents of the southeastern region should avoid swimming in it for the next month, or face the terrible consequences. I had to hand it to the organizers, however—it was my second day on the site of the tournament and I hadn’t encountered any grifters or rowdy folks. There were sometimes skirmishes between overly zealous or rude fans, but they quickly died down.

And yet somehow, in this whole giant pot of honey, I still managed to find the one fly. Specifically, the rift that the Fortress was growing for me. It was located not far from the central arena and was monitored by a huge army of clerics and their doomed soldiers. I even saw a few familiar faces. I’d sacrificed sleep the night prior to watch the process of the rift being “fed,” but had been disappointed. The church had blocked off the entrance entirely and the doomed soldiers were preparing to repel the attack of random dark ones who, God knows how, would be able to break through the shimmering veil. No meat, sacrifices, carts with unknown cargo or other attempts were made to make the hole in the ground deeper, but by morning it was discovered that it had gained two more levels. As far as

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