Hack, Slash & Burn 2: A LitRPG Fantasy, page 17
Calder relaxed and walked down the stairs. The squad, Berring Eight, had each of the four different base classes—like most of the Berring Squads—to keep it balanced. Calder informed them of what they were to do here, of the double-Proficiency they earned, and that they were to abandon the outpost rather than put their lives in danger, but didn’t stick around long.
He was eager to get home.
Calder made a return portal, trusting that whatever enemies it attracted Berring Eight would be able to handle. When he stepped through, he breathed in the sweet scent of the forest near his village.
That orc settlement hadn’t smelled right. After spending so much time there, breathing air from his own world felt remarkably good. The smell of pine and damp earth filled his senses, relaxing him. He glanced at his Proximity Scanner, finding the mini-map blessedly blank of enemies, then made haste back to the town. He activated Charge and used Dream Step and Portal to quicken his way there, making the few-mile journey in record time.
The Touched on watch opened the gates to him. Yesna, Peter and Luceen greeted him the moment he stepped through.
Luceen’s eyes glazed as she looked at him. “Level 55? You’ve been up to a lot today!”
Peter glanced over his shoulder, eyeing the smithy where Kohl had no doubt returned to after scouting Kashan with him. “I think it’s time for a debriefing. Not in the tavern.”
Yesna nodded sharply. “Agreed.”
Calder focused on Luceen. “How did your meeting with your mother go? Did you discover a way to bring back Graham?”
Luceen pursed her lips. “My meeting with my mother was… well, interesting.” She forced a grin, though it fell away in less than a second. “She wants to come here. Talk to you. Though I don’t know when that could happen, as she needs permission from her superiors.”
Calder inclined his head. He had wondered if something like that would happen. He supposed it was about time they open a line of communication with the Protectorate. “And Graham? The Spirit Construct?”
“There is a way… I don’t think you’re going to like it, though.” The Saint’s face went blank. “We’ll talk about it at the debriefing.”
Calder released a sigh, but didn’t bother arguing.
They congregated in one of the mayor’s house’s meeting rooms, sitting around the table. Calder poured them each a mug of ale, taking into account their Stamina attributes as he chose what to pour for each of them, glad they kept a stash of ale in the house for times like this.
Something told him he wouldn’t be receiving good news.
Calder sat at the head of the table, where the mayor would have sat were he still alive. He folded his hands atop the table and looked out at each of them. “Where should we start?”
Yesna sat up straight, her posture perfect, hands folded in her lap beneath the table. Her chin up, she looked at Calder. “Perhaps you should start by telling the others about our new settlement in the Dark World.”
Luceen, who had been sipping her ale, almost spit it back out. “Settlement? In the Dark World? Since when do we have one of those?”
Yesna’s right eye twitched almost imperceptible. “Since Calder decided to storm an orc settlement with two hundreds enemies boosted by an enchanted wall, one of those enemies being a powerful archer who almost killed us both.”
Calder raised a finger. “In my defence, he died and we lived.” For some reason, that didn’t seem to mollify Yesna, and the others wanted further explanation, so despite him wishing to know what they knew far more, Calder took the time to explain what had happened.
“How are we going to keep an orc settlement defended at the same time as handling all”—Luceen waved her hands, motioning toward seemingly everything—“this under control?”
“A rotating roster of squads will be in charge of defending it, and once we get the Spirit Construct going, direct communication between worlds will become as simple as opening a portal anywhere in the Dark World.
Luceen avoided his gaze, the inside of her mug apparently becoming rather interesting. “Yes, well, about that.” She fidgeted with her thumb, running it over the mug’s handle. “Well, you know how I said there is a way?”
“I remember. You also said I wouldn’t like it.” Calder moved his weight forward on the table, leaning closer to her, which only made her stare at her ale ever more intently. “What’s the way, Luceen?”
The Saint—Calder momentarily thought how much that classification didn’t suit the woman—gave a weak smile. “Well, first, from what my mother told me, only human Touched can use Spirit Constructs. That was something we had of course assumed, meaning only the human Touched in Dranador had access to them, not the orcs.”
While Calder appreciated that information, it wasn’t exactly what he was after right now. He made a “continue” motion with his hand.
“Spirit Constructs can only function in tandem with a Weapon Stone, and though a Spirit Construct can interact with up fifty people, it is still locked to its original user, which is whoever imbued it with mana,” Luceen said.
“That would be me,” Calder replied.
Luceen inclined her head. “Indeed. Which means you’re the only one who can recover the Spirit Construct.”
Calder sighed. “And how do I do that? What do I have to do?” When he had imbued mana into the Spirit Construct, it had disappeared completely. It had glowed, a light enveloping it, then it… turned into energy and entered his mind.
It wasn’t as though he could feel it inside of him, or access it. No matter how many times he had tried to speak with the ghost, Graham simply hadn’t answered.
Luceen finally looked up from her mug, locking gazes with Calder. “You need to shock the construct into restarting its system.”
Calder leant back in his chair. “Shock the construct… how?”
Peter swivelled his head, facing Luceen. “Do you have to hit him with a Lightning Bolt?” Though his voice sounded serious, his lips twisted at the sides.
“If only,” Luceen said.
Calder scoffed. “Yes, I’m sure you’d rather like that.”
Luceen shook her head. “I just mean, it would be far easier than what you actually have to go through. The Spirit Construct connected to your mind—your brain. The only way to restart it is to… starve your brain of oxygen.”
Calder frowned. “Oxygen?”
“Air,” she clarified. “You need to die and be resuscitated.”
Yesna shifted in her chair, her posture faltering. “That doesn’t sound wise.”
“There isn’t another way?” Peter asked.
“Not that she told me.” Luceen’s forehead creased. “I know I said Spirit Constructs are expensive, but maybe we can—”
Calder raised a hand. “I’ll do it.” It wasn’t just any Spirit Construct that he wanted. He wanted Graham back. He might have a faulty memory, but Calder had grown quite fond of the ghost. “I know the three of you won’t let me die. So, how do we do it?”
Peter looked between Yesna and Calder. “Before we talk about that… you should probably know what’s happening in Kashan.”
Calder frowned. “All right. What did you discover?”
Peter bit his lip, apprehension seeming to seize him. “Kashan still stands. There was no sign of Darktouched. Kohl and I circled the entire city before agreeing on that.”
“That’s good news,” Calder replied. “But something tells me that’s not all.”
“We figured it wasn’t enough to see what was happening outside of the city. Though I know it was a mistake entering Dranador… Kohl and I saw no other option for Kashan. We came to the main gates, which were guarded by low-level Touched Rangers and Warriors. Lighttouched, mind. The moment they scanned us and realised our levels, they sent for a Soldier of Light.”
Calder shut his eyes. He was sure he wouldn’t like what came next, though he was gladdened to hear that the Soldiers of Light were still in the city. He opened his eyes once more. “What happened next?”
“Apparently the guards suspected we might be Darktouched, as they had heard of what had happened in Dranador, but the Soldier of Light knew right away that we weren’t. He let us enter the city, and we spoke in the guard tower. It didn’t take long to realise who he was.”
“You know him? How?”
Peter shook his head. “No, but you do. His name was Ballam.”
Calder smiled. Ballam. The Soldier of Light who had come when Berring had been under attack—the first time. He had been the one to give Calder the Weapon Stone, along with two more, in the first place. “That’s lucky. Were it someone else, they might not have let you return.”
“Ballam,” Luceen said. “The one who was here?”
Peter nodded. “The same.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad…” Yesna trailed off, seeing the prince’s expression. “Though I sense you have left something out.”
Peter took a sip of his ale as everyone stared at him. A long sip. He wiped his mouth, placed the mug back on the table, bit his lip.
“Come on, out with it!” Calder barked.
“Fine. All right. But you’re not going to like it.”
Calder glanced at Luceen. “I’ve been hearing that a lot today.”
“Ballam said he was glad to see that we were still alive, and that he had heard of the army that had come for Berring—he had his own scouts keeping an eye on it. He told me to congratulate you, and that he hadn’t believed you would last this long.”
Calder chuckled. “He hadn’t, had he? That was something he chose to leave out when he handed me the Weapon Stone.” He sighed. “Did you tell him I was an Avatar of Light?”
Peter shook his head. “I’m not really sure that’s for me to tell, especially since we don’t know how the Protectorate will react to that, or even… what it really means.” He waved a hand. “He spoke of what happened in Dranador. All of the Soldiers of Light there were slaughtered. The emperor… my father, he let the enemy into the city through a secret passage, and they were… cloaked, somehow, from the Proximity Scanners.”
Calder’s eyebrows shot to the top of his forehead. “That can happen?”
“Apparently.”
“How many did they lose?”
“Twenty.”
Luceen released a small gasp. “Twenty Soldiers of Light?” Her eyes widened briefly. “That’s horrible.”
Calder had suspected something like this might have happened, that the Soldiers of Light meant to protect Dranador had been betrayed. How else could it have fallen to the Darktouched without the walls even being damaged? But he had hoped they hadn’t been killed—hoped they had simply escaped. Though he had known that hope had been naïve.
“You’re still not telling us something.” Calder gripped the mug in front of him. He hadn’t taken a single sip of his ale.
“Because of what happened, the Protectorate have proclaimed that the human population of our planet have refused their protection. That the betrayal is an act of war from the most powerful country in Halanor. In a week’s time, they will be pulling out all the other Soldiers of Light stationed in this world and leaving it to the Darkness.”
Calder’s mug broke in his hand. He hadn’t even realised he had tightened his grip so roughly around it. Ceramic shards clattered on the table in front of him, though they weren’t sharp enough to penetrate his Touched skin.
“You can’t be serious,” Luceen said. “The Soldiers of Light wouldn’t just abandon a world like that…” She drifted off, her gaze falling to her ale once more. “My mother never spoke of anything like this happening before.”
“She wouldn’t, would she?” Yesna said tersely. “Why announce their failures?” The priestess tilted her head to the side. “There must be a way to change their minds. To have them reconsider this decision.”
“The Protectorate aren’t so good at that,” Luceen said. “Once they have decided something, they tend to follow through. It would take a lot to change their minds.”
Yesna eyed Calder. “Sounds familiar.”
Calder had been grinding his teeth since he had heard the news, to the point where he felt one crack, then heal. Benefits of high Stamina. Finally, he spoke. “They are abandoning an entire world because of the actions of one country—one man? And these are the people we are supposed to look to for protection? These are the people supposedly fighting for the Light?”
Peter looked him in the eye. “I asked Ballam the same questions. He… disagreed with the Protectorate’s decision, but he is bound to follow their orders. According to him, the Soldiers of Light have far too few resources to spend on a world that doesn’t want their help.”
“But it’s not the whole world.” Calder wanted to slam his fist into the table, but as sturdy as it looked, he knew it would break under the force. He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to control his anger. Considering how many times he had controlled his anger after having activated Berserk, one would think that would be an easy task by now.
“I know, Cal. I know as much as you it’s not the whole world. My father…” Peter’s fist clenched on the table, and Calder saw the anger bleeding into the young man’s eyes. “His decisions threaten to doom us all.”
“What about your mother?” Calder faced Luceen. “She’s a Soldier of Light. Maybe she can speak to the Protectorate about this decision. Her and Ballam both—”
“That’s… not how it works,” Luceen said softly. “They wouldn’t even be able to get an audience.” Her eyes had gone sad as she looked at him. “When you were a foot soldier, would you have been granted an audience with your king or queen? Would they have let you dictate military decisions?”
Calder put up a hand. “I get the point.” He pushed off the table, standing abruptly. “I want to speak to Ballam myself. A week… it isn’t enough time. Maybe we can’t stop them from leaving, but we could delay it. But first… first we need to get Graham back in working order.” Instinctively, he laid a hand upon the hilt of his sword. “So, which one of you wants to kill me?”
Chapter 19
“Is this wise?” Yesna asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.
Calder lay on his bed. At least, the bed that he had claimed in the mayor’s house. His own bed, the one he had slept in before all this had started, had been burnt to the ground, after all. “We don’t really have another option. You’re the strongest healer we have. I trust I’m in safe hands.” He turned to face Luceen, who sat on the other side of his bed. “Now, how are we going to do this?”
“Considering how high your Stamina is, your body is going to fight this at every turn. It’s going to try and regenerate and… I’m going to have to stop it from doing so.”
Calder scanned the woman, looking at her stats for the first time since the Battle of Berring
Luceen
Level 50
Classification: Saint/Bloodletter
Attributes
Strength: 20
Agility: 70
Magic: 130+20=150
Stamina: 50+10=60
Perception: 50+5=55
Saint/Bloodletter. Calder couldn’t help but notice the contrast between her class name and her main class specialisation. Perhaps, under different circumstances, he might have found some humour in it.
Considering what was about to happen, however, it only made him inwardly cringe.
It was her Magic attribute that he was drawn to the most. It was even more powerful than Yesna’s—though he hadn’t scanned the Mystic since their fight at the settlement. He supposed the only reason it was so strong was because she neglected her other attributes. While both her main class and secondary class specialised in Magic spells, Calder was more varied, so he couldn’t focus on too small a selection of attributes.
“How exactly are you going to do that?” Calder asked.
Luceen pulled out her staff. She leant over his bed, her eyes intense. “I’m going to cast a spell on you. It’s a spell I picked up when I chose my main class specialisation. It will halt your health and mana regeneration for a short period of time. Unfortunately, it didn’t actually work on the Orc Destroyer—its defences were too strong.”
Calder frowned. He looked away from the woman and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t having second thoughts, exactly, but he was feeling a little less sure of himself. Yesna’s words came to him—when she had called him a bloody fool.
Considering all he had done, he struggled to find much fault in her words. Every action he made seemed like a gamble. So far, all those gambles had paid off.
But what if his luck ran out?
Luck. What luck? Dranador is under enemy rule. The Soldiers of Light are pulling out of not only Kashan, but Halanor, and I have to kill myself in order to restore our only Spirit Construct.
Maybe luck wasn’t the right word.
“Cal?” Luceen prompted. “If you don’t want to do this—”
“I want to do this. Well, perhaps want is putting it too strongly.” He cleared his throat. “What are you waiting for? Cast the spell. Let’s get it over with. And if I get to choose—which I think I should—I’d rather make this fast.” He looked at Yesna. “I trust you won’t let me die.”
Yesna rested a hand on his shoulder. “Of course I won’t. We can’t afford to lose our highest-level fighter.” She forced a smile.
Calder chuckled. “No. That would be a tragedy.”
The priestess took something out of her pouch of holding. “I picked this up at the Great Marketplace not long ago, thinking we might need it.” She handed him a root of some plant. “Though my healing abilities have made it unnecessary.”
Calder took it, raising an eyebrow. “Poison?”
Yesna sighed. “Valerian root. It’s a sedative. Though I don’t know how strong it will be…”
Calder eyed it, then chewed on it all the same, doubting it would help much. Still, he appreciated the thought.
“All right. Here goes.” Luceen’s lips were a thin line as she raised her staff. The purple crystal at its head took on a dim glow. She gestured the staff toward him, tipping it in his direction, and whispered a few words, “Cessat restitutio.” Her eyes watered as the spell was cast, blinking away a single tear.
