Hack, Slash & Burn 2: A LitRPG Fantasy, page 18
Calder looked away from the woman as a tingling sensation overtook his entire body.
Luceen has cast Halt Restoration on you!
You will not be able to restore your health and mana for 1 minute.
One minute. That didn’t sound like a lot of time for what they needed. Then again, he knew that a minute could feel like a year when one was in agony—and Calder had experienced his fair share of agony in his time.
He gritted his teeth, thinking of General Katan. Thinking of when his leg had been purposely injured. Of having to crawl away…
Calder shoved those memories away. “Well, come on. Haven’t got all day. Get on with the killing, will ya?”
“Guess I was right,” Yesna muttered. “You must have a death wish.”
Peter, who had been standing quietly at the foot of Calder’s bed, took an arrow from his quiver. None of them had wanted to volunteer to kill Calder, which he greatly appreciated. In the end, Peter had reluctantly agreed.
One of his skills let him enchant his arrows with fast-acting poison, something that would force Calder’s health down rather quickly.
Calder had suffered the effects of poison before, though apparently this was different to what an Orc Hunter could do.
Peter didn’t ask if Calder was ready. He didn’t say a word. His features looked as though they were cut from stone. Calder struggled to remember a time when he had seen the man trying to hold his emotions in so much, and the two had been through a lot in the past day.
The arrow in the prince’s hand glowed a dim green. Peter leant over Calder, his forehead creasing in concentration as he made a quick incision in his wrist.
Peter has hit you with Toxic Arrow!
You will receive damage over time for 1 minute.
The cut didn’t hurt. Not much. He wasn’t sure if that was the valerian root, or his high attributes, or perhaps his mind was numbed to what was happening.
The poison, of course, wouldn’t be enough to do the job on its own. The Hunter pulled a dagger from his belt—his harvesting dagger. Yesna came forward, holding a bowl under Calder’s neck, though he didn’t know if that would be enough to avoid the mess this would surely make.
I’m about to die and be resuscitated, and I’m worried about a mess?
Because of Calder’s Stamina attribute, and the fact that it was doubled by being a defender of Berring, it would take quite a bit of damage to do him in.
Even before Peter leant in to cut the artery in his neck, Calder began to feel weak. The Toxic Arrow coupled with Halt Restoration was doing its work, dragging down his health.
Peter didn’t hesitate. He cut a line right into Calder’s neck. Calder knew there was a time limit on his health regeneration returning, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about the lack of hesitation.
Once the artery was cut, the weakness he felt intensified. His body began to grow cold. He could feel it, fighting against what was happening. His fingers twitched, wanting to pull out a health potion. He clenched his jaw, else he might ask Yesna to heal him.
Lying there, not doing a damned thing when his body was dying, went against every damned instinct he knew. Calder was a survivor. This… this felt wrong in every possible way.
Yesna’s lips pressed together tightly. Her gaze avoided his, instead locked on the bowl and blood pouring into it—and out of him.
Luceen had both her hands wrapped around her staff. Her eyes were sad and gleaming.
Peter had retreated back to the foot of his bed, standing there with his hands folded together in front of him. The man wasn’t looking at Calder. Instead, he stared at the wall behind him.
Calder supposed it was a good thing his friends appeared to be struggling with this. As his strength fled his body, memories of his life struck him. He had never known his mother. She had died the day he was brought into this world. Yesna had been a mother figure to him instead.
His father had died far too young, leaving him with only his uncle.
He remembered receiving his first sword from Kohl at the age of six. Remembered hunting with his father as a child, his uncle as an adolescent. Training the sword, becoming good enough to compete. Signing up for the army, going on his first assignment. Border clashes that slowly turned into more and more conflict between Lorilan and Talna until the empire amassed an army to march upon them.
Lorilan losing the war. Calder becoming crippled.
Being handed the Broken Mug tavern by his uncle, not long before the man passed.
The world dimmed around him. His party became fuzzy, blurred. It wasn’t painful, exactly, but he felt weaker than after his leg was crippled. Felt like he couldn’t pull himself up if he tried. His body had stopped fighting, as though it knew there was nothing he could do.
Everything went black.
~
Calder stood in an expanse of white. His party. His room. Everything had disappeared.
He looked left and right, but he couldn’t see anything as far as his vision could stretch—and it could stretch to quite a distance.
Looking down at his wrist, Calder found no cut there. He touched his neck—no wound. He was in perfect condition, wearing his Sage Full Plate, his Sage Sword at his belt and Sage Shield on his back, though none of them had been on him when he had been lying in his bed…
Where in the world am I?
Where in any world am I?
Calder frowned. “Hello?” he called out to the vast expanse of nothingness. Was this the afterlife? He had never known if he believed in a place after life, though all the religions seemed to preach of one. “Is anyone there?” He gripped the hilt of his sword. The others were supposed to resuscitate him. Bring him back.
So why was he here?
“I don’t think I’m supposed to be here,” Calder muttered.
“I have to agree.”
Calder blinked. The voice sounded as though it came from every side of him and from within his mind, almost like when Graham spoke. Except it was stronger than Graham’s voice. There was more weight to it.
No, not weight exactly. Pressure.
Power.
Though the voice came from everywhere, his back itched, as though someone was standing behind him. He turned around and almost took a step back.
He hesitated to call what stood in front of him a man, as it didn’t look strictly human. It had features similar to that of the elves he had encountered. Its skin was perfectly smooth, its ears tapered to a point, its hair long and pale, draped about its shoulders.
But that’s where the similarities ended.
This man, person… creature, appeared to be built almost entirely of muscle. It wasn’t as tall as an orc, but somehow looked even more powerful than the Orc Destroyer. Its legs were armoured and it wore a breastplate, but its arms were bare.
The armour was a polished silver, intricate runes worked into every part of its surface area, and it had a dim glow about it.
It wore a two-handed great sword at its hip.
But Calder wasn’t focused on its armour or weapons.
At its back, two massive white wings—resembling the wings of a dove—spread outward. The wingspan must have been… thirty feet long.
The man—or whatever the hell it was—didn’t just look powerful, it radiated power, to the point where Calder felt the very air pushing down on him, almost as though it were forcing him to kneel.
Calder swallowed. “Who are you? Are you… a God?”
The creature tilted its head to the side. “In a manner of speaking. I am a Servant of the Light. I am what you might have become.”
What I might have become? A servant?
A God?
Calder tried scanning the creature, but nothing came up.
It smiled. “That will not work. If you were to see my full power, chances are it would destroy your mind. That is why I am restricting it and showing you this form.”
“And…” He glanced around. “Where am I, exactly?”
The creature raised an eyebrow. “You are where all those who have entered a pact with the Light go when they die. The Reincarnation Chamber.” The Servant of the Light inclined its head. “I am here to usher you onto the next life, where you can serve anew.”
Calder took a step back. He raised his hands. “No, thank you. That’s not on the agenda today.” He glanced behind him, as though there was somewhere to go. “As I said, I’m not supposed to be here. And didn’t you say you agreed?”
“You are the first member of your race to be become an Avatar of Light, and so, the first to come here upon their death.” The Servant of the Light looked up to the heavens—though all that was up there was more nothingness. “Making a human an Avatar of Light must be an experiment by the System. An unprecedented shift in the Design.”
“The System?” Calder asked. He had heard of the System before, of course. Graham had mentioned that other beings were born with access to it, while humans only gained access to it by the use of Weapon Stones, but he didn’t understand what it was exactly. “I thought I made a pact with the Light…”
The creature forced a smile. “The System. Light, Dark. Good, evil. These are difficult concepts to explain to one such as yourself.”
Calder’s face hardened. “What, to a human?” A part of him registered the fact that he probably shouldn’t be talking to this being in such a way, considering how powerful it felt—and this was when it was apparently restricting its power.
He could barely comprehend that. Not even the Orc Destroyer had felt anything like this, and it had been the highest-level being Calder had ever encountered. At least, until now.
The creature sighed. “No. I’m not referring to your humanity. I’m referring to your mortality, a thing that might have changed had you become stronger before your demise. Considering how long you lasted, perhaps the System’s experiment was a failure.”
Was this creature taking a tone with him?
The Servant of the Light waved its hand and a portal sprang into being beside it. It wasn’t a Light Portal or a Dark Portal. It was… both, and neither. A mixture of Light and Darkness. Not something Calder had ever seen before. The creature motioned toward it. “It’s time for you to begin anew.”
Calder took another step back. “That portal will take me to my next life?”
“Indeed.”
“Well, thanks, but no thanks. I’m still living this life, and I plan to do that for quite a bit longer.” Calder was tempted to draw his sword, but he doubted it would do any good. What did he expect to do, defeat this being that called itself something like a god? Come on, Yesna, why haven’t you brought me back yet?
“Ah, humans.” The Servant of the Light shook its head. “Arrogant, prideful, cautious creatures.”
Calder might have fit the first two, but considering all he had done and been through, he wasn’t sure that cautious really applied.
The Servant of the Light took a step forward, its wings bobbing slightly as it moved. A smile formed on its face. “I can push you through, if you like, though it’s better to walk through willingly. Don’t want to cause a rough start to your new life.” It tilted its head to the side again. “It will be interesting. In your new life, you will be the first human born within the System. I do wonder where you will end up.”
The first human born within the System. Humans and magical beings were different, Calder knew that well. Was the Servant of the Light saying when he was reborn, he would be a human with magic? Would he be born with a soulstone, like magical beings had soulstones?
Could that change the course of humanity forever?
He eyed the portal. A part of him wondered if it was his time. If this was why he had become Worthy in the first place. If this was the point of him becoming an Avatar of Light… to change the course of humanity.
But he wasn’t ready to give up on his old life. He still had far too much to do. Far too many things left unaccomplished. His world being under threat, for one. Besides, something told him the instant he stepped through that portal, his friends would no longer be able to revive him. He would be cut off from his life forever, with no chance of finding his way back.
Calder stared the Servant of the Light in the eyes. “I’m not done yet.” He considered using World Step, to take him back to his world, his body, but something told him that wouldn’t work here. “I’m not ready.”
The Servant of the Light took another step forward, then faltered and stopped. It cocked its head, pointed ears twitching as though listening for something. The creature began to become… fuzzy.
No, the whole world became fuzzy. Blurred. Like it had when he had been… dying.
“I guess you were right, Calder of Halanor. It is not yet your time. Perhaps the System was right in its decision. Train well, human. If you do, maybe one day we will meet as equals.”
Chapter 20
Calder sat bolt upright in his bed.
The Servant of the Light’s words rang inside his head, maybe one day we will meet as equals. His body had broken out in a cold sweat. It took a moment for the room to come into focus. For him to remember where he was.
His party stood around him, worried looks on their faces.
Yesna rested a hand on his shoulder. He slapped it right off, ripping the covers off his bed and standing. He rushed to the opposite side of the room, breathing heavily, heart thudding against his chest.
Calder could see their mouths moving, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. Couldn’t think straight. Yesna, Luceen and Peter took hesitant steps toward him.
Blood ran down his neck. Dry blood. His wounds—the one on his wrist, the one on his neck—were healed. But they had been there. He saw the evidence.
He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to slow his breathing. His heart rate. He sensed that he was at full health and he no longer had any ill status effects applied to him—Halt Restoration and Toxic Arrow must have both worn off when he had…
Died.
“I’m not dead,” he whispered. “I’m alive. I’m not dead.”
It took what felt like an age for his breathing to finally steady. When it did, he could hear their voices again. Could understand them. Felt their concern.
And there was another voice. A fourth voice. One that didn’t belong to a member of his party.
Of course you’re not dead, the voice said in his mind. Why would you be dead?
Calder blinked. He knew that voice. Knew it well.
“Graham!” Calder shouted.
The ghost appeared in the middle of the room, looking exactly as he had the last time Calder had seen him, during the Battle of Berring, when the Orc Destroyer had banished him from the world.
“No need to shout. I’m right here.” Graham looked around the room, noticing they were all staring at him. “Why are you all looking at me like that?” Deep lines furrowed his brow. “Weren’t we in the middle of a battle…” His eyes went wide. “The Avatar of Darkness!”
“Is dead,” Calder said. “Over a week ago.” He couldn’t help but feel relief. Graham was back, and he seemed to remember the last thing that had happened to him. A part of him had worried the ghost would be… reset, as though he had never even met Calder before.
Graham frowned. “Over a week ago…”
Calder took a step forward. “Access my mind. I’m granting you permission.”
The ghost’s mouth fell open, as though to speak, then closed abruptly as he nodded. Graham shut his eyes. A moment later, he opened them again, understanding dawning in them. “Ah. I see a lot’s happened since I was… banished.” He stared at Calder. “You… died for me?”
“I did.”
The ghost ran a hand through his hair, looking lost for words—which was something of a rarity for Graham. “Ah, thanks,” he finally said.
“Don’t mention it.” Calder took a step toward the ghost. He no longer felt frantic and disorientated. He looked at Yesna. “Sorry for before… your hand…”
The healer shook her head. “It’s all right. I’m just glad you’re back.”
“You were gone a long time,” Luceen said. “It almost seemed as though…”
“You wouldn’t return.” Peter’s voice was flat. “I’m glad you did.”
“You’re glad he did?” Graham scratched his head, flashed a smile. “Aren’t you the one who killed him?”
Peter’s head fell, his shoulders sagging. “I didn’t mean for it to stick.”
“It very almost did.” Calder forced a chuckle, though the last thing he felt was amusement. His body was fully healed, his heartrate and breathing back to normal, but the memory of where he had been—in that vast, white space called the Reincarnation Chamber, speaking to the Servant of the Light—was stuck in his mind.
He faced the ghost, which had just accessed his mind. “Did you see it?”
Graham blinked. “See what?”
“Where I went after you died?”
“What do you mean? You didn’t go anywhere. You were… dead. It’s just… blank.”
“Calder, what are you talking about?” Yesna asked.
“Is that poisoned arrow of yours having a delirious affect?” Luceen whispered to Peter. “Or maybe the root he was chewing on?”
“I’m not delirious,” Calder said. Though Luceen’s words made him wonder for a split second, he dismissed it just as fast. What I saw was real. He could still feel a remnant of power from the being he had encountered, as though it lingered on his very soul.
Maybe it did.
Yesna raised her hands. “All right.” She motioned toward the bed. “Why don’t you sit down, explain what you saw?”
Calder’s mouth felt exceedingly dry. He cleared his throat. “I think… I think I need a drink.”
“Understandable, considering what you’ve been through.” Luceen headed to the door. “I’ll fetch you one.”
Calder collapsed back onto his bed, running what happened through his mind. As real as he knew it had been, it did seem rather… farfetched. A part of him contemplated not telling the others about it at all. Luceen had already whispered about him being delirious.
