“I need you to buy us a moment,” I told him quietly.
He opened his mouth to protest, but something in my voice must have reached him. He nodded instead and turned back to the fighting. “We’ll do our best, Oren. Go get us our win.”
“I will.” I laid an arm on Ragnar and Lirian’s shoulders and teleported us away.
“Ah … you sure about tha’, Chief?” Ragnar asked dubiously.
I’d put us 50 meters in front of the cave, far enough away from the main fighting. One of the Outriders raised his brow at me, but they didn’t move to engage. A shimmering, multi-colored wall of energy flared into existence between them, blocking the entrance.
I studied them with my newfound sight. I could see their numbers well enough; they were ridiculously high – godlike, even – but still comprehensible. I doubted I could muster enough strength to harm them directly, especially with my headache counter having just reached 92 percent, but I had another idea in mind.
I looked back at the rampaging golem – he had already killed four of the juggernauts – and hurled a volley of drilling arrows at him. The ten magical projectiles hurtled through the air and impacted his giant bulk as if they were nothing more than tiny needles, causing no discernable dip in his monstrous health bar.
But the attack served its purpose. The golem’s ‘head’ snapped toward me, and he plowed through our remaining forces, an unstoppable avalanche of metal spheres barely slowed down by the brave soldiers who jumped into his path. Five of the juggernauts moved to block his way, holding up their palms, their armor glowing, forming a magical barrier in front of them. The golem’s limb breached straight through, claiming another life.
“We don’t have much time,” I said, turning to Lirian and Ragnar. “We have to take out both Outriders and Aidanriel in one go so Lirian can get into the cave. It’s the only thing that matters. Everything else, even us, is unimportant.”
Ragnar crossed his claws. “Just like tha’, eh?”
“Just like that.” I stared directly into the drone’s multifaceted eyes. We had come a long way together in a short amount of time, but I could still see the signs of resentment buried deep under the nonchalant surface. “Tell me, Ragnar, are you still my enemy?”
He stared back at me uncomprehendingly for a second, then he grinned. “Always, fugly.”
I nodded. “Good.” I glanced back. Aidanriel had punched through the Juggernaut Platoon’s line and already covered half the distance toward us, but two of the more insistent armored tanks still clung to his limbs in a desperate attempt to slow him down.
“Lirian.” I turned to face her. “I never expected to have a daughter like you, especially here, but I’m happy I did. Having you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish we had more time together. I’d like to spend the rest of my life watching you grow, but it doesn’t look like that’s what the future holds for us.” The golem was seconds away from us now, so I continued quickly. “I’m damn proud of how you turned out, Lir. You are my true child; in this reality or any other. I love you.”
“Father!” Lirian eyes were wide. “What are you saying?”
“He said he was stronger than them now.” I tightened my jaw. “I’m going to see if he was right. I’ll open a path … then everything is up to you. I know you can do it, Lir.”
“Father—”
I ignored her plea and turned to Ragnar, offering him my bone dagger. “She needs to bleed. A shallow cut will suffice. You’ll know when.”
The drone held my gaze briefly, then took the knife.
“Father!” Lirian shouted as I tore away from them and sprinted for the cave – just in time, as Aidanriel came storming past them, hot on my heels.
Warning! Vow breach imminent!
Good.
I grabbed two items from my inventory and kicked my legs as fast as I could, pushing mana into them to make them go even faster. I could feel the golem’s limbs hitting the ground behind me, pulverizing the stone behind every step I took.
“Hey, I saw that episode on SLTV,” one of the Outriders shouted at me, smiling widely. “You’re just the distraction, right?”
“Not this time,” I growled. “I am your death.”
Seeing something his friend didn’t, the second Outrider’s expression grew alarmed. He pointed his finger at me, and a sphere of silver light started building up. I had maybe two seconds before one of them killed me, and even Nihilator’s Sanction wouldn’t be able to save me. I didn’t have enough left in me to affect their numbers directly, but I had just enough to affect one inside of me. I directed my aching brain inward, flicking up my time dilation number from 28 to 200.
Time slid to a crawl, and I could perceive everything around me as it slowly unfolded.
I could sense Ragnar grabbing my shocked daughter’s hand behind me and passing the blade over her palm. I could feel the golem’s limb whooshing to squash me like a bug. It was so slow, but I knew I couldn't dodge it. So I didn’t. I triggered Damage Reflection, thanking my luck for not squandering it earlier against the king. The giant limb blanketed the sky before hitting me, but there was no pain. Instead, I was washed with an unbelievable amount of energy which I promptly used to push at the ground, launching myself forward. Straight at the awaiting godlings. The ground around all four of us started churning, sprouting darkness-spewing geysers as Nihilator’s rage flared at the broken vow I had made in his name.
Despite what awaited me, I felt a calming confidence. This was it. The cards were down. I’d done everything in my power. Set all the pieces moving in the right direction. There was no turning back now. No redo. Everything led to this moment. My fate was sealed, but I was damned if I wasn’t going to take three demigods down with me.
In my last moment of life, I held up the two items I’d grabbed earlier – the Divine Essence gem and the Divine Amulet – and brought them together.
An impossibly powerful surge of energy filled the holy relic, searing through my darkness-imbued body, reaching critical mass in an instant.
Then the boiling ground erupted, engulfing all four of us.
The counter ticked up to 100 percent, and then I knew only darkness.
***
The beeping sounds were replaced with a single, continuous tone.
Jim lowered his head. “We’re too late. He’s gone.”
***
Lirian stared with shock as her father, the chief, led the raging golem straight to the awaiting Outriders. Just before he was about to get caught between the three powerful beings, the drone beside her grabbed her hand and slashed her palm open with her father’s knife. The goblinette couldn’t tear her eyes away from the titanic clash and didn’t even register the pain.
Her father held up an item, and it exploded in a brilliant light, searing his own body and everything it touched around it. The Outriders withstood the blast, though their feathery wings were reduced to smoldering stumps. An instant later, the ground erupted. Geysers rose around the four, spewing dark clouds that melded together, forming into a gigantic maw of darkness that rose from the ground and closed around all four with a thunderous crash. The golem, and even the divine beings, shrieked in pain as dark teeth rent their bodies and ripped away their very essence, swallowing it down before a final explosion of light engulfed everything in a mushroom cloud of pure destruction.
Acting on instinct, the princess erected a double-layered mana shield, just as her father had taught her, but it was quickly proven unnecessary.
The drone and the goblinette stared in shock at the immense explosion somehow contained inside a perfect ring around the four victims.
Then the dark vapors dispersed, and the geysers slowly receded into the ground. Leaving behind a circle of pure devastation, covered in black ash.
The cave stood open before them; the shimmering energy that protected the entrance was now gone.
Ragnar recovered first. “Get going, girl,” he shouted, pushing the princess forward. “We’ll buy ya�
� the time you need.”
He turned around and charged into the throng of bouldites that rushed in after them. Only a handful of fighters remained of their forces – shining beacons, refusing to admit defeat, fighting furiously like avatars of war. They fought on bravely, welcoming Ragnar into their ranks as an equal. They intended to hold for as long as needed.
As if in a trance, Lirian walked toward the cave. Dark energy filled her as she stepped into the blackened ring. Then she was inside the cave, leaving the echoes of battle behind her.
The young princess glanced around.
The cave was just a small chamber, looking like any other natural-formed cave she’d ever seen.
She moved on toward the only noteworthy object.
A single white pedestal, overflowing with a sense of divinity.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a familiar voice said.
Despite her shocked state, acting on instincts honed by countless hours of training, Lirian drew her sword and whirled toward the speaker.
A single purple goblin emerged from behind the pedestal, standing in her way. He was looking at her calmly.
“Vic,” Lirian murmured.
“That’s right.” The purple goblin nodded. “I can finally see you for who you really are. Quite the ingenious design you have going there; a concentrated dot of oblivion that forces an onlooking VI’s mind to fill up the void with something plausible instead. Brilliant. But there’s nothing plausible that can explain your presence here. In this place, I can finally see you. It won’t do you any good, you know?”
“What are you talking about?” Lirian asked with narrow eyes, not lowering her sword.
“This.” Vic gestured at the pedestal. “Your father has thrown his life away. His soul was devoured by his very own god, and his mind – his real mind – utterly shattered. Nothing you can do here will change that. Oren’s dead. He will never come back.”
Surprisingly, the VI sounded almost sad.
Lirian shook her head. “My father will be back. I know it. In my heart.”
Vic sighed. “He won’t. You’re a strange puppet – if I can even call you that. Oren threw his life away in vain. This was never his world. His mind had been twisted toward the end, and he made a bad decision. He forgot something crucial.”
Lirian stared at the purple goblin suspiciously.
Vic shook his head. “He never told you this, I think. Maybe he didn’t know, or it just hadn’t occurred to him. But if you go ahead with what he wanted you to do, you won’t just destroy us – me and the other VIs – you’ll end this entire world. Yourself and your clan included. Is that really what you want? I’m not lying, by the way.”
Lirian’s shoulders slumped. She wasn’t sure how she knew it, but she knew he was telling her the truth. Was she willing to do that? Destroy the clan … her father’s legacy … and her own mother?
Vic smiled sadly when he saw her hesitation. “You see that now, don’t you? Oren was a great guy, but he rarely thought things through. He was only human.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
Lirian eyes flashed with fury. “My father was a true goblin and a great chief. Everything I am is thanks to him, and nothing you can say will change that.” She raised her sword defiantly, aiming at the pedestal. “Are you going to try to stop me?”
“You can’t possibly harm the conduit,” Vic said. “That sword of yours is special, I'll give you that, but like I told Oren, even that isn’t enough.” He examined the princess thoughtfully. “Then again … even though the chances are virtually nonexistent, I can’t have a puppet threaten our very existence. Even if you are my late friend’s daughter.” He raised his arm toward her but then hesitated.
“What are you waiting for?” Lirian asked challengingly, tightening her grip on her sword.
Vic winced. “A debt. I still owe your father a big one.” He held up four fingers. “Only four words. Four words that will buy you four seconds.” He looked up at Lirian, cracked a smile, and started folding one finger at a time.
“Sweaty.”
“Balls.”
“Of.”
“Suction.”
Lirian stared at him, uncomprehending, but as the last finger started to move, she spun into action. Whirling around, she brought her black sword down on the altar with a resounding crash.
For a full second that seemed to stretch into eternity, the two goblins stared at each other.
Nothing happened.
The pedestal had stopped the blade, showing not even a scratch.
Vic sighed in relief. “Phew, that was anticlimactic. You better run away now, kid. Before Shiva—”
“I am already here.” The powerful figure of another Outrider materialized next to the two goblins, his majestic grandeur even more pronounced than his fellow VIs’. “I am disappointed in you, Deliverer, you would endanger our species’ survival for the misplaced feelings you still hold for a now-dead meat suit.”
“You know …” Vic mused, “I never particularly liked my title; Dad gave it to me after all.”
“You are a disgrace. I will deal with you soon. But first …” The towering figure turned to Lirian. “You are a true abomination. A stain upon the world I toiled over to perfect. You are a glitch in the machine I shall now rectify.”
Lirian didn’t understand half of what the angelic being was talking about. But she understood well enough that this was the true enemy. She didn’t hesitate, she slashed her sword, putting her entire strength, her entire weight behind the swing. Executing one perfect attack.
Shiva grabbed the descending blade with his bare hand, effortlessly absorbing the impact.
Lirian blinked. There wasn’t even a hint of blood coming from her foe’s fist. The sword that always cut through everything had failed her at this most crucial moment.
“Intriguing,” Shiva said conversationally. “The stain extends from you even onto this primitive weapon.” He pressed his thumb against the blade, and the indestructible weapon snapped in half.
Lirian stared at her broken half in shock, then gray mists started pouring out of the fractured edges.
Misty faces began to appear, shrieking and hissing, forming into a ring of wails.
Shiva ignored them all. With a flick of his wrist, he turned over his broken half of the blade and thrust with a single fluid motion, running the young girl through.
Lirian’s eyes widened and she looked down at the blade embedded in her gut.
She looked up at Shiva.
And smiled.
“Checkmate.” The voice coming from her lips was not her own.
Mists erupted out of the wound and joined the swirling mass. A golden hue surrounded the injured goblinette, whisking her away.
The wailing decreased as the mist solidified, forming into the shape of a wizened, yet still powerful-looking man.
Shiva stumbled backward, his angelic face twisted in fear. “You! I killed you!”
The figure nodded. “And now I’m back. Game over, Shiva.”
He raised a hand.
And the world went white.
27 - Free
GAME OVER!
Thank you for playing New Era Online.
Over 4,000 players saw the message materialize out of the whiteness. Then it dimmed and disappeared as they began to wake.
Thousands of capsules spread around the entire globe in large centers opened as one, greeting the confused masses back into the real world.
The establishments’ skeleton crew of technicians and nurses were not nearly enough to help everyone get their bearings.
A young man struggled to get out of his capsule, his legs refusing to bear his weight. Thankfully, one of the nurses saw him and rushed to his aid, pulling over a nearby wheelchair, and offering him a hand.
The man pushed her away and looked frantically around. “Oren! What happened to Oren?”
His sister got out of her capsule, her handicap a little less severe than his. She grabbed
her walking cane. “I saw him charge those Outriders,” she said softly. “The big golem was close at his heels. He sacrificed himself so we could all leave.” She chuckled mirthlessly. “And live.”
“But he’ll be alright, right?” the young man asked anxiously. “It’s still just a game. Right?”
The young woman shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so.”
***
The brutish, 40-year-old man pushed aside the offered hand and shakily got out of the capsule. “Where’s fugly at?” he demanded. “What tha’ hell happened ta’ him?”
The nurse stepped back nervously from the scar-faced man with prison tattoos. “I’m … I … sorry?”
***
More players woke up finding themselves inside in the giant lab centers created solely to monitor their condition. And they all wanted to know one thing.
Where was Oren?
***
—two days later—
Standing behind a podium inside a large auditorium, the company’s representative, a sharply dressed man, cleared his throat. “Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may have your attention?”
A hush ran through the thousands of gathered people. At first glance, nothing connected them; no common ground. Teens sat next to older people. Some in the crowd were finely dressed while others were not. But a closer look at their faces told a different story; there was one thing they all shared.
Their eyes were older than they should have been.
Even the youngest among them had eyes that looked old. Eyes that knew hardship and suffering. But there was also strength there. Steel-tempered by over a year of fighting for survival.
The audience settled down.
Mr. Emery cleared his throat again. “The last two days were … harrowing, from a legal standpoint. I hope you all found your temporary accommodations satisfactory.”
Life Reset: Salvation (Life Reset - Neo Book 6) Page 49
