Rebel Star: A LitRPG Post-Apocalyptic Space Opera (System Apocalypse Book 8)

by Tao Wong

  And then we’re there, in a surprisingly silent area. Our headlong rush comes to a full stop in a large, partly illuminated, featureless security corridor. Harry’s somewhere around, but because I’m in the middle of the fight and he’s not part of our official combat party, his Skills are in full effect, minimizing his presence. I have to forcibly remember he’s around, otherwise he fades into the background. As I run, I borrow Ali’s eyesight for a second, the Spirit hovering near the ceiling to provide a better sightline over the heads of our stalled attack at the station core.

  It’s a man. A single, very recognizable, horned man dressed in what I would call medieval emerald scalemail that glints and glistens with his every breath. He stands at the entrance to the station core, his oversized hammer propped up in front of him, blocking the way into the administrative center. The Dragon Fear Aura he exudes is enough to freeze everyone, reaching deep within the brain to the lizard or other small scuttly creature we came from, reminding us that there are things—very big, very bad things—out there. And if we’re real small and real quiet, it might just miss us.

  The in-drawn breath and the thready exhalation reminds me that Mikito is working her way through the fear, pushing past it in her own way, using Skills and resistances to mental affects. I’m not sure how, I never asked, but I trust her to have my back when it counts. As for me, the Aura bounces right off my Class resistances, offering no more pressure than a deep water dive. Something I’ve, unfortunately, had too much experience with.

  “Paladin.” Oi’s voice in my ear, his tone saying it all. I swear I almost hear a pleading note in it, but it might be my imagination.

  Walking forward, I push past the still and silent forms of Oi’s people and the Rebel Captain himself. They’re all here, ready to take over and charge in, if they have a chance. Some of Oi’s people have broken through the Aura, but none of them dare move. And so it’s the simplest thing to walk forward and put myself before the Dragon Lord. It’s the simplest thing in the Galaxy to stand before him and offer a nod.

  Bolo Dumas Windward South; Scourge of the Thirty Ninth Ward, The Locus of Destruction, Monster Exterminator (Drake, Uzaks, Goblins), more… (Dragon Lord Level 38) (M)

  HP: 7190/7190

  MP: 4730/4730

  Conditions: Dragon Fear Aura, Blessings of the Wind, Earth and Fire, Improved Constitution, Orichalum Skin, Sheathed Organs, Mana Drip, Greater Regeneration

  “You’re with them?” Bolo’s voice is deep, posh sounding, and clipped. It buzzes down in the deep baritone range with a little more reverb than a human’s. Might be the way his horns work with his voice box.

  “I got paid.” Unspoken are the words “same as you,” but they hang in the air anyway.

  “I am repaying a favor.” The nine-foot-tall, flame-eyed, overly muscled, horned Dragon Lord says this as if it is sufficient explanation to everything. Including the fact that he isn’t about to move. Which, I guess, it is.

  “Ah. Pity,” I say, cracking my neck. “Shall we?”

  Bolo offers me a nod in return as he picks up his hammer. We stand there, gauging one another in silence. I feel Mikito moving up behind and to the side of me, while the rest of Oi’s team collectively hold their breath. I don’t know who blinks first, who makes the first move, but Bolo and I explode into action. I’m faster than him, with Haste on, but that’s only until he engages that Charge ability of his. Then the son of a bitch almost teleports in front of me, hitting me with the hilt of his hammer and putting my momentum to a complete stop. Next, he helps me regain my momentum by spinning in place—and smashing aside a few unlucky bastards who’ve rushed up to help—and bringing the end of his hammer into my chest.

  I go flying backward, my Soul Shield completely destroyed by that single attack. Those unlucky enough to not get out of the way of my flying body are bowled over. My body punches through metal wall after metal wall, refusing to stop as the momentum continues. Even as I try to slow myself down, get my feet under me, I can see the Dragon Lord charging after me, leaving his post to finish me off. He’s not willing to give me the time or space to recover.

  Silly old Lord.

  Chest heaving with pain, I narrow my eyes as the grenades I left strewn along my pathway explode, one after the other. They do little more than annoy the Master Classer, coating him with flame, sticky webs, and monomolecular wires, shaving off tenths of his health. In reply, Bolo swings his giant hammer overhead. It’s so large, it tears up the ceiling and opens massive rents in the floor as it comes crashing down. This time, I’m ready. I dodge sideways but find myself with an unforeseen problem.

  The goddamn weapon is so big that any attempt at dodging it puts me out of position to attack the Dragon Lord. I can’t hit him with a normal melee attack, not without risking getting hammered. To buy some time, I jump backward and toss a couple more grenades, only to watch shrapnel and flames lick at the Dragon Lord’s impassive defenses. Anything less than a direct attack is nothing more than an annoyance, as we figured. A useful and distractingly large explosive annoyance, but an annoyance.

  13 Damage Done

  “I know, Ali.”

  Giving up on that attack for now, I keep retreating and slashing with my sword, leaving conjured blades moving in the air behind me. It slows the Dragon Lord as he navigates around the weapons or bats them aside, allowing me to call Blade Strikes to harry him further. The damage results from those attacks are marginally better than my grenades—in the hundreds when they do hit. Unfortunately, our battlefield regeneration rates are so high that if I can’t put out at least five hundred points of damage a minute, it’s useless.

  “Stop running!” the Dragon Lord snarls, frustration on his face.

  I’ve dropped Haste, but with the obstacles in place and his big weapon, dodging his attacks and keeping just ahead of him is mostly viable. When he does catch up and swings, I don’t bother setting my feet, instead blocking with my sword and letting the momentum of the attack punch me through the ground at an angle. The strain on my arms and shoulders is not inconsequential. As Ali helpfully showcases.

  -179 HP

  When I pop back up to my feet and set myself, I notice that the Dragon Lord hasn’t bothered to chase me. The next second, he spins about to return to his post. Damn. So he’s not dumb enough to be pulled away from his post for too long. Didn’t think he would be, but you never know.

  “They’re still trying to get through the doors. It’s reinforced with a Skill,” Ali sends.

  My feet bunch as I throw myself upward, crossing the distance to return to where I started. I take off after Bolo, his dot and another familiar one stalled in a corridor ahead. By the time I turn the corner, the entire corridor is wrecked and the pair are down two floors. Beneath my feet, in the giant hole in the flooring, Mikito and the Dragon Lord duel. The Samurai is focused mostly on defense and—literally—cutting down his hammer, but a slight limp and distortion in her ghostly armor shows the damage that Bolo has managed to cause.

  I let gravity take me to the fight as I throw out Blade Strikes. Two-thirds of them hit before the Dragon Lord notices and dodges. Each Blade Strike digs into his armor and skin, leaving lines of blood. Spinning away from the attacks, Bolo raises his weapon and hammers me into the ceiling. My reapplied Soul Shield shatters as I reach out to the surroundings to stabilize the walls, using both my Elemental Affinity and the System’s attributes.

  His attack costs him though, as Mikito manages to take off another chunk of the hammer. The clashes between the weapons send shockwaves through the surroundings. Even as I drop to the floor, I can see the hammer regrowing its broken portions. I take the time to reapply my Soul Shield and cast Freezing Blade before I run forward, joining the battle between the pair.

  Caught between the two of us, the Dragon Lord is pinned in place. It’s only a few seconds, a half dozen clashes with my Freezing Blade, before he gets the rhythm of our attacks. His return attack starts with a shoulder-charge at Mikito, smashing the Samurai th
rough corridor walls. The attack sends a wave of flame and electricity erupting from the impact points, briefly blinding us. By the time I reach Bolo, the Dragon Lord has spun around and charged up his hammer, which he brings directly down at me even as the souped-up attack melts the ceiling. I get my sword up in time, reinforcing the flat of the blade with my other hand, but it’s not enough.

  The impact of the attack breaks my sword at the points of leverage, blowing out my elbows and shoulders as they fail to contain the kinetic energy of the swing. It goes further as elemental energy wraps around my body, pushing the remnants of my weapon into me, crushing my helmet and my chest as my Soul Shield pops like a soap bubble. By the time my body’s inertia disappears, I’ve got broken bones, internal bleeding, and a shattered soul blade. My only saving grace is the fact I’ve been blown down a couple more levels.

  -789 Damage

  A wave of healing energy pops my shoulders back in place as the emergency healing vials in my suit kick in, injecting me with their healing potions. Renewed health flushes through my body, allowing me to use my arms again even as I dismiss my helmet into my inventory. I briefly consider using the Abyssal Chains to slow Bolo, but I know it would be a futile gesture. He has more than enough strength to shatter the chains. At best, I’d gain a fraction of a second. Rather than choose that, I reconjure my blade and eye the corridor before hopping away from the fast-arriving Dragon Lord.

  Army of One creates multiple blades which project their modified, upgraded Blade Strikes—beams of force and Mana that cut through steel and flesh with abandon. When I conjure the attack, Bolo’s eyes widen and he hunkers down behind his hammer, his body glowing as the Dragon Lord activates his own defensive spells. He tanks the attack head-on, feet dug into the floor to stabilize his position. As beams of energy given form strike the hammer, it comes apart in pieces. At first, at the edges where Mikito’s weapon tore it apart. Then the center glows, cracks appearing as the energy bleeds through. It shatters, shrapnel disappearing under the onslaught of the attack.

  Unlike my sword, Bolo’s weapon can only replace itself by regeneration. As most of it is shattered, the weapon will take a while to regrow. It’s part one of our plan to deal with the son of a bitch and straight out of the playbook to deal with Dragon Lords.

  I spit a mouthful of blood and a loose tooth, feeling my ribs grate as they put themselves back into position. My eyes narrow at the smoking hole in the floor, warning klaxons going off as sparks from broken electrical conduits and glowing steel shroud us. If not for the entire station having an auto-regenerating feature and being System-built and reinforced, we’d have destroyed it already. Even then, the amount of damage we’ve done is significant. Our fight has taken us down multiple levels; the hole I’ve created has dropped Bolo onto the outer walls. If not for the fact that the outer walls of the station are reinforced, even the incidental damage from Army of One would have punched through.

  The Dragon Lord reappears at the edge of the hole with a hop, the shattered remnants of his hammer in hand. The damn giant grins at me. My most damaging attack, and he’s barely down a third of his health. Ali was not joking when he mentioned the effectiveness of Bolo’s numerous defensive Skills.

  An aura of green and red rises from Bolo’s body, swirling in hypnotic patterns as they cloak his form. Bolo’s subsequent charge almost catches me unaware, the Dragon Lord covering the ground between us in the time it takes me to activate a Skill. As he arrives, Mikito drops down, ready to trade places, but it’s too late.

  Once more, he triggers his Skills. Dragon Hammer on his own body, to give him strength and increased damage. Call of Fire, to add additional elemental damage. Triple Strike combined with Infernal Blow means that the punches blur, slamming me around like a hockey puck on a too-small rink. Even with my ability to conjure additional blades, I cannot stop the onslaught. Bolo slips around each of the blades, taking a few cuts here and there to keep striking me. He’s hitting me so fast I don’t even have time to move before he smashes directly into the deck, punching me through the last floor to hit the outer walls of the station.

  Out here, the gravity controls are less powerful, and I can feel the immediate shift. I bounce a little more than normal before I collapse against the cold, uncaring metal. Barely healed body parts are shattered, my right hip a complete mess while the left side of my body is so much mush. I’m barely holding on, even as the layered regeneration buffs stitch me together. The only reasons I’m still conscious are Class-given pain resistances and my innate stubbornness. Pushing aside the pain, I start the next Skill, knowing it takes a little time to activate, and hope it happens in time.

  Surprise shows on Bolo’s face as he realizes I’m still alive. The Dragon Lord jumps down, broken hammer appearing in his hand as it fills with power, a nub of the hammer already regrown. Sanctuary, my ultimate defensive Skill, activates and places a dome of power around me that blocks the attack, letting the hammer bounce off it.

  Bolo strikes the Sanctuary once more, eyeballing the defense before he turns to leave. The Dragon Lord knows better than to try to break through an invulnerability Skill.

  “Clear,” Mikito’s voice sounds in my ear.

  I offer Bolo’s back a bloody grin. “Don’t leave yet.”

  Bolo hesitates and looks over his shoulder. He’s wary about another attack, another trick. Caution against a Master Classer. Smart.

  A mental command is all it takes for Abyssal Chains to activate, one after the other, to hold the Dragon Lord still for a brief moment. It serves more as a distraction than an actual impediment. At the same time, I’ve already activated my other attack.

  Beacon of the Angels doesn’t do as much damage to an individual as my Army of One Skill. It’s an area effect Skill, meant to control the battlefield and attack multiple targets. It deals damage to everything within its scope—people, equipment, structures. As I call the attack down on myself and the Dragon Lord, it splashes uselessly against my own Sanctuary, burning the Master Classer and melting the flooring we’re standing on. I draw on my Mana Bracelet, draining it as fast as I can as I reactivate the Skill, targeting the same area. Bolo is using his own defensive Skills, a hand raised upward to form a shield while facing the damage head-on, waiting for the chains to shatter. It’s a bad habit of his—trusting in his health, in his Skills, and tanking damage before retaliating. An eye for an eye, a punch for a hammer blow. Once he is hurt, he forgets for a moment his objective to retaliate.

  Which is why we planned this entire beatdown.

  Everything burns. And then it doesn’t.

  As my second Beacon ends, the outer walls finally give way. The explosive decompression from the station’s outer walls snatches my sphere of safety and Bolo, throwing the pair of us into space. We end up spinning around and around in the middle of nowhere, far from the station exit I created.

  “Do you think this will stop me?” Bolo says.

  Of course, I can’t hear him, but lipreading still works. Even without protective equipment, the Knight doesn’t seem to be taking damage from the hostile environment. A slight click of Bolo’s heels and mini-thrusters on his boots activate.

  I ignore his antics while I slap on a new helmet and fill my lungs with oxygen, then I switch out my damaged armor for a simple all-purpose EVA jumpsuit. The heaters in the suit are a welcome addition, Sanctuary falling soon after and exposing me, prepped and ready, to the cold of space. By then, Bolo is nearly at the open rent in the station.

  I eyeball his momentum, then pop open a Portal right in front of him. Being out of the station and no longer Dimension Locked, the Portal’s mouth widens without a hitch. Inertia in space is a bitch. Bolo has no time to stop as he is taken into the Portal and deposited far outside the entire station complex.

  The giggle that resounds in my ear is unusual and all too girly for its originator. The Samurai steps into sight at the exit, her naginata propped up on her shoulder as she tosses me a line. If Bolo had managed to dodge my Porta
l, Mikito’s job was to push him back into it.

  “I’ll be damned. It worked,” Harry says, shaking his head.

  I turn my head from side to side, curious if I can spot the reporter and not finding him. Damn Skill.

  “Ye of little faith.” I catch the line Mikito throws and haul myself in. “Think he’s going to be pissed?”

  “Probably,” Mikito says.

  I can’t help but chuckle, thinking of Bolo and the very, very long journey he has. Even if Bolo has the equivalent of a Portal ability, he won’t be able to teleport into the station itself. Once he’s outside, all I need to do is open a Portal in front of every entrance he tries to use, teleporting him right back out. So long as they keep the dimensions locked, he isn’t getting back in any time soon. And if they release the dimensional locks, the attackers will be able to port right into the main station room.

  All in all, we’ve won our confrontation with Bolo. And didn’t have to kill him either.

  A win-win for everyone.

  Chapter 8

  By the time I see the fist, it’s too late for me to dodge. The punch slams me into the bulkhead, which compresses behind me, pinning me in place. The next half dozen punches crack ribs, burst internal organs, and make me cough up blood. A Soul Shield, thrown up automatically, shatters in a hail of strikes but gives me enough time to kick my opponent back.

  I slump to the floor, glaring at Bolo, who is panting steps away from me, his body cloaked in flames. Now that he’s been pushed back, the Dragon Lord makes no move to continue his attack. Mikito and Ali surround Bolo, ready to continue the fight but are held up by my hand.

  “I see you’re back,” I say.