New technique learned: Lightning Dash
Lightning Dash
Increases your attack and movement speed based on your persuasion. The effect ends after six strikes or if you receive damage.
Cost: 100 AP
New technique learned: Dance with the Music
Dance with the Music
Increases AP accumulation while under the effect of a Bard song. Amount gained is based on your persuasion.
Cost: 100 AP
Dance with the Music seems useless without a Bard with me. But Lightning Dash? Now that shall give me quite the edge in hostile situations. Now to deal with this infernal Silver Dagger.
The Silver Dagger carried a 20 strength requirement. Despite hitting level 5, Xanthe only had 17 strength, meaning the weapon was still too heavy for her to brandish, just not as bad as when she had first acquired it.
I need to increase my strength by three, then I can use it to dual-wield.
Xanthe left her idling spot and ventured into Holt’s marketplace. If the rumors were true, afflicted merchants sold afflicted wares, pulled from the magical screens they had. She found one such merchant and knew the affliction tainted him because of the label above his head. He was a level 8 accessory merchant. Using the screen provided, Xanthe scrolled through the items he had for sale, wincing at the requirements she did not meet, smiling at the one she did.
Red Choker: [Accessory]
Rank: C
Magic Defense: 10
Strength +1 Charisma +1
Asteriarite Slot: [EMPTY]
Asteriarite Slot: [EMPTY]
Requires: 47 Charisma
And my charisma is . . .
Charisma: 49
She grinned. Perfect.
It cost her 700 of the 1000 denars she plundered from the dead bandit leader, and with the purchase in hand, she filled the two empty asteriarite slots with the two remaining red gems she had.
Asteriarite Slot: [Asteriarite: Strength +1]
Asteriarite Slot: [Asteriarite: Strength +1]
After that, she put the choker around her neck and instantly felt her arms and hands become stronger. Strong enough that she pulled the Silver Dagger from her inventory with one hand, spun it to perform an elegant knife twirl, then clenched it along with the Bronze Scimitar. Both weapons weighed almost nothing in her thin hands.
And the Silver Dagger? The dagger blade’s design and the hilt were so gorgeous and lightweight that Xanthe used it like a hairpin to tie her long hair back.
Night had taken its time to darken the desert city of Holt. With two suns blazing in the sky, one had to wait for the largest sun to set, then a few hours afterward for the smaller one to do the same. According to the many conversations Xanthe overheard in the Inn’s tavern, nights during this time of the year on Faeheim didn’t last very long. The first sun that had set would rise in a few brief hours, then later, the second sun.
That left her with limited time to act. With the city dark, most Inn patrons in their rented rooms, and the tavern empty, Xanthe ventured outside and walked to the horse and carriage she rode into the city, hoping Averyl was still inside and alive. It was hot, and her first day on the job as an exotic belly dancer left her little time to check up on her captured fae noblewoman. Xanthe’s new “silver hairpin” made a lot of the other dancer girls jealous.
She found Averyl in the carriage, conscious and flustered. Xanthe kneeled to the tied-up fae, smiling. “Let us get you someplace better, shall we?”
Xanthe picked up Averyl, slinging her over her shoulder. Averyl weighed less than she thought. Or was that Xanthe’s newly gained strength at work? Either way, it was relatively easy to haul Averyl into the Inn, through the tavern, up a flight of wooden stairs to the second level, down the hall, and into Xanthe’s room. She tossed Averyl on one bed in the suite, then turned around to shut and lock the door. Xanthe kept Averyl’s wings and limbs bound.
“Welcome to your new prison, Averyl,” Xanthe said, stepping to the bed. “You can go free when you talk.”
Averyl sat up, placing her tied wrists on her lap. “I have nothing more to say.”
“You do.” Xanthe folded her arms across her black lace outfit. “And you will talk.”
Averyl angled her blushing face away. Later, Xanthe offered Averyl a bowl of berries and a drink of fresh water from the well outside.
“Now, now, eat and drink,” Xanthe said and sat on the opposite bed with a devious grin. “I cannot have you dying on me.”
Watching Averyl hold a cup and lift it to her lips with her wrists bound was something to look at. Watching Averyl consume the bowl of berries was better. The fae and the other races had enslaved shadow angels for years. It was about time a shadow angel made a fae suffer like they had.
Averyl continued eating the berries, her delicate fingers holding each fruit carefully as she brought them to her mouth. Averyl chewed with her mouth closed, then asked for a napkin to wipe her lips clean of the purple juices; when she did not get that, Averyl used the bed’s blankets as one.
“Such elegance,” Xanthe said, and stood ahead of her. “Such . . . beauty—”
Averyl dropped one berry.
Xanthe caught it with her left hand and placed it back into Averyl’s quivering hands. She looked up to make eye contact with her. Averyl’s face had flushed, and her breathing became shallow. She also never resumed eating, just sat there gazing into Xanthe’s eyes. She hypnotized Averyl and did not need to smell Averyl’s intoxicating fae sex pheromones to know that. So Xanthe took advantage and glanced at Averyl’s dress, then ran a single index finger down the fae’s thin neck, past her collar, and past the intricate necklace, inching between her breasts. Averyl moaned.
“Your heart beats fast,” Xanthe said and pulled her exploring finger away. “Are you going to have a heart attack?”
Averyl gasped and took several deep breaths. “If you . . . keep saying stuff like that . . . then . . .”
A pause.
“Then what?” Xanthe made a half-smile.
“Then, yes, I shall. Like now. Stop looking at me.”
She inched closer, destroying Averyl’s personal space, angling her lips tight to hers. Xanthe stopped to say, “You look lovely.”
Averyl gasped again as her shoulders turned red like her face. Xanthe’s grin turned into an evil smile. Xanthe was breaking down Averyl’s walls. Eventually, the young fae in her bed would speak and unveil why she desired to leave the planet, right as a magical affliction had spread and changed everyone and everything it touched.
Averyl wanted to escape before something happened.
Chapter Eighteen
“Land ahoy!”
The sudden cry had woken Guy from his rest on the drifting boat. He had lost track of time spent at sea after fleeing the siege of Muruai. Days had passed, forcing Guy to eat fae food, mostly fruit salads and thick cream. They lucked out and escaped Muruai on a cargo ship that hadn’t unloaded its goods.
Luck . . . that wasn’t luck.
The White Dragon had guided them to safety by communicating with Guy via quests.
Who the fuck are you, White Dragon? Guy thought. If you’re some AI speaking to me through my astral circuits, why didn’t you help Rachael? He wondered if he’d ever see Rachael’s smiles again, hear her optimistic views of the future, listen to her stories of what happened in the hospital she worked at. I should have stayed with her . . .
The fae survivors from Muruai trotted up to the boat’s upper deck, one by one, their feet thumping on the wood below. After a yawn and a stretch, Guy followed behind, squinted his eyes when the twin suns had cast light on his face, and looked at the sight across the blue ocean that hooked everyone’s attention.
“Land at last . . .” one survivor said.
The survivors, still covered in blood and soot from the attack, watched the landmass. Guy stood with them. They had stopped singing cheers of the Paladin from the stars who saved them, and he was glad for it.
After a few hours, the boat docked at a beach city with dozens of palm trees waving in the easterly winds. This must be the continent directly north, the southern tip of it close to Faeheim’s equator. So, after getting off the boat, it didn’t surprise Guy to see that sand had extended beyond the beach. Beyond the city lay a desert.
“May Asteria bless you, Paladin,” a survivor said, patting Guy’s shoulder as they walked past.
He scratched his head. “Uh, sure.”
“Thank you, Paladin,” another survivor said. “We shall sing praise of your bravery.” They bowed. “Praise be to Asteria.”
The survivors dispersed into the beach city and its fae inhabitants, who took them in with welcoming arms. Guy remained at the exit to the docks, watching the spectacle, grimacing when he overheard the survivors talk about that Paladin who saved them and pointed a finger at him.
If Rachael were there, she’d be poking fun at him.
“Man, I just wanted to rank up and beat Ulysses,” Guy said to nobody in particular. “Shit, he’s probably finishing up by now and getting ready to return to the fleet.”
With Guy’s starship, the Blue Sun, gone, there was no way he could send a communication signal to Ulysses. With the ship destroyed, its transponder wasn’t transmitting anything, preventing Ulysses from detecting it or the razed town. And that was assuming Ulysses and Arn were still on the planet.
Guy was stuck on Faeheim and had no idea if Rachael was alive.
He had nothing but Asteria’s Sword on his back and made his way through the city with his trench coat edges rustling behind him. Everyone looked at him, their heads moving to keep up with his walking speed. He assumed the fae buzzing above did the same before they flew to their homes in the palm trees. One oddly shaped tree caught Guy’s attention, its massive branches holding multiple single-story huts. Fae packed the huts, laughing and singing as clangs of glass echoed. It was a tavern, and boy, after what Guy went through, he could use a drink.
He walked up a staircase made of wooden planks and ropes. Every sense told him that his heavy human ass would break it. Fae were naturally lighter than humans. The hut on the branch to his left had two or three fae seated at oval tables. There were so many fae talking and laughing that he couldn’t make out what was being said—they were chatting about him, he figured, if the random glances of fae looking at him were of any significance. Multiple ale glasses paused in their owners’ hands as the trench coat swordsman with his magical blade strapped to his back took a seat at the bar.
A bearded fae wearing a green tunic took notice of Guy, smiled, and wiped the bar counter ahead clean with a damp towel. “You there!” said the bartender.
Guy pointed at himself. “Me?”
“Yes.” He fetched Guy a large glass and poured a golden bubbly drink into it. “This one is on the house for your heroic deeds.” Guy looked at the brew, making a half-smile at it. “I insist. This affliction that has been going around has us wondering what good can be done with it and what sort of evil. The Autumnfall Empire showed the evil, and you, my friend, showed the good.”
Guy couldn’t argue with that. Plus, booze was precisely what he came seeking, and he got it for free.
Speaking of money. Guy held the glass with one hand, aiming it to his mouth. As he drank, he activated his currency window and viewed the denars in his inventory.
Denars: 11,00
The money appeared in his inventory each time he killed something. Imperials yielded the most denars per kill. He wondered if everyone else got that perk because if so, the economy of Faeheim was going to tank with money just appearing out of nowhere.
The ale the fae bartender gave Guy was . . . different. Cold, sweet, and made from ingredients you could only find on Faeheim. He’d ask for a keg or two to bring back to the fleet if those strange men hadn’t destroyed his ship. The fae sitting to his left and right conjured screens like Guy’s, using it to pay for their drinks. Behind, several of the tavern’s patrons used screens or had classes assigned to them.
Land-fae (Bard) | LVL: 1 | Rank: D
Land-fae (Assassin) | LVL: 3 | Rank: D
Land-fae (Cook) | LVL: 5 | Rank: D
It was spreading. Guy’s condition, as with the people of Muruai, made it to this city. And that worried him since he had first touched Asteria’s Sword on Mennaze, another planet far from this one. Was it spreading across worlds?
Back to the bartender. “How do you know about me?” Guy asked.
“The screens. They offer insight into the classes that the affliction forced some of us to become. The thing is, we have seen no one with the Paladin class. We were wondering why.”
Guy sipped his drink, wiped his lips clean with his sleeve. “Nobody else is a Paladin?”
“Paladin and Nox Knight are the two classes we have yet to see—until now. Asteria must have been keeping you back until the time was right. On that note, when you return to the stars, please tell Asteria we say thank you.”
And they know he’s a star-dweller. Shit, he could probably view my information and see that I’m a star-human. “I’m not going back anytime soon,” Guy said as he peered at his golden fizzy drink, watching his face reflecting in it.
“Ah.” The bartender looked interested. “Here to save more of us?”
He shook his head. “The empire torched my starship.” The empire and those machined flying men. Hmm, maybe that’s how they blasted my ship apart. Those men with the wrist-mounted pulse guns did it.
“Visit the town of Holt,” said the bartender. “I have met star-dwellers there in the past doing trade. And if not there, then South Town, past the Eucanous Mountains. Perhaps you will meet a star-dweller who could give you a lift back to the heavens?”
And just like that, another quest window appeared.
Visit Holt
Objective: Travel across the Eucanous Desert and enter the city of Holt.
Issued by: White Dragon
Reward: 250 Experience Points
Accept quest? Yes/No
The White Dragon was listening as the two talked, no doubt.
Guy accepted the quest, making the window vanish. “Thanks for the tip,” he said. “I’ll head there.”
“It is a long trek through the Eucanous Desert, however. Be sure to stock up on supplies before you leave. Many beasts lurk there now since the afflictions started, attacking travelers. Including the dreaded sandworm.”
“Sandworm.” Guy chuckled and finished his drink. “Right.”
“Speak with Linier. The affliction has given him the power to become a merchant, able to sell items that require no restocking.”
Finding Linier was easy enough. After leaving the tavern, Guy walked into the city’s marketplace and glanced at the various merchants barking at traveling fae. The affliction hadn’t assigned everyone a class, Linier was the only merchant who had a class. He was a graying, middle-age fae with wings too old for flight. Linier sold items to customers via a window that appeared next to him. When you wanted to buy something from him, he would push the window to you, and then you read the items he had on hand. From what Guy could see, you just selected what you needed and the screen would ask you to pay the required denars while your purchases transferred to your inventory.
Very handy.
The line to Linier’s shop shrank and Guy stepped forward, ready to browse through his wares. Linier smiled. “Ah, greetings, Paladin. Looking to cross the Eucanous Desert?”
Guy nodded. “Yeah, to the town of Holt.”
“Then you will need my wares. Please, have a look.”
Linier forged a window and pushed it to Guy. It drifted and stopped ahead of his face, giving him the chance to grab the screen and bring it close to view its list.
Lesser HP potion: 50 denar
Lesser MP potion: 150 denar
Survival Water: 100 denar
Medical Herb: 75 denar
Bronze Chain Mail: 1000 denar
Leather Jerkin: 850 denar
Wool
Robe: 750 denar
Half the items were land-dwellers only, much to his disappointment. Rachael wasn’t there to heal him, leaving him reliant on HP hyposprays, which Linier didn’t sell. He selected the Bronze Chain Mail and viewed its information.
Bronze Chain Mail [Chain Mail]
Rank: D
Defense: 6 Magic Defense: 2
Vitality +1
Sigil Space: 3
Requires: 46 Vitality
He liked it.
Purchase Bronze Chain Mail? Yes/No
He selected Yes.
Obtained: Bronze Chain Mail
And a cha-ching sound echoed as the item appeared in his inventory.
“Excellent choice,” Linier said. “But do not forget to stock up on Survival Water.”
He pulled a sample of the water from the screen, clenching it tightly to view its info.
Survival Water
Drink to prevent heat exhaustion in hazardous high-temperature environments.
Useable by: Everyone
Guy winced. “Eh . . .”
“The magic that powers your astral circuits can ward off the effects of extreme heat by draining your HP.”
He was still wincing while holding the bottle. “But if my HP hits zero . . .”
“Then you die. This water is special and will grant you a survival gauge. Keep it full and you’ll never have to worry.”
Purchase Survival Water x 25? Yes/No
He selected Yes.
Obtained: Survival Water x 25
With that done, he bid farewell to the fae and searched for the city’s exit to the desert up north. As Guy walked, he fiddled with his equipment screens, found and tapped the newly purchased chain mail, pulled it from his inventory, and put it on under his trench coat. A matching pair of chain gloves and greaves appeared on his hands and legs. The only way to get rid of them was to remove the chain mail.
The mail lacked sleeves, likely to provide space for him to put sigils on his arms. Too bad Guy’s trench coat covered the sigils. Guy rolled the sleeves of his coat up, just enough to expose his arms so that he could put sigils on them. It was too hot to have sleeves anyway, and he sure as fuck wasn’t getting rid of the coat. The fewer people who knew Guy was a human from the stars, the better.
Star Paladin: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 1) Page 14
