Star Paladin: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 1)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  With his arms exposed to the air, he placed a sigil on them each, Wrath and Voice.

  New technique learned: Provoke

  New technique learned: On Your Feet

  And checking the tooltip . . .

  Provoke

  Increase enmity in a target based on your persuasion.

  Cost: 100 AP

  What the fuck is enmity?

  On Your Feet

  Release your war cry, forcing allies who have been knocked down to raise up.

  Cost: 100 AP

  Well, that would have been really fucking handy to have when the imperials attacked . . .

  Curiosity struck, and he changed his sigil setup to Voice and Blade.

  Nothing happened. Making matters worse, Guy couldn’t find Provoke or On Your Feet in his technique list.

  So, learning new skills isn’t permanent. I have to have the right sigils equipped. If I pull the right ones off my body, I’ll unlearn the skill. There’s a limit to how many sigils I can put on my body, meaning there’s a limit to the number of skills I’ll have at my disposal—unless I run around naked with sigils all over me.

  Guy returned to the sigil setup of Guardian, Wrath, and Voice. By the time he finished with that, he had traveled beyond the city’s stone walls, stepping foot into the blazing sands and arching dunes outside. It was hot, and the twin suns above weren’t helping.

  “Well, shit.”

  His quest tracker informed him that the city of Holt was to the northeast of the desert. Guy marched forward, leaving behind his boot prints in the sand as swirling winds blew past.

  Warning: You are now entering a hazardous area - Heat

  After twenty minutes of walking, Guy’s HP trickled down from 370 to 350. He clasped a bottle of water from his inventory and brought it to his face, wincing at the condensation buildup on it. He pulled off the wooden quark and drank it. A new gauge flashed on his UI.

  Heatwave Resistance: 100%

  It stopped his HP from draining at the expense of the gauge’s bar, its numbers slowly trickling down as Guy ventured through the dunes. Twenty minutes later . . .

  Heatwave Resistance: 12%

  So he drank some more water.

  Heatwave Resistance: 100%

  Down to twenty-three bottles now and no way to get more unless he went back to the city; it cost him two bottles just to make it this far into the desert. Shit, I got to move fast then and make the best of this protection.

  Guy upped his speed, power walking rather than slowly meandering and carving a long path through the sands—

  Something snarled at him as he walked to the top of a dune.

  Emerging from the sands below were bipedal lizard men with primitive blades in their hands. They weren’t going to let him get far.

  “All right, motherfuckers,” Guy said as he yanked Asteria’s Sword from his back. “Let’s see you handle my new setup!”

  He observed his opponents.

  Warrior Lizard | LVL: 6 | Rank: D | HP: 100%

  Warrior Lizard | LVL: 6 | Rank: D | HP: 100%

  It was an even match.

  Guy balanced his technique between blocking the Warrior Lizards’ sword slashes, then retorting with swift sword strikes, each connecting hit adding 10 AP to his AP gauge. He wasn’t sure if monsters were a slave to the AP system, and the Warrior Lizards didn’t live long enough for him to find out.

  After taking turns striking the two Warrior Lizards, Guy had 100 AP, then unleashed Storm Slash to knock them away and into the sand.

  Warrior Lizard | HP: 37%

  Warrior Lizard | HP: 24%

  He dashed to the Warrior Lizard with the least HP, swinging savagely as they wailed about on the ground. The monster got up quicker than he thought, but that was okay because he had already hit it four times. Just another six hits to go. He strafed around the beast, striking it quickly, and missing its short sword attacks.

  AP: 100/100

  The beast was also facing its end, thick blood draining from several red gashes across its body. Guy plunged his sword through its chest, pulled it out, then turned to the last one. He didn’t turn quickly enough and got a powerful bladed swipe to the face.

  Guy | HP: 308/370

  Guy didn’t bleed—his HP hadn’t gotten low enough.

  Now to see what this skill does. Guy used Provoke and suddenly jeered Asteria’s Sword at it, almost challenging the Warrior Lizard to fight him. The move sent a wave of red energy at the lizard, causing it to stop and rage, its fists pounding its chest. He pissed the monster off, pure hatred burning in its eyes. Oh, so that’s what enmity is . . .

  Guy had gone on the defense at that point, retreating behind Asteria’s Sword as he lifted it to block the incoming rapid slashes and the odd bite. He checked his HP.

  Guy | HP: 308/370

  Still good. Blocking combined with his defense kept him vertical and breathing. He touched the parts of his body that suffered an attack. No blood.

  When Guy ended the stance, he got vicious and smacked up the lizard man with left and right strikes, then spun to slice it again, bringing its HP to the levels where blood fell and darkened the sand below. The beast roared; its pissed off mind never forgot about the gesture Guy made. And that cost the creature. It was so enraged, believing Guy was a critical threat, that it never defended itself. Once Guy built 100 AP, his Storm Slash whacked the monster away, making it tumble down the dune.

  It never got up. Hard to when you have no HP.

  Both Warrior Lizards evaporated, leaving behind the spoils of combat and 25 experience points each. He placed his weapon to his back and examined the loot in the sand.

  Obtained: Hypospray: HP x 2

  Obtained: Basic Casting Tome

  Hmm, what’s this?

  Basic Casting Tome [Tome]

  Rank: D

  Magic Attack: 5

  Asteriarite Slot: [EMPTY]

  Requires: 30 Intelligence

  And I only have 16 intelligence. I guess I’m too dumb to use it or understand the weird words in it—

  The tome triggered a new quest screen to appear.

  Recruit the Mage

  Objective: Find the wandering land-fae and give them the Basic Casting Tome.

  Issued by: White Dragon

  Reward: 500 Experience Points

  Accept quest? Yes/No

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tanashia, the capital of the Autumnfall Empire, appeared on the horizon. It was the largest city on the planet, its walls heavily fortified to keep the empire’s enemies out from the city streets and away from the castle resting in the city’s central district. Very few people knew star-dweller machina powered the city, like its streetlamps, or knew of the millions of tons of titanium alloy applied to maintain the city’s walls.

  And nobody knew what the four towers at the city’s four corners were for, except elite members of the imperial army. The sentinel ship Wylume rode on lowered from the clouds and hovered above the southwestern tower. Sentinel machina forged a glittering white bridge to close the gap between the ship and the tower, providing a passage for Wylume to step off the vessel and into the castle, his black cloak waving in the winds.

  Two imperial guards stood to greet Wylume and gave him a salute. Wylume rolled his eyes. “Where is Lord Serzax?” Wylume asked.

  The guard to the left spoke. “He is resting in his chamber, milord.”

  “I see.” Facing back at the opened starship’s entrance, Wylume said, “Leafblade, Riversong, with me.”

  Emeraldal Riversong exited from the darkened interior of the ship, sliding her bow over her shoulder. Wylume glanced at her information, trying his best not to let her green eyes and matching lipstick captivate him.

  Emeraldal (Ranger) | LVL: 15 | Rank: C

  She gained a level from the siege of Muruai. He wondered if Heral Leafblade did as well and gave a long stare at the hulking fae with a two-handed claymore strapped to the back of his heavy cuirass.

  Leafblade (Berserker
) | LVL: 15 | Rank: B

  He did.

  Wylume strode past the guards as Emeraldal Riversong and Heral Leafblade followed behind. Once clear, the metal bridge vanished and the entrance to the sentinel ship sealed shut. The ship crafted by star-dweller machina rose and disappeared beyond the gray skies. Numerous men from the imperial army stood on patrol, each one saluting the trio as they walked through the castle’s halls.

  “Just tell him the truth,” Wylume said, walking backward to face Emeraldal and Leafblade. “I assure you, he will take mercy on you.”

  “With the power the affliction has granted us,” Leafblade said, “we should not have been—”

  “Nobody said this would be easy,” Wylume cut in.

  Wylume led the two into a dark chamber, the opened doors shining a ray of light on the bookshelves, burgundy carpet, and stone walls. You could not make out the appearance of the man sitting on a chair in the corner, star-dweller PDA in his hands.

  The chamber doors shut behind them, covering Wylume, Emeraldal, and Leafblade in the darkness. In the corner, the light from the PDA shined on its owner’s face and a lock of silver hair dropping to his right shoulder.

  A face illuminated by the PDA’s screen looked away from the device and toward Wylume.

  “Wylume,” Lord Serzax said from his chair in the corner. “You enter these chambers without Princess Autumnfall?”

  Wylume folded his hands before his armor infused with dark elemental energy. Not that anyone could see it, or the nod he gave to Emeraldal. “Riversong, tell him what you told me.”

  Emeraldal cleared her throat. “Averyl—”

  “Step closer, Riversong,” Serzax cut in, his voice firm and direct.

  She complied, taking three steps closer to Serzax’s darkened corner. Emeraldal continued. “Averyl was not on board the carriage.”

  Serzax lowered his PDA, resting it on the table to the side. His face was no longer visible. “And the bandits?”

  “We slew them,” she said, “and offered their soul crystals to the sentinels as per your orders.”

  “And . . . ?”

  “And . . .” Emeraldal hesitated, “we found a shadow angel. But she was not afflicted, so we let her go.”

  A pause came. Nobody knew what sort of body language Serzax was projecting. “You let the shadow angel go, even though it was clear she was to help the bandits.”

  “We are invincible to those who are not afflicted. The shadow angel was no threat, and the bandits only recruited those afflicted. She was, at best, a slave forced to serve them.”

  “But you learned today you are not invincible,” Serzax said. “At least, that is what the sentinels have told me.” Another pause and the sound of movement from the dark corner. “Is that not right, Leafblade?”

  Wylume imagined that Leafblade’s face had turned pale. Why else would he not answer? Wylume nudged the tall fae with his elbow. “Answer him. Tell Serzax what happened.”

  “During our harvest—”

  “Stand closer when you speak to me.”

  Leafblade stepped forward as Emeraldal stepped backward and continued. “At Muruai, we commenced our orders to harvest its afflicted inhabitants. Some of my men were attacked.”

  An eerie pause.

  “Your men . . .” Another pause. “We placed Curtakis in command of that operation, with Wylume overseeing it.”

  “He was killed, milord.”

  “Killed? By whom?”

  Wylume grinned. Leafblade withheld the fact that Wylume was the one who ordered Curtakis to duel that Paladin. Leafblade’s loyalty would be useful—

  “By whom, Leafblade?!”

  “A Paladin.”

  Silence.

  Serzax made a sound like he was clasping his hands together in the darkness. “A Paladin . . . Does he?”

  “Yes,” Leafblade said. “He has the sword.”

  “Find and eliminate this Paladin at once,” Serzax said. “We cannot allow him to gain any more levels than he already has.”

  Leafblade lowered his head in a respective bow. “At once, milord.”

  “I will personally inform Emperor Autumnfall of this news,” Serzax said, “and ask that he forgive you for your failures.”

  Emeraldal bowed next. “You are too kind, milord—”

  “Riversong, what did I say about speaking to me from that distance?”

  “Oh, my apologies.” She bowed three times.

  “Riversong, Leafblade,” Serzax said to the two, “leave us.” They bowed again as they took their leave, walking to the dark door that they could not see. It took them two minutes to find the handle and open it, bringing light back into the chamber. “Continue the harvest and the search for this Paladin and Averyl.”

  They left, shutting the door behind them and covering Wylume and Serzax in darkness.

  Footsteps echoed and a glass dinged, then another. Liquid poured into a glass, then a hand clasped around it. Silence fell, then came a gulping sound. Then the glass clanged on a wooden table.

  “Wylume,” Serzax snarled. “I thought you said you have slain Matthew Sutherland.”

  “I assure you, he was dead,” Wylume said. “But . . . this infuriating incident may work in our favor.”

  “Yes. This Paladin has brought Asteria’s Sword to this world.”

  “We may be able to pick up where we left off in harnessing its power.”

  “I am still concerned about Matthew being alive.”

  “I will launch an investigation. Oh, and . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “The Paladin,” Wylume said. “He is a star-dweller.”

  “So . . . the star-dwellers could be corrupted by the affliction too. His starship?”

  “Destroyed. The sentinels were quite thorough with that—”

  “You should have preserved it!” A thud crashed against wood, likely Serzax’s raging fist. “We could have learned where the star-dwellers come from . . .”

  “My apologies, I just wanted to ensure he did not escape. If I may, are the sentinels not like the star-dwellers? They use machina like them.”

  “The sentinels are as clueless as to the location of the star-dweller home as we land-dwellers are.”

  “So, the sentinels are . . . ?”

  “The sentinels are . . . a different kind of star-dweller.”

  That would explain why sentinels were unaware of the three star-dweller trading ships that landed on Faeheim. One being the Paladin’s ship, the others being . . .

  Wylume’s eyes opened wide. A burst of inspiration struck. “Wait.” He stroked his chin.

  “Hmm?”

  “If I am not mistaken,” Wylume said, “after we discovered the Paladin’s ship, I asked the sentinels to scan for others. They detected two signals from other star-dweller vessels on the planet.”

  “An emergency rescue ship since you destroyed his?”

  “Perhaps, we know not of how their emergency signals work. Personally, I believe the two ships had arrived ahead of the Paladin. They may be smugglers from the fleet.”

  “The Paladin might try to escape on either of the two ships.”

  “I will ask the sentinels to find them.” Wylume spun to leave, his eyes unable to locate the door handle. “Rest assured, this Paladin will not make it off this planet alive, and we will take back the Sword of Asteria.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Xanthe was on the job again, belly dancing and twirling, drawing dead stares from the men who watched. She motioned to the left, and their heads followed. Xanthe strutted to the right, and the cold gazes locked onto her body followed. She was in sync with the Bard’s music as her breasts, loosely covered by the outfit’s elegant bra, shook. There was not a man in the tavern who did not see that. Sweat dripped from the faces of her audience like fresh morning dew on shaken leaves.

  She watched Slather enter the Inn’s tavern, taking a seat at an empty table. He was right on time, according to her quest tracker. The White Dragon knew he would b
e in today. A trio of young fae girls joined Xanthe on the stage, twisting about to make the thin fabric of their loincloths flutter. If you looked closely enough, you could catch a three-second sight of cherry-red fuzz between their legs with every rotation they performed as they danced. The men's dead glares shifted to the fae trio and would remain until their performance ended. Good.

  Nobody cared that the shadow angel left the stage to dance among the seated patrons, trotting her way to Slather, lifting her wings up to ensure she never smacked someone in the face. She was at Slather’s table now, and she grabbed and pulled an empty chair to her, placing her left foot on the seat and keeping the right one on the floor. Xanthe’s exposed leg magnetized Slather’s eyes as she ran her fingers across the sun-tanned flesh.

  His face brightened red. Xanthe had his attention. Of course she did. He was the reason she could do this. Does he remember me?

  Xanthe resumed dancing as she cocked her right index finger at him: Come with me. Slather stood with Xanthe. She spun around, grabbed his hands, and guided them to the hump of her arse, forcing him to hold it as she twisted her rear on his crotch. Slather got hard fast.

  New City, New Job - Quest Updated

  - Work as a dancer until Slather arrives [Completed!]

  - Get Slather into your room

  She shut that screen before he could see it, thankful she had her back to him as she continued to work her arse into his front. She twirled to meet his gaze, held his hands, and forced them up the side of her thighs, barely covered, then up to her waist and midriff, stopping shy of her breasts.

  Xanthe leaned forward. “This is all they will let me do.”

  He grinned. “That is unfortunate.”

  “Do you like me?” she whispered.

  “Yes.”

  “Stay for the night. And I might offer you the after-hours show.”

  “You are good.” He hesitated to say more. “Is this how this establishment gets men to stay?” A smile. “Luckily for you, I still have business to attend to here.”