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

by Eddie R. Hicks

  Wylume grabbed Guy’s collar, held him steady, then pressed his sword into Guy, making the purple energy burn everything: the skin on Guy’s chest, his ribcage, the sides of his lungs, the muscles around his back. His blood boiled like a hot pot of water. Then his back tore open, and out popped Wylume’s radiating sword, sizzling the broken skin from Guy’s wound.

  Of course, Guy was long dead before the sword had poked out. Everything had turned black as his astral circuits projected one sentence to his fizzling mind.

  You Died

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Xanthe wondered why the empire bothered to maintain its airship air force anymore. The support the sentinels had provided them assured that Autumnfall’s air superiority over the world would remain unchallenged. A fae-built airship with a detachment of soldiers would be no match for a sentinel starship, machina cannons, and machina men.

  Yet, there Xanthe was, below decks on an imperial ship, drifting slowly through the clouds. Leafblade had invited her aboard. At first, she thought it was because he wanted to recruit her. Then he guided her into the ship’s central lounge area and the vacant space reserved for the ship’s primary source of entertainment.

  Dancers.

  She was back to dancing on stage for the dead stares of men, this time off-duty imperial soldiers and the airship’s engineering crew. They had set the place up nice—decorative plants filled the space between the stage and walls, and there was a bar in the rear for the soldiers to fetch wine and ale that they would bring to sit at a dozen tables ahead of the stage. You could not tell that they were in the middle of an airship.

  For now, she finished her dance, upset that her real magical dances required AP to take effect. If that were not the case, Xanthe would have charmed men with Alluring Waltz and ordered them to fetch her some food, maybe a drink. A foot rub would be nice too.

  “Who is she?” a voice in the audience asked.

  “The new entertainment and informer.”

  “Ah, I see. A multi-talented woman.”

  “Woman? Ha! She is a shadow angel. She is not a woman, just a tool eager to serve us.”

  Xanthe was a slave again.

  Serves her right for what she did to Rachael. But it seemed like the best course of action. The alternative was to fight, and even if they had won, she doubted the alerted soldiers in the castle would let them escape.

  But at least you would have killed Leafblade . . .

  Speaking of the imperial officer, Xanthe spotted Leafblade in the corner, leaning toward a window letting in white light as the airship passed through clouds. Xanthe ended her dance with a pose, then lowered to make an elegant bow to the roar of clapping hands. Afterward, she stood with Leafblade by the window, ready to ask him a question she had overheard the drunk soldiers talk about.

  “Leafblade,” she said to him, pulling his gaze from the window. “Is it true we are on our way to the island of Jenkovi?”

  “Yes. Where did you hear that?”

  “Your men have loose lips when they drink too much and cannot resist my high charisma. Why are we going there?”

  He shot her a cold stare. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “Does this have to do with Averyl’s sudden return?”

  “Why would you think that?”

  “Because . . .” Xanthe looked out the window. The airship had finished flying through the cloud. The island of Jenkovi drew near. In a few minutes, they would be close enough to see the small imperial fortress on the island and its many stained guillotines. “Jenkovi is a prison and execution island used by the empire, is it not?”

  Leafblade never gave an answer, not that she needed it. Xanthe had heard the horror stories of Jenkovi, home to the ghosts of hundreds of disobedient shadow angel slaves who had found themselves with imperial masters. Traveling on an airship from Tanashia to Jenkovi was the fastest way to transport someone whose head was scheduled to part from their neck, and Xanthe could only think of one high-profile person in imperial custody. Two, if you count Rachael, but when she last checked, the sentinel ship trailing behind was Rachael’s prison for now.

  Leafblade’s silence lingered, so Xanthe continued her prodding. “How did the princess make it back?”

  “We do not know for sure,” Leafblade said. “Servants discovered her in her room, acting like nothing had happened and surprised to be arrested.”

  “Why would the emperor have his daughter executed?” She watched him shrug and look away. “Oh, come now, Leafblade, you can tell me. I gave you the star-fae, and she has supposedly given you the location of the Paladin. I need to know what happened so I may continue to be of great use to you.” It took a lot of willpower to say that with a straight face.

  Xanthe’s words, enhanced by her charisma, manipulated Leafblade to reveal more.

  “The law is the law. Treason is punishable by death, no matter who you are. Besides, the princess has become worthless in the emperor’s eyes. She refuses to marry even when forced and refuses to produce heirs. The empire has no need for the useless.”

  “Perhaps if they had allowed her to select a partner.”

  “Averyl will only take other women. Again, if the emperor had more children, it would not be a problem, but it is.”

  “Well, that is not accurate,” Xanthe said and recalled what she read in the diary. “The emperor had three heirs, no?”

  “Yes. Two daughters and a son. The son is dead, and the other daughter . . .”

  Now lives with the former empress who left to marry the king of Firethorn. “Well?” Xanthe played dumb. She wanted to hear what Leafblade had to tell, and the look on his face suggested he did not want to say anything at all.

  “If I reveal anything more about the emperor’s other daughter . . .” Leafblade said. “I would lose my head. Even we afflicted can have a rather troublesome time keeping it attached to our body. Just know that there is only one heir now who could either produce heirs or marry a man who controls something powerful. Something they would be more than happy to lend to the empire.”

  “The sentinels.”

  “Emperor Autumnfall has declared war on the world. Alone? The empire does not stand a chance when all fae unite to fight us. With the power of sentinel machina and the crystals? That changes things.”

  “So, she was to marry a sentinel.”

  “No, just their envoy, Wylume.”

  The diary was right. I wonder what else Leafblade knows. He seems to enjoy our chat. The more I talk to him, the more he will lower his guard. “Wylume,” Xanthe continued, “he is not a star-human?”

  “Correct.”

  “So, the sentinels are land-humans with star-dweller machina?”

  “We do not know what the sentinels are. Nobody has seen them without their armor on. They might be human. They might be something else. Only their human envoy, Wylume, and one other speak for the sentinels. And so, the emperor has entrusted our military in their hands.”

  If Wylume does not marry Averyl, then the sentinels will leave the empire to fend for themselves in the planetary war they started. But . . . the emperor is ordering Averyl’s execution, and that would ruin their alliance. There must be more to it than that . . . Perhaps they are trying to scare Averyl with death. Make her panic and agree to the marriage.

  Outside the window, the escort sentinel ship moved up, blocking the skies on the horizon.

  . . . and there is no need for a sentinel ship to escort this airship to Jenkovi. The emperor is using fear to push Averyl into marrying Wylume. After that, the sentinels plan to do something else with Averyl and Wylume. The question is, what?

  Xanthe watched the escort sentinel ship, noticing a fae soldier buzz their wings in the gap between the two ships and fly from the airship toward the sentinel ship’s opened entrance. Leafblade stood with her and lowered his guard. If only she had five minutes alone with him.

  “How can they fly at this height for so long and keep up?” she asked.

  “It is part
of the affliction,” Leafblade said. “At higher levels, you can fly to these altitudes and remain there for some time. You should be able to with your level.”

  The flight stats. Xanthe recalled seeing that on her Status screens. She opened her menu to check.

  Flight Stats

  Flight Speed: 121.5 KP/H

  Flight Time: 12 Minutes 48 Seconds

  How? Her traits told her how.

  Enable High Altitude Flight

  Boosts Flight Speed by 100 KPH and Flight Time by 10 minutes. (Fae and shadow angel only.) Enables the ability to equip wings if race is not fae or shadow angel.

  “Can all races without wings fly?” Xanthe asked.

  “Yes, provided they gain wings of their own to use. Any class could fly if they truly wished for it. That is why we must crush them before they gain too many levels.”

  “They will become a threat,” she finished for him.

  The window reflected his nod. “The advantage we have right now is our numbers and levels. Most afflicted are too afraid to increase their level, are unable to, or are terribly slow at it. It needs to stay that way. And with your help, we will achieve that goal with ease.”

  “My help?”

  “Yes, the traveling shadow angel dancer, alluring those who watch her into their graves. You will weaken the infrastructure of cities we plan to attack.”

  An armored imperial fae marched behind the two, stopped, and raised his hand in a salute. “Sir.”

  Leafblade turned to the soldier. “What is it?”

  “The star-fae wishes to speak,” the soldier said. “We may have broken her, sir.”

  “Excellent,” Leafblade said and turned to Xanthe. “If you will excuse me, I will be flying over to our escort ship. Observe, and you will see what the affliction has done with my flying power.”

  Xanthe returned to the window as Leafblade left and watched the sentinel ship as he suggested. She examined it closely to see which of the side entrance doors Leafblade had flown to—

  A new Quest screen appeared.

  Follow Leafblade

  Objective: Escape the airship and fly to the door Leafblade used on the sentinel ship.

  Issued by: White Dragon

  Reward: 1000 Experience Points

  Accept quest? Yes/No

  I do not need this quest. I was going to do just that. But thank you for reaching out, White Dragon. I was wondering if I had made the right choice . . .

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Guy was dreaming, and he knew that because he was a kid again. It helped him forget the fact that he just died. He watched himself as a boy lay back on his bed and pull the blanket over him. His mother sat at the edge of the bed, holding a book and turning the pages as she read.

  Take the sword! Mother had said, reading the book. Stand your ground! Strike down evil and take away their means to bring harm. Let them know who’s there to deliver justice. Guy would give anything to hear her voice once more. And make sure they never hurt the innocent again.

  That was the role of the Paladin, and he failed royally at that. Wylume was right. Guy was no Paladin, just a space smuggler who got suckered into the role. Uncle Matthew should have been the one with the sword. Why the hell did he give it to Guy? Why the hell did Dad have to die before Guy was born? Why did Mom have a book that almost predicted the life he’d end up in? Guy had so many questions, and the three people who could have provided answers weren’t there.

  The smile the dream had given him turned into a raging frown.

  Guy awoke, screaming.

  He found himself on a dirty stone floor, his body free of his injuries and sore, but in one piece. Even his arm was back. Guy sat up, grunted at the cold stone walls around him and the vertical bars of a jail gate behind. Someone had tossed Guy in prison.

  A firm hand had held Guy’s arm and helped him up. Guy turned his head and saw it was Zuran who aided him. To his side stood Kam. Correction: Someone had tossed Guy, Zuran, and Kam in prison.

  “You are . . . alive,” Zuran said. “Praise be to Asteria.”

  Guy opened his menu and checked his Status screen.

  Guy Sutherland

  Class: Paladin LVL 13

  Subclass: None

  HP: 150/758

  MP: 188/188

  AP: 0/100

  LP: 8/10

  He lost two LP.

  “You are welcome, star-dweller,” said a man on the other side of the bars.

  Guy limped over, grabbed the bars, and peered at a fae standing outside in the hall, holding a large staff with a strange ornament on its top. The fae man wore a glittering robe with no sleeves to give the sigils on his arms space to glow. He glimpsed the man’s information.

  Imperial Officer (Cleric) | LVL: 15 | Rank: C

  Guy snorted. “Well, thank you, mister?”

  “Veronis, of the imperial army.”

  “Wow, I didn’t know the empire recruited pansy-looking motherfuckers like you.”

  “Oh, pay no attention to how I look,” Veronis the Cleric said. “This robe merely gives me the highest wisdom required to perform my duties.”

  “Your wisdom brought me back to life?”

  Veronis grinned, showing his white teeth to Guy. “We Clerics have a spell called Resurrection. It allows us to bring afflicted back from the dead, so long as they have LP.”

  “And it looks like I lost some,” Guy said. “Did Wylume go to town on me while I was dead?”

  “LP drains the longer you remain at zero HP,” Veronis said. “It took us awhile to drag your body here.”

  “And where is here?”

  “The keep that lays at the edge of the city of Coldhorn where you three had taken refuge.”

  Guy leaned closer to the bars. “What do you want from me?”

  “The fleet’s coordinates,” Veronis said. “Give it to us, or we will kill you again and knock off another point of LP.”

  “Then what? You’ll raise me from the dead?”

  “Yes, just to do it again,” Veronis sneered. “Keep stalling, and you will run out of LP. There is no way to recover LP, by the way. The 8 LP you have left is all you have to work with.” Veronis turned to walk away and vanished into the dark halls of the prison. “I shall leave you there to think about it, star-dweller. Ask yourself if you really want to spend your afterlife as a soul crystal.”

  He couldn’t hear Veronis’s footsteps anymore or see the Cleric. It was just Guy and his two cellmates, so he stood back and opened his Inventory screen.

  Guy’s Inventory - 00/50

  Well, shit . . .

  The empire took his gear, weapons, and items. Asteria’s Sword, too . . . Guy wondered what Wylume planned to do with it. Use it to create an army of Paladins? It’d make the empire harder to defeat if they had soldiers with my powers.

  Guy closed the screen, sighing. He looked at Zuran and his shirtless body, covered in sigils. Kam had his sigils too, and looking down at his own arms, Guy did as well. At least there was something the empire couldn’t take from them.

  “Yo, Zuran,” Guy called out to him.

  “If you are going to ask me to cast a spell, then save your breath,” Zuran said. “Tried that, and it did not work. I barely made a mark on the walls. I am not powerful enough, or something else is affecting it.”

  “Our newfound powers are strange,” Kam said. “Like the rules of the universe are changing and not fully set.”

  “I can burn targets,” Zuran added, “but I cannot burn the wall. And as you can see, they took my tome, so my spells are weaker without it.”

  “What about you, Kam?”

  The faun shook his head. “None of me skills are useful, lad, sorry.”

  Zuran stroked his chin, narrowing his eyes. “Actually, Kam, we never tried your AP skills.”

  “What’s the point? I got no weapon,” Kam said, pointing out the fact that the empire took his gear too. “And even then, the affliction must recognize that you are in combat, right? How could I build AP
without a target to fight?”

  Zuran’s narrowed eyes remained. A new plan had taken shape in his head. “What about a duel, Kam?”

  Kam looked confused. “A duel?”

  Zuran accessed his screens, scrolled through the options, and found one that would allow him to challenge Kam to a duel. Guy did the same and read the tooltip.

  You can challenge people to a friendly duel to practice or see who has the best skill! The duel ends when a target reaches 1 HP. You will never go to zero HP.

  “I can challenge you to a duel,” Zuran said, eyeing the menu. “That should put you in combat, Kam.”

  “And I will gain AP . . .” Kam read up on the rules of duels. His eyes opened wide. “This could work!”

  Guy grinned at the two. “Check out the big brain on Zuran.”

  “It’s my intelligence stat,” Zuran said.

  “Hmm,” Kam eyed Zuran up and down, then did the same to Guy. “Perhaps it would be best if Guy challenged me then? He’s at a higher level, and has high defense and HP. If I dueled you, Zuran, you would lose before I got 100 AP.”

  “Good idea, Kam,” Guy said to him. “Is intelligence your highest stat too?”

  “As a matter of fact, it is, lad!”

  “So I’m surrounded by two smart motherfuckers.” Guy brought up the Duel screen over Kam. “Okay, let’s do this!”

  Challenge Kam to a Duel? Yes/No

  He tapped Yes and waited for Kam to accept the request.

  He did.

  “Okay,” Guy said, lifting his fists up. “Just go easy on me!”

  A countdown appeared in their vision.

  3.

  2.

  1.

  Duel Commence!

  Kam didn’t go easy on him.

  The faun jabbed Guy in the face repeatedly. He had to strike him ten times to build 100 AP and Guy was certain Kam had hit him more than that. If Guy didn’t know any better, he’d say that Kam was enjoying it, stress relief for the situation they ended up in, a situation Kam could have avoided if Guy never traveled to Holt. Kam drove the last hit into Guy’s stomach, causing him to stagger backward.

  Kam backed off, fists still raised. “Did I tell you me daddy was a boxer?”