The Skull Throne: A LitRPG novel (Kingdom of Heaven Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  Still, I wasn’t sure what good it would do. I mean, it wasn’t like Barry and company knew anything about quantum physics or whatever scientific or magical nonsense made my coming here possible, but at least I wouldn’t be alone. At least they could tell Amanda I was (at least partially) safe and that I was trying to get back to her. I mean, she wouldn’t believe it. It was a patently unbelievable story. I’d be able to tell myself I tried though, and that had to count for something. Not a lot. But something.

  I leaned against a tree trunk, sliding down until I was resting on the ground. I had never realized how hard it was to sit while you’re in armor. It’s like trying to dance while wearing a tin can. Still, I was seated now, and I could remain that way for the rest of the day or however long it took for my Sanctity to build back up. It had already slowly ticked back up to 32%, even with the sharp hit it took when I’d refused Hecate’s quest.

  It was strange. I wasn’t hungry or thirsty or tired even. The only tug I felt, the only yearning inside me at all other than the need to get home, was a feeling pushing me to allow my Energy to replenish. The sensation had replaced the want for food or sleep. It had become a driving physical force.

  It was wild.

  Settling in, I decided to go through my inventory. I didn’t have anything else to do, and it had been a while since I’d really dug through there. I had come to rely so heavily on my sword that I rarely used any other weaponry outside of it or my daggers. Still, I’d bought some stuff while I was still trying to figure out what my path would be, and given that I couldn’t use my sword, maybe I could use one of them.

  I rolled through my weaponry arsenal, going all the way back to the first purchase I’d made.

  Sharpened Spear of Orion

  Two-Handed Longspear

  Requires Strength 100 to equip

  5,000 – 8,000 Physical Damage, 1.6 attacks per second

  Critical Hit +5%

  “An abnormally sharp, if somewhat crude,” hunter’s spear. The broad head still has crusted blood from the spear’s last kill.’

  It was a pathetic thing. It barely packed enough of a punch to deal with a noob, let alone a skilled player or an NPC outside of the sort you deal with in the tutorial zone, and most of that punch came from my own Strength and Knight Powers instead of the actual weapon. It was embarrassing for a player with my skillset and level to move around the game with something like this. It was a starter weapon if I’d ever seen one, but it was still mine, and I sure as hell could wield it.

  Mentally pulling the spear from my inventory bag, the wooden stick appeared in my hand. As soon as the weight fell upon it, a flood of memories came back. I’d gotten myself killed more times than I cared to count holding this stupid thing. There was that time against the ogre clan in the Foothills, that time a demon horde pushed off the Enchanted Moors, and the time Ember killed me on my first run in with the Avenging Angels.

  Later, I’d learned it was the way I handled myself with this thing (as well as Barry’s recommendation) that convinced them to offer me a spot in the guild.

  “That’s kind of pathetic, isn’t it?” a familiar voice shot out from beside me.

  Jerking to a more alert nature, I looked over to find the Jackal staring at me, his mouth twisted into a grotesque and insanely annoying smile.

  “Hey, best friend!” he shouted, waving excitedly at me even though he was no more than five feet away. Damned thing could sneak up on the best of them, it seemed. Which left me wondering what other things might sneak up on me if I wasn’t paying attention. “Where’s your green friend?”

  “She’s not my friend,” I said in a huff, tightening my grip around the spear. I had never known the Jackal to be anything more than a nuisance, and the fact that he’d just greeted me as his “best friend” didn’t give me any reason to think he was going to start being useful now. Still, I needed to be as prepared as possible for any sort of danger. This was my one chance. Hecate told me if I died here, there’d be no respawning. I couldn’t allow that. I had a life to live. I had family to be there for.

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” the Jackal said, almost flitting around me as he spoke. “What did you expect from an ogre? They’re nasty, vile creatures. And they know nothing of loyalty. Not like you and me.”

  “Right,” I muttered, looking over at him and gauging his body language. He was quick and sneaky. He was an NPC. So, in-game, I usually wouldn’t be afraid of him. Anything was possible now though, and like I’d said, I couldn’t take the chance. “What are you doing here?” I asked, glaring up at him.

  “Isn’t it enough just to want to see my best friend in the entire world?” Jackal asked, smiling at me again.

  “Stop it,” I said, swallowing hard. “I’m not a noob, and I’m not falling for your helpful imp nonsense. You’re here because you either want something or–”

  “Don’t be so sure,” he cackled in response. “I’m smelling a brand-new power source coming from you. Smells like burned rubber, mud, and BO. So I’m guessing it’s some sort of Nature-based Power.”

  “And Nature-based Power that wouldn’t help you,” I said without a hint of hesitation in my voice. “Now what do you want?”

  “It’s what you want, Iron Jack,” he said, momentarily stopping his movements and settling in front of me. “You’re here against your will, correct? The ogre and her people pulled you into this place, into this war. I’m guessing by the fact she’s not with you anymore, you don’t want to be here.”

  “You’re guessing right,” I conceded. “But what does that have to do with you?”

  “That depends on what you’re willing to do,” he answered in a very serious tone. “You have a life to get back to, I’m sure. Because our friendship is the stuff of legend, I want what’s best for you. I want you to be happy, Jackie.”

  “Don’t call me Jackie,” I answered quickly.

  “Why not? You can call me Chuck.”

  “Why would I call you– You know what? It doesn't matter. Go on with what you were saying.” I shook my head. This was insane.

  “I can get you home,” he said, snapping his fingers to make sure my attention was right where it needed to be. “It’ll take some Energy, and it’ll take more than a little concentration, but I can do it.”

  “Why?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. Something about this didn’t smell right, and there was no way I could trust him. “I’m your last hope, right? That’s what Hecate and Ori said. The Shadow wants the Skull Throne and–”

  “Then let the Shadow have it!” the Jackal answered, his teeth bared. “That’s not my problem or yours. He doesn’t venture into my woods, and you won’t even be on this plane of existence anymore. If the Principalities wanted to ensure the Shadow didn’t rise to power, then they shouldn’t have baited him the way they did. Either way, it’s not worth either of our lives. Let me send you home.”

  He was saying exactly what I wanted to hear, but something about it still felt wrong.

  “How do I know I can trust you?” I said, staring right at him.

  “Because we’re best friends,” he answered. “And because you don’t have any other choice. What’s the worst that could happen? I’m lying to you, and you’re still stuck here? Aren’t you willing to take that risk, seeing as it’s the only one you’ve got?” He did have a point there.

  I sat up straighter, listening to my armor clatter against the tree trunk. “Why are you helping me, and can it with the best friend crap. What are you after?”

  “You need something, and I need something,” he answered, his voice flat and serious. “I’ll send you home. I’ll do it, but first I need you to take care of a problem for me.”

  “What’s the problem?” I asked, standing up, spear in hand.

  “It’s not a what, Iron Jack. It’s a who. And I need you to do what you do best. I need you to kill.”

  12

  I followed the Jackal as we walked further into the forest. He was always in front of me, his
hunched over back like a compass guiding me somewhere I was pretty sure I didn’t want to go. Still, what choice did I have?

  If he could help me get home, I had no other option. Ori and Hecate had already spazzed out on me, making the Jackal pretty much the Obi Won to my Princess Leia. As much as I hated the idea of being this trickster NPC’s lapdog, I’d shut up and bear the indignity if that’s what it took to get me out of here.

  Still, as we left the beaten path, venturing out into a part of the woods I was pretty sure I’d never been through before, my Spidey sense got to tingling.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, checking my Sanctity and how far along the damage boost to my sword was. To my dismay, what had been a decent-if-slow regeneration had stopped once more. This didn’t make any sense. I had died countless times in this game. It never took anywhere near this long for my Sanctity to build back up. Usually, I was using the sword at top potential again in minutes. Here I was, almost a day later, and I was still sucking wind. I was missing something, but between the Jackal’s prattling and my troubled mind, I couldn’t see it.

  “I told you,” the Jackal said, turning back at me and smiling that grotesque smile. “I have a problem, and I need you to solve it.”

  I grimaced. He’d already told me he needed me to kill something. I wasn’t sure I could do that, especially considering I now knew these creatures to be real things with real feelings and real lives.

  At the same time, I was a knight. I had hacked and slashed my way through more than a few denizens of KOH, and the idea that I had been killing real things that felt the pain I’d inflicted on them was something I hadn’t really allowed to settle across my mind yet.

  How could I? Just thinking about it brought a weightiness to my decisions I wasn’t ready to acknowledge. It might have made me a bastard, it might have made me an awful person, but I just wanted to go home and forget all of this ever happened. The sooner I did that, the better.

  Still, I wasn’t sure I could kill now that I knew the truth of things, but would the Jackal help me if I said as much? If I stood there, heels straight, and told him I couldn’t take a life now that I knew it was a life, would he still help me get home?

  Best friend status aside, my gut was telling me probably not. But hey, maybe I’d get where I was going and would come across a three-headed monster who, in addition to eating children on the weekend, liked to give Westworld spoilers right after the episode aired. You know, that kind of monster.

  Of course, it that was the case, I had an entirely different set of issues to think about.

  “You know I’m not quite myself right now,” I said, walking faster to keep up with the Jackal’s pace. Since veering off the familiar path, his steps had come quicker and more comfortable while mine had slowed and turned toward the cautious end of the spectrum. “I mean, I have a stick.”

  He stopped, looking over at me. “Is that one of those dick joke things your realm is so famous for?” He cocked his head at me, eyeing me curiously.

  “No,” I scoffed, narrowing my eyes and lifting my hand, showcasing the lowly spear in it. “It means I have a goddamned stick. That’s it. I can’t use my sword. So I’m not sure I’ll be quite the ‘Iron Jack’ you’ve heard about.” I shook my head. “Also, are you telling me that, for all the Earth has done since, you know, the beginning of time, the thing we’re most famous for is dick jokes?”

  He shrugged. “That and Mountain Dew. That stuff is amazing.” He turned and kept walking. “I’m not worried about your stick, figurative or otherwise. You were chosen by the Principalities this time. They saw something special in you, and those winged naysayers see everything. I believe in you. They’re pretty good at what they do by now, so if they chose you, you’re the man.”

  By now? This time? What was the Jackal talking about? Had the Principalities chosen someone else before me? Was this not their first roll of the dice as Ori and Hecate had led me to believe?

  I shook my head again. It didn’t matter. I was in this now – right now – and I couldn’t allow myself to get lost in this world’s plight. Sure, the Shadow or whoever sounded like a bad guy, and while I was sure they could use my help to defeat him, I couldn’t commit to ruling an entire plane of existence.

  “And if I can’t?” I asked, pursing my lips and staring at the creature. “What if I can’t kill this thing? What if I get there, and I found out it's too powerful for me? Will you still help me get back home after that?”

  The Jackal chuckled. “First off, it’s not an ‘it.' It’s a ‘he’ and, unfortunately, if you can’t defeat him, then I won’t have the power to help you out. He stole something from me, you see. Something very powerful, something I could use to reopen the portal that sucked your soul into this wild world of ours. But if not…”

  He didn’t finish that sentence because he didn’t need to. It was clear. I had been on enough quests to know you needed to find the McGuffin if you were going to reach your goal. Sometimes it was an enchanted flute. Sometimes it was a flower that held a nectar you needed to extract. Sometimes it was a girl with more Power than she knew what to do with. I guess, this time, the McGuffin was an artifact stolen from the Jackal.

  My heart fell though because I now knew the thing I was being tasked to kill wasn’t a horrid monster.

  As much as I hated the idea of being stuck here, a huge part of me knew this was probably going to be the end of the road. I couldn’t kill a person. If it meant I never got to see John or Amanda again, then that’s what it meant. What kind of man would I be if I did that? Certainly not one who deserved to be loved by them.

  “I can’t,” I said as firmly as my constitution would allow given the fact mental images of my family were assaulting my psyche. “I’m sorry, but I can’t kill someone. I know he stole from you, and I know you probably think he deserves to die, but it won’t be by my hand.” I sighed. “What if I just stole it back? Would that work?”

  The Jackal swung toward me, his eyes wild with anger and his teeth bared. “Well, it’s inside of him. He drank my elixir and now it’s all mixed up in his blood. So, sure, assuming he sits there like a good little boy while you milk every last drop of blood from his system, I guess that’ll work. What do you think the chances of him doing that are?”

  I stepped backward, biting my bottom lip. “Sorry. I can’t. I know that, in some ways, it’s probably in my best interest to help you out, but I’m not that guy.”

  “Poppycock!” he shouted back.

  “Poppycock?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Yes,” he said. “It’s from your world, is it not? It means something that is so untrue it doesn’t bother elaborating on. Perhaps it hasn't quite taken off in your realm yet. We just got it here.” He cleared his throat. “In any event, you are most certainly that guy! You were brought here because you were that guy. You’ve killed more people than I care to count.”

  My heart sank because I knew he was right. Every creature, every boss, every poor elf standing on the side of the road whose throat I slit because I wanted experience points or because I was bored; they were all real.

  “I didn’t know,” I said, looking sheepishly at my feet. “I thought it was a game.”

  The Jackal shook his head. “It is a game. All of it is a game, depending on your perspective.” He moved closer, his eyes shining up at me dangerously. “You made me a promise though. You gave me your word, and I’m not about to let you take it back just because you don’t want to cause some tech guy in Baltimore or some bored housewife in London a few extra minutes of aggravation.”

  “Wait,” I said, blinking hard and putting it all together. “Baltimore? This is a person, like an Earth person? It’s PVP?”

  “Pee vee pee?” the Jackal asked, glaring up at me. “Is that another dick joke?”

  “No, it’s what we call it at home, player vs player. You mean to tell me the guy who stole your elixir isn’t actually in the game? I mean, at least not the same way we are.”

 
; “Does that make a difference?” he asked, narrowing his beady little eyes at me.

  “Of course it makes a difference!” I shouted, tightening the grip on my spear and ready to burst with anger. “I’ll kill the hell out of somebody if they’re not actually going to die afterward. Let the sonofabitch respawn ‘til the cows come home for all I care.”

  The Jackal tilted his head to the side.

  “Good,” he muttered. “I’m glad we got that out of the way because I think I hear your opponent coming now.”

  “What?” I asked, holding my spear upright. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Well, my ears are a bit better than yours. Give it just a moment, and then you’ll–”

  Just like that, the entire ground shook beneath me. It was as if a mountain was slamming across the ground with each step this guy took. The leaves themselves shook so hard they fell from the trees. Then, reaching the ground, lifted with each reverberation.

  “Who is this, Jackal?” I asked, my heart racing and my body tensing up. “Who have you pitted me against?”

  “Just a guy,” he said, scurrying off into the distance and darting up a tree. “A big guy, but a guy.”

  A shadow fell over me, so tall and mammoth, it blocked out the sky. Fear fell over me as well.

  “Good luck,” the Jackal said from a safe distance. “Can’t wait to see you – what was it that you said you were going to do – kill the hell out of him.”

  13

  Swallowing hard, I looked up at the giant who had obscured the sky itself. He was tall, of course, and bigger in terms of muscle than I had hoped. With blood red skin studded with protruding veins and yellow eyes that bore down on me in disdain, this thing was more a monster than anything I had come across during any of my other KOH ventures.

  His lower jaw jutted out, revealing two rows of razor sharp teeth sticking straight up into the air. His arms were corded with muscle and his neck was thick enough to hang a tire swing from. He was a brute and, as I mentally scrolled through the Rolodex of native species in the game world, I knew one thing was for certain.