Reincarnation Trials: A LitRPG Apocalypse (Systems of Salvation Book 1)

by Han Yang

I’d readily admit, running for an hour kicked the shit out of me. I’d never admit I ran like a frightened boy, but I turned tail and sprinted for distance.

  Either my rounds did the job, or I needed to find something to use as cover.

  When I reached the closest boulder, I braced for a massive creature to come around the corner. The barrel of the .45 waited, waited some more, and finally, I realized the monster wasn’t coming.

  I peered out, finding the prog’narock lying on the road with labored breaths. I aimed for the face, slinging two more rounds its way. The body stilled, the beast died, I panted in relief.

  I reloaded, knowing I created a bunch of noise. This was the biggest of the five I’d killed so far. The damn babies would be feasting on a trail of dead I left for them.

  All for a desperate little boy.

  The moment I finished reloading, I picked up a jog again. A prog’narock crested the opposite ridge as soon as I passed the dead beast. It stared down on me with that doglike wide face.

  “Come get some, you’re half the size of that one,” I shouted between gasps of breath.

  The monster perched, lying down to watch me run by. I had a feeling it realized there were two sources of food. A dead large prog’narock, or me. I posed a challenge. The other was easy eating.

  For a minute there, I thought the next challenger might make a move, but alas, I jogged by in peace.

  The next half hour resulted in the looming storm in the distance slowly marching to meet me. I couldn’t help but imagine it sped up. To pass the time, I decided to check my stats.

  Name: Theodore Karo

  Race: Human

  Age: 21

  Strength: 21

  Fitness: 18

  Aim: 17

  Survival Skills: 8

  Melee Combat: Novice.

  Weapon Combat: Moderate.

  Western Proficiency: 9/10

  Health: 10/10

  Thirst: 10/10

  Hunger: 3/10

  Weapon Rating: 8/10

  Gear Rating: 1/10

  Points: 17,733

  Ranking: 11th out of 123,479

  “Interesting that even more people are joining in,” I muttered.

  I had passed up my recent opportunity to take an hour out of the Trials mainly because we were about to land at Lornsto. You had to find somewhere safe to take your three hour-long nap and I figured if an emergency arose, Darcy would pull me out.

  What happened in that scenario to me, I had no idea, but I intended to ask about it.

  I kinda regretted missing the opportunity to figure out what was going on with the Fleet. Something had spooked or encouraged folks to return to the competition or hop back in, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

  My points had surged. I figured this was normal for someone who rescued a section of a town. They lived through the docks, I earned more kills, and so far, we were doing okay.

  Completed Quests:

  Quest: Reach Lornsto.

  Reward: 1000 points plus 100 points per survivor. 2,300 points awarded.

  Quest: Adopt an orphan.

  Reward: 1000 points.

  Quest: Slay a tier one alpha Prog’narock.

  Reward: 500 points.

  Not surprisingly, it didn’t count as a reward. I could live with that. At the rate I was going, I’d be the youngest citizen to ever make the council, a fact some would loathe.

  Before I dove into my current quests to complete, I inspected my surroundings; nothing but cactus, boulders, and bushes. On the distant horizon, I could just barely make out a horse.

  “I’m coming little guy,” I said, hoping he didn’t wander far from where I spotted him earlier.

  Last thing I needed was to find… Well, I didn’t want to think about it and kept my thoughts positive. Feeling a rhythm to my run, I pushed harder, noting this stretch happened to be narock clear.

  I’d have to ride through a half dozen narocks that let me pass, but they’d probably ignore me again, or so I hoped.

  After another scan of my surroundings, I decided to see what quests I could complete.

  Quests selected.

  Quests:

  Quest: Reach the Mine of Lornsto.

  Reward: 2000 points, plus 100 points per survivor, plus 1 point per supplies brought.

  Quest 2: A wave of adolescent narocks are scouring this zone. Survive for three days.

  Reward:750 points, plus 100 points per survivor.

  Quest 3: Rescue Zachary

  Reward:750 points if he reaches a place of protection. Bonus 3,000 points if you rescue his mother - Misa in Opo - within forty-eight hours.

  Quest 4: Kill a Lobo’narock.

  Reward: 600 points.

  Quest 5: Reach the ruined campsite closer to Opo and loot it.

  Reward: 550 points and 1 point per vital supplies acquired.

  Quest 6: Kill any tier one alpha narock of prog’narock or webo’narock variations.

  Reward: 500 points.

  Quest 7: Reach the confused animals in the open.

  Reward: 450 points and 1 point per animal secured.

  “Well, shit,” I grumbled. “Talk about a kick in the nuts. She’s as good as dead.”

  A prog’narock roared from behind a boulder a few hundred yards away. Slowing to a walk, I frowned, trying to recall what a lobo’narock was. Yeah, I didn’t give a hoot about this little guy charging me.

  I had this nagging sensation that I should know what a lobo’narock was and the darn data escaped me. I growled, letting the frustration go to kill this beast who dared to interrupt my run.

  Henry came to my shoulder, and I sighted the dumb prog’narock as it bounded across the open terrain without cover. It didn’t even dodge, charging right for me.

  My breathing reached a calming point, and I aimed the scope a smidge below the snout. When the prog’narock reached fifty yards, I had full control of my breathing.

  Boom!

  I was so certain of my shot, I didn’t instantly reload, choosing to watch the round blow off the jaw of the beast. I lost sight of the bullet as it sunk into the face. When it burst out the back of the head, the prog’narock tumbled until it stilled in a final pose.

  A distant streak of lightning snapped down, illuminating the dark wall on the horizon. I had to wait a good twenty seconds to hear the crack of the thunder.

  I tilted Henry, my hands deftly managing to reload the weapon in short order.

  The horse in the distance reared with a loud neigh, trying to catch my attention. Whoever trained this horse, both them and the horse deserved a medal.

  With the end in sight, and my feet blistering, I pushed on harder than before. Each step left me with labored breathing, but I dared not slow. Every minute counted, and if the horse were this devoted, then how could I not give it my all.

  I felt my gut twist in a knot when I saw a still form lying beside the horse.

  Had the mount stomped him? Had a monster killed him, and had the horse drove it away?

  The final sprint left me drained. This effort left me feeling like I needed to take up running in place even during confinement simply so I could stay in shape.

  While I was tired, it didn’t mean a damn thing because I saw the chest of that little boy rising and falling as I neared, and my body surged with renewed energy.

  The final few steps felt miraculous, and I gazed down upon the poor child.

  Zachary’s poor face was sunburned, his clothes ratty, and he stunk. I uncorked my water bladder, swigged a deep gulp of water, and -

  The horse bolted, neighing happily now that I took over.

  “Hey, I got food and water for you,” I said, trying to convince the animal to come back.

  It was then that I realized I should have grabbed his lead. The logical conclusion that the amazing horse who protected the innocent boy- would stick around, ended up being a fallacy. I stood there in shock as the horse thundered further and further away.

  “But… but… my fee
t.” I groaned. “That’s enough whining, Theo,” I said to myself. “Momma didn’t raise no quitter.”

  And that was that. I tried to see how I could save poor Zachary. I propped the boy up, his neck limp in my forearm. I slowly spilled water into his mouth. The liquid dripped down his throat in a very slow manner.

  While tedious, I didn’t want to drown him and my attempts to wake him failed.

  The boy groaned, smacked his lips, but never woke during the ten minutes of me getting water into his belly. I continued to do this until I felt I added enough to save his life.

  A quick inspection revealed he needed new britches. If I stripped him down, I’d expose more of his pale body to the intense sun.

  When I went to pick Zachary up to run with him, I about vomited.

  “An eye for an eye,” I said.

  I laid him down, stripped down to my under shorts, and set aside my pants. I grabbed my handkerchief, wetted it thoroughly, and stripped the boy.

  “You’re a hot mess. You must have stumbled around with shit in your pants for hours,” I said in sadness.

  Zachary had a massive rash on his butt. I cleaned him like I was his father and about cried at the sorry state he was in. He was burning up too, so I applied some water to his hair and sent some more down his throat.

  He coughed this time. His eyes flickering open before closing.

  “Good, good. Stay in there, little man. Fight the demons, never give up,” I told him.

  I emptied my cargo pocket of the feed I’d brought to reward the horse. I may hate the horse. I may wish the horse a cruel punishment, but he earned these oats and it’d lighten my load by that much more.

  I slid Zachary into my pants headfirst, ensuring both ends stayed open for plenty of air. While someone might judge me, I mainly wanted him to not get any more sun. The storm was still on the horizon with the sun soaking up the moisture already.

  Picking the little guy up was easy enough, situating Henry proved tougher, and no offense to Zachary, I wasn’t giving up my best friend. I made the best of a bad situation with a hearty chuckle.

  When I picked up a slow trot, I knew I’d bruise and blister from Henry not sitting right. There simply wasn’t a choice. I’d take the damage over leaving either behind.

  The first five minutes running back felt like an hour. The next half hour, my arms burned, my feet barked, and I worried I’d falter in my aim from the strenuous activity. An hour into my retreat home, I could only barely see the damn valley where I killed the alpha.

  The only saving grace was the blasted sun became blotted by advancing clouds.

  I knew the adolescent narocks weren’t running, but I could feel them nearing. With the clouds covering the sun, I decided on taking a break.

  In the far distance, even beyond where the clouds rolled closer, I heard a shrill roar.

  It suddenly came to me from the noise. The lobo’narock was an early Chinese narock. A big turtle with lobster claws.

  In the early days of the infestations, the Chinese refused to help defeat the threats in Africa. To be fair, the rest of the civilized world pushed armies into the region and the Chinese weren’t invited.

  Then the water variants arrived, and Chinese fisherman became targets as did their catch. The Chinese told the world they’d fix the problem, and everyone would be so grateful, they’d pay them. They bragged too soon.

  The great unveiling resulted in the world seeing what a first world country could cook up in its basements. The lobo’narocks. They ate the webo’narocks alright. Only the dumb ones. They were created to be smart with a body the size of a big ship right out the gate.

  The webo’narocks caught on, dodged the lobo’narocks traps, and within a few months the lobo’narocks started to eat the local fish instead of the prey they were designed for. Most were destroyed besides those rumored to have ventured to the deep depths.

  “Interesting she picked you…” I said, freeing Zachary from my trousers.

  He breathed fine, if not better than before, and his pale skin held more color to it than red. I decided to trickle water down his throat again. The toddler lapped it up subconsciously. After a while, I could see his little belly starting to balloon and stopped giving him water.

  “Good, good. Well done. I figure it took about two to three hours to get out here… maybe an extra hour back. Every time I stop, my feet just get so angry. Hey Zachary, can you hold Henry?” I asked and the toddler stayed dead to the world with his little chest -

  Out of nowhere, he peed on my leg. It was orange and angry, but that’d clear up with time. I sighed, resigned to my fate.

  The things we did to save the innocent.

  I slung Zachary over my left shoulder and tossed Henry onto my right. It was awkward but necessary.

  The next ten minutes through the valley left me concerned. A hungry prog’narock would chase a man down whether he held a weapon or not. A recently fed and bloated prog’narock may or may not pursue me and I had to be ready.

  I found the dead alpha being snacked on by three prog’narock which nipped at each other. I contemplated shooting them before I contemplated sneaking around them.

  In the end, I really wanted to set him down and give my feet a break. I climbed up the valley on my right, heading up a trail. When I scampered onto the rock, and our weight went to my butt, I felt like a slice of heaven radiated into my worn feet.

  Zachary farted while turning in his makeshift sling harness. I undid him, happening to glance down. Behind the rock beside us, I saw a nest. No babies rested in it thankfully. Both the webo’narock and prog’narock bred via live births.

  If I had to guess, one of the feasting beasts was about to give birth in a few days.

  “Sorry about this buddy,” I said and brought Henry to my shoulder.

  I watched the three prog’narocks ripping chunks of pinkish meat off the alpha’s body. With my life on the line, my arms found a stability I questioned earlier. I sighted the biggest of the three, waiting for the chunk to come free.

  When it tried to swallow the clump of meat, I exhaled, and brought the trigger back.

  Bang!

  The shot zipped across the distance and blew the top of the beast’s head clean off.

  I finagled a fresh round out of my bandolier, noting that Zachary didn’t wake. That concerned me and it might be perfectly normal for a distraught and dehydrated toddler.

  I had to keep us alive, focusing on my shooting. The old casing clattered over the rough terrain.

  A fresh round slid in smoothly and I locked the bold down with a smooth motion.

  The other two feasting beasts didn’t stop. Their hunger driving them to keep eating, even ignoring the sudden death of the dick who’d been nipping at them. I lined up the next target, unleashing a round through both lungs.

  This spooked the final narock and I figured this was the pregnant one.

  She bolted to hide behind a rock. I decided this was good enough. I could reliably gun down one beast within a short order, but three worried me.

  Zachary grumbled and that was good enough for me. I force-fed him a bit more water, watching the spot to see if the third beast reappeared. I caught sight of her fleeing toward the river which was a relief.

  The clomp of hooves from the nearby ridge caused me to tense. A moment later and that dastardly horse came over the lip. I poured some water into a divot on the rock and stepped back.

  The horse slurped it down, neighing at me for more. I obliged and grabbed the little shit’s lead in the process.

  I checked under the hood and said, “Good girl. I see oats in your gums. Glad you got your reward. Now, drink up, because I’m not walking anymore.”

  She didn’t fight me, drinking with abandon. When the mare finished, she sniffed the pocket the oats came from.

  “There’s plenty more at home. Sassy Sally. Yeah, that name sounds about right for you. Hopefully, you meet Binky one day and you both set off to become wild horses, but for now, you’re ru
nning us to Lornsto,” I said and barely managed to get myself into the saddle.

  I situated Zachary in front of me, tied Henry to the back satchel, and opened the pockets on the back of the saddle. Kids' clothes, a spare stuffed animal, and some toys were on one side. The other had jerky and water.

  “Why didn’t she go with you? Or did she try, and this unruly Sally separated you,” I guessed.

  I’d never find out. The only way I could go to Opo was by steamboat and it was more than two days away. Life wasn’t fair, but maybe I could do some good and I couldn’t help but feel like I just adopted another kid in Snagglewood.

  Honestly, now that I was off my feet, not much bothered me. I kept my free hand close to a sidearm at all times, and Sally even picked up a trot to rush us back to Lornsto.

  I just had to hope the mine was prime for us to move into, because we had limited time before a wave of adolescent narocks neared the area.

  24

  Snagglewood Day 19

  Lornsto

  “Where’s yer pants?” Mark asked, pointing at my exposed legs.

  “Bagging Zachary’s head. He’s badly sunburned,” I said, stopping Sally at the trough. “Come get him.”

  Silva came over and said, “I’ll put some aloe on his…” She accepted the boy. “Everywhere. Poor little guy. Beatrice will give him a look over too, she’s the closest thing to a nurse that we have in this group.”

  “Thanks, Silva,” I told her.

  “You got a moment!?” Roma shouted.

  I glanced at the gun-wielding adults who were having a meeting behind the well.

  “Kinda curious as to why everyone is still in Lornsto,” I muttered.

  Yilissa approached with her arms folded. “Finally, you’re back.”

  “What’s the issue?”

  “Too many bosses, not enough workers,” Yilissa said.

  I didn’t nominate a second in command, and this was the price. “And the mine?”

  “About ten minutes away from the river,” Yilissa said while pointing behind the barn. “It’s got babies in it and a momma that won’t come out. Where’s your pants?”