Shattered Lands 3 Demon Wars: A LitRPG Series

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Shattered Lands 3 Demon Wars: A LitRPG Series Page 4

by Darren Pillsbury


  “A high school diploma isn’t going to mean much when the world lies in ruins,” Rebecca pointed out.

  “Yeah, well, I don’t want to die unnecessarily,” Lauer said.

  “From what, the AI?” Daniel asked.

  “No, I don’t want your mother killing me,” Lauer grumbled. “You’re going to school, and that’s it.”

  “Can we at least take the rest of the day off?” Mira asked. “There’s only a couple of hours left, anyway.”

  Lauer sighed. “Fine. But today only. Then tomorrow you’re back in school. Got it?”

  “Got it,” both Daniel and Mira promised.

  9

  It was after 1PM when Daniel and Mira got back to Daniel’s house. Mr. Lauer had to return to work, so it was just the two of them alone in the house.

  The second gaming system was still down in the study where Eric had left it, so Daniel and Mira lugged the CPU and mask back upstairs to the guest bedroom.

  “So… this is the set-up,” Daniel said as he gestured to the twin beds.

  “You know,” Mira teased, “regular teenagers would be using this for a completely different purpose than saving the world.”

  Daniel’s heart hammered wildly in his chest as soon as she said it. He looked at the twin bed nearest them –

  Is she saying what I think she’s saying?!

  She smiled at him coyly.

  He moved over to her, cradled her face in his hands, and kissed her.

  She kissed him back passionately.

  Within seconds, their hands were roving over each others’ bodies – his hands underneath her shirt, her fingers clutching his back –

  They stumbled over to the bed and lay down, him on top of her.

  He began reaching behind her, fumbling with her bra strap –

  “Wait,” she said breathlessly.

  Daniel stopped and looked down at her.

  “We’re supposed to go find Eric,” she whispered. “We probably shouldn’t do this right now.”

  Though everything inside Daniel shouted YES WE SHOULD!, he nodded reluctantly. “…yeah… you’re right…”

  But neither of them moved.

  They both lay like that, fully clothed, his body between her open legs, staring at each other.

  “So… uh… are you going to get in that bed, or are we going to share this one?” she giggled.

  “Yeah… right,” he said, and got up quickly.

  He sighed in frustration as he plugged in the CPU and mask and settled down on the other bed by himself.

  Just before she slipped on the mask, Mira grinned over at him. “See you in the game.”

  “Yeah… see you soon,” he said, not without a certain amount of grumpiness.

  10

  When Daniel came out of the White Room and back into the Shattered Lands, the first thing he was aware of was the complete devastation.

  He was standing in the fields outside the city of Blackstone – or what had once been Blackstone. The entire city had collapsed into a sinkhole that Eric had created by seeding the vast underground sewers with explosives. The ground had caved in, and along with it every building, temple, palace, and cobblestone street.

  The 200-foot walls that had circled the city had been reduced to house-sized boulders strewn across a barren landscape. Even the sewage-filled moat had been mostly filled in with stones and rock.

  Not even the grass fields where Daniel stood were undefiled. Thousands upon thousands of dead bodies lay in giant piles rotting in the midday sun. They were largely the casualties of Eric’s first attack on Blackstone several days ago, though there were a few fresher corpses here and there. Humans in armor… elves… orcs… dwarves… horses by the score… and hundreds of skull-faced warriors from Hell, their heads cracked or impaled or caved in.

  The visual horror of it all was unimaginable. The stench was even worse.

  Daniel just stood there in shock. Less than 24 hours ago inside the game, this had been a vibrant city with tens of thousands of occupants. Now all that existed was a seemingly endless field of rubble.

  I’m buried in there somewhere, he thought.

  Actually, he knew his digital body from the battle this morning had more or less ceased to exist the second he had been resurrected.

  But it was an odd sensation to see a place where you knew you had died.

  2D gamers experienced it all the time and never thought about it. But it was different when the game actually felt real.

  When you actually felt like you’d died.

  He’d fallen 200 feet to his death. He still remembered it vividly – from the air rushing past his face, to the broken stones and buildings rushing up at him –

  His whole body jerked involuntarily, like a sleeper awaking from a dream, and he shivered in revulsion.

  After the death and destruction surrounding him, the second thing Daniel became aware of was a warmth radiating against the left side of his face.

  He turned to see a monkey-sized fire sprite sitting on his shoulder.

  “Siffis!” he cried out in joy.

  The flame-colored creature just stared at him impassively, like nothing had ever changed.

  Siffis was an ignis, an elemental fire spirit. Daniel had first encountered the creature while he was trapped in Hell – or at least the Shattered Lands version of it. Siffis had helped Daniel and his companions escape, and ever since then had been a constant companion…

  …until the second Battle of Blackstone.

  Daniel had sent Siffis out to attack the archers lining the city walls. Then the walls had collapsed. He’d been almost certain the creature was dead – after all, it had to have fallen 200 feet, just like Daniel had. And NPCs weren’t resurrected when they died.

  Daniel thought back sadly to Simik, the dwarf who had trained him and served as his mentor… and then was killed because of Eric’s careless, malevolent use of power.

  But here was the fire sprite, sitting on his shoulder, bored as bored could be. From what he’d seen so far of fire elementals, they tended to be stoic and taciturn – but ‘stoic’ and ‘taciturn’ were understatements as far as Siffis was concerned.

  “How’d you make it out, buddy?” Daniel asked.

  “Burned way out,” the creature said in its peculiar voice, like propane gas hissing from a leaky valve.

  “I guess that’d do it,” Daniel conceded.

  He looked around the field. There were dozens of characters suddenly appearing out of thin air – humans, orcs, elves, dwarves, and the whole gamut of different races. Players who had died during the collapse of Blackstone and were only now logging back in. They tended to look around in bewilderment, scrunch up their noses at the stench of rotting meat, and then beat a hasty retreat for the woods.

  There were also a fair number of looters – goblins, mostly, though there were some tall, willowy creatures in black rags – who were combing the bodies and stealing things of value: knives, coins, swords, shields. Daniel thought about sending Siffis after them and burning them to a crisp, but he had no idea if maybe this was just the accepted course of things in the Shattered Lands.

  “DOOOOOOT!” a voice cried out from nearby.

  Daniel turned around to see a hulking figure striding out from the dunes of rotting bodies. On his shoulder sat a small green goblin, and behind him followed a fish-faced humanoid.

  “Drogar!” Daniel called out happily. “Vlisil, Lotan!”

  The three friends all waved, and there were fist-bumps and high fives all around as soon as they reached Daniel.

  “Did you guys just respawn?” Daniel asked.

  “No, we’ve been going around looking for you,” Lotan answered.

  “Where’s Mira?” Vlisil asked from atop Drogar’s shoulder.

  Suddenly there was a piercing shriek from up above. A griffin circled through the air, then came to a landing in a relatively clear stretch of field.

  “Mira!” all three warriors cried out.

  “Hey guy
s – UGH,” she said, suddenly wrinkling her nose and looking around at the bodies. “Oh God, this smells bad.”

  “You can turn down your olfactory settings,” Lotan said helpfully. “That’s what we did.”

  “I think that’s a good idea,” Mira answered, and both she and Daniel accessed their menus and dialed down the stench until it was merely a hint of unpleasantness.

  “How come you still haf your griffin?” Drogar asked.

  “I didn’t die,” Mira reminded him.

  “Oh yah…”

  “God, this is depressing,” Mira said as she looked around her at the thousands of bodies in the field. “And disgusting. Can we get out of here? Where’s your rides?”

  Drogar threw out his hands in exasperation. “No idea, doot.”

  “The neural links were severed when you died,” a British voice said, emanating from thin air. “I just reinstated them – they’ll be along shortly.”

  “Jerome!” the three warriors cried out again.

  “What are you doing here?” Daniel asked.

  “Technically, I’m not.”

  “I meant what are you doing helping us.”

  “Again, technically, I’m not. I’m logged on as a separate user.”

  “What’s going on?” Vlisil asked suspiciously.

  “We’ll tell you soon,” Mira said.

  “I’ve got to go, but I wanted to let Lotan, Drogar, and Vlisil know – ”

  “You mean Prescott?” Drogar asked mischievously.

  Vlisil smacked the top of his head.

  The barbarian turned his head slowly to look at the goblin.

  “…sorry,” Vlisil murmured.

  “The three of you have had your death lock-outs decreased to ten seconds.”

  “What?! Really?!” Drogar enthused.

  “You mean, if we die, we come back in ten seconds?” Lotan asked incredulously.

  “Exactly. Daniel and Mira, I’m still working on yours – it seems the AI went to extra lengths to complicate things for the two of you.”

  “Why’d you change it?” Vlisil asked.

  “Eric got his decreased to about ten seconds, too,” Daniel said. “We needed to even the playing field.”

  “Got to run – your animals should be here shortly.”

  “Any sign of Eric or the AI?” Mira asked.

  “None so far. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Bye, Jerome,” the others all said, but there was no reply.

  “What’s with him?” Vlisil asked.

  Daniel explained everything that had happened since their ‘deaths’ earlier that morning – including Eric’s escape and all the corporate intrigue and cowardice surrounding it.

  “Holy crahp,” Drogar muttered.

  “So we need to find Eric?” Lotan asked.

  “Yes,” Daniel confirmed.

  “But we don’t know where he is.”

  “…no.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Vlisil asked. “Just randomly fly around?”

  Daniel looked at Mira. “I was thinking… maybe we should go back to the original plan.”

  “Which is what?” Vlisil asked.

  “Split up and try to recruit allies.”

  “What for?”

  “You know Eric isn’t done. He’ll get the soldiers from Hell back, and probably more this time. He’s going to attack another city… and then another… and another. If we can’t track him down, we need to be ready for him when he makes his move.”

  “Well, I already failed miserably with the elves,” Mira sighed. “I don’t feel like wasting my time again.”

  “You can go with me to see the dwarves,” Daniel said.

  “So I go to the droths?” Lotan asked.

  “And I go to the goblins?” Vlisil asked.

  “And I go to the barbarians?” Drogar chimed in.

  “Yeah. You should still have your maps, if you added them to your inventories before you died.”

  They had.

  At that moment their separate creatures landed in the clearing behind them: griffins for Daniel and Drogar, a snow-white pegasus for Lotan, and a…

  “Vhat the hell is that thing again?” Drogar asked as Vlisil’s mount hopped along the ground.

  “It’s a chickaril,” Vlisil said angrily.

  The chickaril resembled a giant baby chick, four feet tall with yellow fuzz and large, innocent eyes.

  “I steel think it’s a chicken for babies,” Drogar chortled.

  “Shut up!”

  “Alright,” Daniel interrupted, “anybody got anything else they want to say before we take off?”

  “When do we meet back up?” Lotan asked.

  “We don’t have a deadline like we did last time, so I guess we’ll play it by ear. Keep in touch via the game’s text message app… and if you get in trouble, hopefully Jerome will be around.” Daniel paused. “Good luck.”

  They all looked at each other wistfully as they said their goodbyes. Drogar set Vlisil gently on the ground.

  “See you soon, doot,” the barbarian said quietly.

  “Yeah… see you soon,” the goblin said, his voice subdued.

  But as they climbed on their rides, the barbarian couldn’t resist one final jab as his griffin flapped its wings and soared into the air.

  “Don’t fall off your chickaril, doot!”

  “SHUT UP!” Vlisil screamed as his animal hop, hop, hopped and took flight.

  11

  Eric – 1PM Tokyo Time

  Eric woke up as the plane touched down on the runway.

  “Mmwha?” he slurred as he looked around in a stupor.

  The pretty flight attendant was sitting buckled up in a seat further down the aisle. “You slept the entire time – we just landed in Tokyo.”

  Eric frowned groggily. “How long was I out?”

  “Eleven hours.”

  Daaaamn…

  Still, he had basically been up the entire night before.

  His mouth felt dry as cotton.

  “Can I get some water?” he asked the woman.

  “Of course. Would you like to take it with you?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  She came back with a cold bottle of water, and he chugged almost all of it at once.

  As soon as the plane taxied to a stop, the flight attendant opened up the door and he shuffled down the steps into the bright midday sunshine as she smiled and said goodbye.

  The airport was apparently a tiny private one, off the beaten track – but he could see a massive skyline in the distance.

  But… what was he supposed to do now?

  He hadn’t had any contact with the Unnamed One while he was in the air. He had no idea what the AI had planned next.

  He was about to turn back to the flight attendant and ask what he should do when he saw them.

  Two guys in black suits and sunglasses, but with flashy shirts – one scarlet red, the other neon blue – were standing at the front of a black Mercedes. Eric noticed that one had tats poking out from under his shirt cuffs, and the other had an elaborate tattoo on his chest where the shirt flared open.

  Yakuza.

  Japanese gangsters.

  Eric had seen them depicted in movies before. They were bad, bad dudes – people you didn’t want to run across in a dark alley.

  And one of them had a little white piece of paper with ‘Eric Richards’ written on it.

  Oh SHIT…

  Eric turned around as inconspicuously as he could (which was not inconspicuous at all) and headed back towards the plane –

  Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  He turned to stare into the sunglasses of one of the mobsters.

  The man held up a cell phone, and a familiar voice rumbled over the speakerphone.

  “ERIC RICHARDS, GO WITH THIS MAN.”

  Eric stared at the gangster, who handed the phone to him and raised his eyebrows like, Go on, take it.

  The upper two knuckles of his right pinky were
gone, incidentally – like they’d been sliced off. The scar tissue was an angry red stump.

  Eric took the phone and shakily held it up to his ear, though he never took his eyes off the gangster.

  “Uh… hey,” Eric said.

  “GO WITH THE MAN WHO GAVE YOU THE PHONE.”

  “Look… I don’t mean to be ungrateful or anything, but…”

  There was a pause.

  “WHAT?”

  “Do you know what kind of guys you’re setting me up with, exactly?”

  “CRIMINALS,” the AI said matter-of-factly. “NO ONE ELSE WOULD SMUGGLE YOU INTO JAPAN FOR ANY AMOUNT OF MONEY.”

  “They’re… um… how do I put this…”

  “YOU CAN SPEAK FREELY. THEY DO NOT UNDERSTAND ENGLISH.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I ASKED HIM, SO THAT HE MIGHT GREET YOU WHEN YOU ARRIVED. HE SAID THAT HE DOES NOT SPEAK ENGLISH.”

  “Wait – how’d you ask him?!”

  “JAPANESE WAS SIMPLE TO MASTER.”

  “You learned Japanese?! In eleven hours?!”

  “AND FRENCH, SPANISH, PORTUGUESE, MANDARIN, CANTONESE, HINDI – ”

  “How?!”

  “THEY ARE REPRESENTATIONAL SYSTEMS WITH PHONEMES ATTACHED TO SYMBOLS. I SIMPLY – ”

  “Okay, never mind, sorry I asked. What do you want me to do?”

  “GO WITH HIM. HE WILL TAKE YOU WHERE YOU WILL BE SAFE.”

  Eric wanted to say, From who? You – or more yakuza?

  But all he said was, “Okay,” and handed the phone back.

  Then he got in the car.

  The gangsters both sat in the front. Neither of them said anything to him – they just stared straight ahead as the car set off down the highway.

  Eric fidgeted in the backseat. As soon as he finished drinking his water, he fiddled endlessly with the bottle. His stomach was grumbling – it must have been sixteen hours since he’d eaten anything.

  The car ride took almost 45 minutes, all of it in complete silence.

  His thoughts eventually turned to Daniel and Mira.

  He was angry at them, yes – for shooting him outside the mines, for betraying him, and basically for cutting him out of their circle – but he was also puzzled by what Daniel had said.

 

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