Rogue Online: The Devil's Gate: A LitRPG adventure

by E K Baxter

  But then something else caught his eye. Something small and oblong lay in the captain’s pocket. Flicking back the man’s cloak, Max reached into the pocket and pulled the object out.

  Max released the spell, popping back into existence fast enough to make Sam squeal in surprise again.

  “Can you please give us some warning when you’re gonna do that?”

  “What have you got there?” Terra asked.

  Max straightened, holding a scroll in his hands which he quickly unrolled. “A map.”

  Arlena’s eyes popped open at that. “A map?” she croaked. “Show me.”

  They all crowded around to look. Arlena reached out and touched the first page, running her fingers almost reverently down the faded parchment.

  “Do you know where that is? It shows—”

  She didn’t get any further. A huge crash reverberated through the dungeon and the door suddenly flew open, spilling guards into the room. They all wore the colors of Lord Mespar.

  “Shit!” Max muttered. He tucked the map away and equipped his bow.

  The others arrayed themselves around him, even Arlena, who grabbed a sword from a slain guard and held it in front of her in a two-handed grip.

  “You think I’m going to let you take me alive again?” she rasped at the guards. “Come any closer and I’ll take a few of you to Hell with me!”

  One of the guards took a step towards Arlena but Max let fly with an arrow before he could reach the resistance leader. With his enhanced skills the arrow flew true, taking the man through the eye and sending him staggering back into his comrades, three of them collapsing in a heap. Arlena and Terra waded in, Terra’s twin blades flashing, Arlena’s single one swinging mightily. In only moments three guards were dead.

  Max glanced around desperately. They mustn’t get trapped here. If they ended up in a melee it might end with one or more of them getting killed and now that he was over level 10 he suspected his weapons would start to degrade if he did that and maybe he’d even lose his fledgling magic ability. Max had worked too hard to lose it all now.

  “Quickly!” he shouted. “Back into the sewer!”

  Sam charged with his shield, aiming to batter the guards out of the way but as he slammed into the remaining men there was an almighty clang as though his shield had hit something metal and then Sam was staggering back, a huge dent in his shield and an even bigger dent in his HP.

  A figure stepped out from behind the group. It was a man, clearly, but his features were obscured by a helmet. He wore black armor and held a two-handed bastard sword in his grip. Cold blue eyes looked out from the visor slit.

  “I’d expected more,” the man said. “Is this the best you can do? Crawling through shit with a band of misfits? You’ve fallen far, Max.”

  Max blinked. “You...you know me?”

  “Oh yes.”

  He raised his gauntleted fist and the guards charged. Almost instinctively Max’s squad fell into formation, Sam in the front, Terra and Arlena behind and Max hanging back so he could use his bow. But he didn’t.

  As fighting erupted in the confined space, he craned his neck to peer over the heads of his companions at the newcomer.

  “How do you know my name?” he shouted. “Who are you?”

  But his voice was lost in the clash of weapons and the din of battle. The man, Max saw, didn’t join in the fight. He merely stood at the back of the group and watched, his gauntleted hands clasped in front of him and a small smile on his face.

  “Max! A little help here!” Terra shouted. She was steadily retreating from a barrage of blows that an ax wielding guard was raining down on her. His strength was outstripping her speed, shrugging off her attempts to get inside his reach.

  Max shook himself. Nocking an arrow, he imbued it, and silver fire sprouted from the tip. Sighting along the length, he took aim at Terra’s attacker but it was difficult to find a decent shot with them moving so quickly.

  “Terra! Duck!”

  She dropped to the ground and Max let fly, the arrow taking the man right in the chest. His arms flew wide, the ax falling from his grasp and Terra darted from the ground and stabbed her short-sword right into his groin. Max winced as the man let out a scream of pain, blood gushing down his legs.

  Arlena and Sam were fighting side by side. Arlena, it appeared, was a master swordswoman and had some combos that any high level player would be proud of. Despite her weakened state she spun and kicked and brought her blade scissoring into her attackers, sending blood and gore raining down.

  Sam was guarding her back, ramming his shield at anyone who came within range, breaking more than one nose in the process. Max fired two imbued arrows in quick succession, taking down two enemies and opening up a gap in their line, a gap just wide enough for Max and his companions to squeeze through.

  “Quickly!” he shouted. “Follow me!”

  He ran for the gap but the armored newcomer was suddenly blocking his path.

  “I don’t think so,” he sneered, then punched Max so hard that Max went sailing through the air and smacked into the far wall with a crunch. Pain exploded through his body, the edges of his vision turned red and his HP dropped by 25%.

  Shit, he thought. Who is this guy?

  Then a message popped into his field of vision.

  Black Knight has used Stunning Strike on you. + 20 attack. +25% armor penetration. If you’re gonna hit, hit hard!

  What the hell? Max thought. Who is he? And how the hell did he know my name?

  “Wait a minute!” he gasped as realization exploded over him in a wave. “You’re not an NPC. You’re a player!”

  The man laughed but there was no mirth in it. “You’ve been on your own too long, my friend. It’s addled your brain. You really think you get this place all to yourself?”

  After finding no other players in the market safe zone, Max had assumed there were no other players in the Rogue Lands and that he was the first to trial this new game.

  He felt at his jaw. He would have one hell of a bruise. “Since when did this become a PVP?” he demanded.

  The man laughed again and something about it sent a shiver down Max’s spine. “Oh, you stupid little shit! Haven’t you figured it out yet? I make the rules here.”

  He strode closer and Max forced himself not to back away. He equipped his ax and held it two-handed. If he was going to go down to another player he’d go down fighting, damn it!

  But the man stopped a few paces away and cocked his head to the side. “I told them you were nothing to worry about but they seem to think you’re more of a threat than you are. You’ve caused quite a stir and got some of the high-ups worried. They see something in you although I’ve no idea what the hell that could be. They don’t see the runny-nosed little shit that I see.”

  Max stared at him. “Who are you? How did you know who I was?” A feeling of unease was beginning to uncoil inside him.

  “You really don’t recognise me, do you? And after I came here especially to find you. I’m hurt.” The man put a hand to his heart and pouted.

  “I’ve no idea what the hell you’re talking about—” Max began but stopped as the man pulled off his helmet, revealing his face.

  Max’s eyes widened at the sight, his heart thudding in his chest. He’d recognize that face anywhere.

  “Kalrick,” Max breathed. “It’s you.”

  Chapter 11

  The Black Knight grinned. “The very same. I’d like to say it’s nice to see you again but I’m afraid I’d be lying. I’m getting a little tired of being your nursemaid.”

  Max shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “What are you doing here?”

  The last time he’d seen Kalrick the man had been shooting at him in an alleyway. Max’s blood suddenly ran cold. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m sure you can figure that out. You upset quite a few Corporation bosses with your little stunt at the tournament. Our betting syndicates lost a hell of a lot of money when you double-cros
sed us. But more than that—you defied the Corporation. Nobody does that. Did you really believe you could get away with it? That we’d just let you go?”

  “That doesn’t make any sense. This is a prototype game made by a rival company. There’s no way they’d let a Corporation agent play.”

  “Is that what Eric told you? That this is a prototype?” He barked a laugh. “Oh, my naive young friend, it’s way more than that.” His face folded into a frown, his expression turning cold. It was the expression he wore right before he killed someone. “Eric has meddled quite enough in our affairs. He’ll get what’s coming to him sooner or later and then there’ll be nothing standing in our way.”

  “In the way of what?”

  Kalrick grinned. “Now that would be telling.” He curled his gauntleted hand into a fist and red tendrils of power crackled around it. “Eric has managed to hide you in the real world. We don’t know where your body is but it didn’t take us long to figure out where your mind would be. So here I am. I’m going to bring you home—right after I kill you in the most public and degrading way I can devise.”

  Max’s fear was suddenly replaced by a hot, simmering anger. Who the hell did this guy think he was? “You know your problem, Kalrick? You always talked too much. Now!”

  He swung his ax at Kalrick, just as Sam, who’d been creeping up on the man from behind, swung his sword. Kalrick caught Max’s blow on his gauntlet but Sam’s connected with the back of the man’s legs and sent him crashing to the ground. Max equipped his knife and rammed it into Kalrick’s gut but the blade caught on the man’s plate armor, barely leaving a scratch. Then Arlena was there, driving her sword downwards in a two-handed punch that would have skewered most men.

  But Kalrick merely caught the blade in his gauntleted hand and gave it a savage twist. The blade snapped clean in half and he dropped the pieces disdainfully.

  “Enough!” he roared.

  Surging to his feet, he jabbed his fist at the ceiling. Red tendrils erupted like lightning, catching Max and his companions square in the chest.

  Max tried to move but found he couldn’t. His legs and arms felt like they were made of lead. His eyes sought his companions and he found that they were similarly trapped.

  Black Knight has used Petrification on you. You are rendered immobile and can only move when the caster commands it. Magic users are unable to use spells on themselves or against the caster. Cost: 750 mana.

  “I’ll kill you for this,” Max growled. “I’ll kill you.”

  Kalrick walked over and patted Max on the cheek. “Ah there it is, that famous spirit of yours. Good to see you haven’t lost your attitude even if your confidence is misplaced. Haven’t you realized you aren’t a level 100 assassin mage anymore, Max? You’re just a newb. A weak, inexperienced newb. What chance did you ever really have against the Corporation?”

  Max glared at him, hot rage simmering in his belly. The Corporation. Oh, how he hated them. They had been manipulating him from the start, controlling his life like they controlled the lives of virtually everyone on the planet.

  “Be careful,” Max warned. “Your arrogance will be your undoing.”

  Kalrick merely grinned. He waved a hand at his remaining lackeys. “Tie them up and bring them.”

  The guards brought thick ropes and tied Max and his companions at the wrists none too gently and then lashed them together into a line. Arlena spat curses and got a punch in the face for her troubles that almost knocked her unconscious. The others didn’t argue after that.

  Kalrick lifted a finger, spoke a word, and Max found he could suddenly walk although his legs still felt as heavy as wooden posts.

  “Where are we going?” Sam asked as they were herded and prodded towards a door on the far side of the jail. “My family has important connections in this city! I demand a fair trial!”

  Kalrick snorted. “A fair trial? You won’t be getting any trial at all. You’re all going to be executed.”

  ***

  The journey through the palace passed quickly. As they were dragged along Max looked around, searching for something, anything, that might help them. The few people they passed were either mercenaries or glassy-eyed townsfolk and they paid the prisoners no heed at all. Max cast Stealth, hoping to disappear, but nothing happened, not even a graying of his vision at the edges.

  Kalrick’s spell was still blocking his ability to cast magic on himself. Damn it.

  He thought furiously. There had to be a way out of this. There had to be. But he couldn’t think what. The introduction of a player and changing to PVP had altered the rules. Kalrick was in charge now. Max had to find some way to thwart him or his game was over.

  And what happens when I come out of the game? he thought with a surge of fear. Will the Corporation be waiting for me in the real world? What will they do to me then?

  The thought left him cold. There were rumors about what had happened to people who defied the Corporation and none of them were good.

  Anger flared inside him again. I don’t care what Kalrick says, Max thought. I might be a newb here and a lower level than him but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him win!

  They were led down a long narrow corridor with windows on one side. Sunlight streamed through the windows and Max saw dust motes dancing in the shafts. Outside was a beautiful blue sky with wispy white clouds floating high above.

  A good day to die, Max thought.

  They reached a large wooden door. From beyond Max could hear sounds. He struggled for a moment to work out what he was hearing but then realized it sounded like the muted mutterings of a crowd. Kalrick signaled to two of his guards and they threw the metal bolts that held the door closed then pushed it open. A wave of sound rolled over Max and he squinted in the sudden light.

  He and his friends were marched out into a wide courtyard that was filled with people. The crowd turned to look. The sound intensified as an ugly jeering broke out, many of the people pointing and shouting obscenities. These people weren’t dressed in the colors of Lord Mespar and his mercenaries but wore the common garb of the townspeople.

  “Bloody traitors,” Terra growled. “Don’t they know we’re trying to help them?”

  “It’s not their fault,” Arlena said. “They aren’t in control of their own minds.”

  “I know some of these people,” Sam muttered. “I’ve shared a tankard of ale with some, bought groceries from others. Gods, look at them. They’re baying for our blood like a pack of hounds.”

  The analogy was a good one. The looks on the townspeople’s faces were feral, full of hatred, as Max and his companions were led through them. Kalrick’s guards fanned out on either side of the captives, forming a barrier that kept the townspeople at bay.

  “Traitors!” a woman shrieked. “Hanging’s too good for you!”

  “Lord Mespar is our savior!” shouted another. “How could you betray him?”

  “Die, scum!”

  “I hope you go straight to Hell!”

  Max gritted his teeth and looked straight ahead, refusing to be cowed by this show of hostility as that was exactly what Kalrick wanted. Instead, he forced his expression to remain neutral even though inside fear and anger swirled in equal measures. Up ahead, through the crowd, he spotted their destination. A large platform had been set up and from it sprouted gallows. Four nooses turned lazily in the breeze.

  Kalrick led them to the platform and they were prodded and poked up the steps until they stood in a line facing the crowd.

  Max gazed at the townsfolk. A sea of hatred met his gaze, faces twisted into grimaces of spite and anger. And yet, beneath it all there was still that glassy look that suggested Arlena was right, these people were just as much in Lord Mespar’s clutches as Max and the others. He struggled in his bonds but they held his wrists tight. He equipped Stealth and tried to cast it but nothing happened. He glanced at Kalrick and found the man watching him with a smirk on his face.

  “You can’t beat me, Maxwell,” he said. �
��It’s about time you realized that.”

  “And it’s about time you stopped underestimating my friends and I,” Max snapped back. “You think you’ve beaten us? We’ve got you exactly where we want you!”

  His words were empty bravado and Kalrick saw straight through them. He snickered. “I’m terrified. I really am. Now, let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”

  He stepped to the edge of the platform and raised his arms. A hush fell over the crowd.

  “People of Myrlind!” he shouted. “We have traitors in our midst!”

  There was a round of roaring and jeering. Kalrick waited patiently until it died away then continued, “But do not worry! As ever, our glorious leader, Lord Mespar, is taking care of us! He has captured these traitors and will see that they never threaten Myrlind again! Let us give thanks to our glorious leader!”

  High up on the palace wall a window suddenly opened and a man stepped out onto a balcony. He was a tall man with wide shoulders, built more like a warrior than a politician and he had silky white hair tied back in a braid. He leaned on the balustrade and gazed down at the crowd. From this distance he couldn’t be sure, but Max got the distinct impression that he was looking straight at him.

  Name: Lord Alexander Mespar, governor of Theloria province

  Level: 30

  Lord Mespar has ruled the province for over twenty years. His rule, once so benign, has become one of tyranny and darkness. Lord Mespar’s thirst for knowledge has led him down a dark path.

  Beside Max Arlena and Terra both swore.

  “Mespar!” Arlena yelled. “You have betrayed your city! Your people! I will see you dead for this! I swear by my ancestors!”

  Max stared at Lord Mespar. A purple stone hung from Lord Mespar’s neck which reminded Max of the medallion that Sam’s father had worn. It pulsed suddenly, sending out a wave of purple light.

  In response the crowd rose up, roaring like a beast.