Earthdom: A Post-Apocalyptic LitRPG (Ether Collapse Book 3)

by Ryan DeBruyn

  Smith’s words caused Mr. Pips’ head to fall. When he looked back up, he had a fire in his eyes. “You can count on me, Smith.”

  Rocky immediately flushed. That was a very similar confrontation to the one Sela and he just had.

  Rocky ensured that Smith had the ability to grant tower permissions to other people. A runner approached, and Rocky listened distractedly. “Smith there are living quarters down all of these hallways. Thousands of them.”

  Smith looked at Rocky, and he nodded, confirming he had heard the news. Now wasn’t the time.

  Not that we need more right now, but we will if we start bringing more people back!

  Smith was now in charge of this operation. Rocky and Sela were given the task of heading into the shop and purchasing plenty of rations for the groups. Smith had also split up the military to accompany the hunters, ensuring a tank traveled with each group. The foodstuffs would then be packed onto the machines for ease of travel.

  ***

  Rocky’s disguise barely masked his impatience as he and Sela entered the seed shop and were teleported into the Aretrean Bazaar. Once inside, they caught sight of Mechano-Lords—one in each cardinal direction. Cloaked in their kimonos and fox masks, Rocky hoped that they wouldn’t draw attention to themselves.

  He followed Sela as she made her way toward Lingren’s Choo-Sentani.

  Be cool. These are not the humans you are looking for, droids.

  As they walked by, he made a small motion with his hand deep inside the sleeves of his kimono. He missed his ‘May the Force be With You’ sweater that had become rags after his first days in this new world.

  The Mechano-Lords ignored them, and after a short walk and wait, they met with Lingren to gear themselves up.

  Sela made her voice deeper and growled, “Need gear for younglings. What you have? Cheap but serviceable!”

  Lingren didn’t offer them tea as was his usual custom. The masks must have thrown him off—quite the feat for a man native to the planet. Rocky was glad for the reprieve from the elves’ sewer water he had sipped last time.

  “How many younglings are you looking to supply? How much do you have to spend?” asked the tanned and wrinkled elven-featured man.

  His palms instantly slicked with sweat, and he fidgeted in his robe. What if Lingren was only willing to sell this gear in bulk? The Territory could always use more equipment, but he wasn’t sure his meager funds could afford it.

  “Tribe has few taking trials this season. Traditional gear only for combatants,” said Sela.

  “Dumb animal probably can’t even count,” muttered Lingren. He held up his fingers, adding one at a time to the displayed number. “How. Many. Sets. Do. You—”

  Rocky reached out to grab the man’s hand and his enrobed arm swept through Lingren’s up ticking fingers.

  The man stopped and looked at his own hand. “Four sets, then.” He pulled roped bundles out of thin air. “At least these moonfolk could count my fingers. I swear elven dogs are more intelligent than the moonfolk. Imagine someone of my rank serving the likes of them. Disgusting.”

  Rocky opened and clenched his fists. He wanted to scream at the racist prick. Sela lightly touched his fist and shook her head.

  He tamped his anger down, and it simmered, ready to boil over at any moment. His previous esteem for Lingren plummeted with the casual racism on display. He was no better than Jessebihr, that sleazy Skills trader. In his previous life, he had been raised to stand up to acts like this. He bit down hard, his teeth grinding together, as he fought against his instincts. He’d like nothing more than to dropkick the big jerk, but he couldn’t afford to cause a scene. Not while the Mechano-Lords roamed the Bazaar on high alert.

  Lingren placed the four bundles between them. “Fifteen Crystals!”

  Sela held out one long sleeve of her robe. Crystals shone in the fabric covering her palm .

  “I said fifteen. This is six and change.”

  Sela offered him the money again and growled, “Take?”

  The sleazy elf threw his hands up and attempted multiple times to explain the problem to Sela. She tilted her mask, feigning confusion, and gestured entreatingly with her gem-filled hand.

  The merchant snatched the proffered Crystals.

  Sela swept the gear into Rocky’s bag, and they walked past the small line that had formed outside the merchant’s stall. Behind them, Lingren growled, “Have a great day, moon-moon’s!”

  For once, they had fleeced the fleecer. It looked like Lingren was the one dumber than a pack of elven dogs. Rocky sloughed the derogatory statement off his shoulders. As long as Lingren continued this behavior, Rocky intended to keep cutting into his profit margin. Maybe Lingren would finally learn a lesson.

  Rocky and Sela headed to Garnell’s booth next. For once, there wasn’t a line. Rocky perused the stacks of building materials and tools on display as they approached. He knew that Garnell also sold building and territorial blueprints, as well as a few items that were on a reserve list. The dwarf didn’t share that list with all of his customers, though.

  Garnell recognized them through their disguises. It wasn’t an exceptional feat of perception—he had been the one to sell them the Beastkin garb. They had also been here the day before in the same disguises’

  As they approached the merchant’s stall, an offer to enter a low-scale meeting room appeared, and they both accepted.

  They were transported to the same cold concrete room as their last visit. The decor hadn’t changed—four metal chairs and a single table. It was one two-way mirror short of being a lousy interrogation room.

  “I’ll contact Amelia—” said Garnell.

  “No,” interrupted Rocky. “Sorry, Garnell, we don’t have time to meet with her today. We have some very pressing problems to deal with right now.”

  Garnell tilted his head, and his bushy eyebrows drew together. “Then why are ye here?”

  Sela took her mask off and shook out her long hair. “We need plenty of rations. Figured you would be the best person to talk to.”

  Garnell smiled, transforming into the jovial man Rocky remembered. The merchant nodded and scratched his dwarven beard. “Alright, how much is plenty?”

  Rocky was loath to trust any merchant after the sickening display Lingren had just put on. Garnell was different—he hoped. “One hundred Crystals’ worth to start?”

  Garnell’s eyes went wide and he tugged on his beard. “Is ye Settlement that bad?”

  Sela shook her head. “No, Garnell, we need to save others. Also, I think one hundred Crystals will be more than we can carry out of here.” She glared at Rocky, who shrugged. They could use as much food as they could get their hands on.

  “By the great Crom—for one hundred Crystals, I can provide ye with ten pallets of travel rations today. Another ninety pallets can be brought tomorrow. Each pallet is stacked with approximately two hundred and fifty days’ worth of rations for one Karacy.”

  Tallying some mental math, Rocky determined that meant that today they could feed up to twenty-five hundred saved humans. Too bad the quests didn’t give numbers.

  “Done,” said Rocky. Sela would probably want less, but having too many rations was better than too few.

  Garnell produced the pallets which were swept into the Bag of Holding—nearly dragging Rocky to the floor.

  “Ye really do need to make time for Amelia.”

  Rocky nodded a bit chagrined and looked to Sela. “Later tonight? Maybe we can take an Elixir of Shortened Sleep and spare an hour?”

  “I agree, Rockland, but obviously, it is you who seems more hesitant in losing an hour for this task,” Sela said.

  She was right, of course. Even asking if they could spare the time was a cop-out. His heart felt like it was being ripped in two. They needed to save the humans, but would taking an hour to meet Amelia cost people their lives? He had delegated tasks to others. An hour now could save his entire Territory later.

  “We will send you a me
ssage tonight, Garnell. I apologize for any lack of sleep that may cause you.”

  He ported out and staggered from the shop building, immediately transferring nine ration pallets into the Territorial Inventory. He sighed as his legs shook with relief from the removal of the strain they had been under.

  Chapter Eleven

  Zippo, Sela, and Rocky rode atop Azoth, scanning the landscape below. The Chimera had grown so much—and not just in size—Azoth could now carry three humans.

  The group followed one of five golden threads that were displayed in their interfaces. Each thread would lead to a pocket of starving apocalypse survivors. There had been nine other rescue parties created from the group of volunteers. Each group was given a single pallet’s worth of rations to distribute across the tanks that accompanied them.

  He studied the new gear that he and Sela had equipped. Zippo also wore part of the set, but he had opted to add a robe and staff from the cultists of Apep.

  Tunic of Initiation

  ● This tunic is a regulated item and must meet the criteria laid out by the Beastfolk council to be sold as part of the Initiation set.

  Ether Pool: Small

  Current Ether Pool: 50 / 50

  Enchantments: Stats V (+1), Protection I (10%)

  Stats V

  ● All stats except luck are increased by one.

  The pants, boots, and gloves carried the exact same Enchantments. Leaving them and Smith with a plus four to all stats except luck. That was better than nothing, and the added protection Enchantments would hopefully give them some minor help in upcoming fights.

  Rocky shouted to Sela over the wind, “What initiation is this gear talking about?”

  Her arms gripped his waist tighter, sending shivers through his body. Using her strength, she brought her chin up to his shoulder. “The Beastfolk are particularly strong melee fighters. All their children have to undergo a trial by their 'god' to become an adult. The cubs and kits used to enter the trial the way they were born—with nothing but their fur, nails, and teeth. Many millennia passed like this, and due to the Beastfolk's number one export—their mercenaries—the clans couldn't keep up with the death rates.”

  “How do you know all of this?”Rocky was impressed. Sela had told him she disliked school. But for someone who admitted they hated school and classes, this seemed like a lot of knowledge to him.

  Sela dug her chin into his shoulder. “I went to the Atlantean Academy with a Beastfolk. He was from the Bear Tribe. Back to your first question, though. This gear was commissioned to increase the success rate in the trial. Each set must be identical to create an equal chance, and because of the constant demand, the supply increased. Thus, the lowered costs. This was all during my time, of course, but it seems that the market for it still exists.”

  “Look,” Sela changed the subject as their course adjusted. She must have directed Azoth mentally, because he banked left.

  Rocky tightened his grip on the saddle as the wind buffeted him. Once Azoth leveled back out, Rocky saw a cluster of buildings growing larger.

  His tension eased now that action was finally going to be taken. Azoth began his descent and touched down a kilometer away from the school grounds. Rocky counted the golems he could see. Fifteen.

  He Analyzed the closest golem, from just under five hundred meters away. That was a large increase for his Skill.

  Bio Enhanced Golem

  Journeyman-Crusher

  Level 10

  Health Points: 2500 / 2500

  The levels were an entire rank higher than the golem mobs they had faced early on in the Apocalypse. He didn’t spot any leader golems in the blockade, which was a blessing. He previously fought a particularly scary Basalt golem shortly after the first wave of Ether had struck.

  Facing Golem Leaders after the second wave isn't appealing at all.

  Sela slid from the saddle. “Alright, it is fifteen golems. Want to isolate and pick them off one by one, or group them up for some area of effect spells?”

  They were the strongest fighters individually, and the strongest party. They could probably wipe out the creatures with large spells, save the survivors, and move on. Still, he knew from his sports career that the 'easy wins' often became the upsets you suffered.

  “I am hesitant to take any fight lightly,” said Rocky. “Zippo, I know you have your Fire Tornado; anything new from Journeyman level? What about you, Sela?”

  “No new spells, but I did learn how to dual cast! Drains my Ether like crazy. Still, I can use Fire Wall and Tornado simultaneously, if they are grouped up enough,” said Zippo.

  “I have a Blight skill that will do extra damage because of the golems’ Bio Enhancement. It should also hold them in an area so Zippo can cast freely,” said Sela.

  Rocky looked at his own frustrating skill tree. Why was he the only one not getting new powerful skills? No, the real question was why he was the only one forced out of his original class tree? Was Michabo—

  He felt like someone had tossed pebbles into his stomach.

  “Azoth claims he can use a roar that has a chance to disorient enemies—I am paraphrasing—a lot,” Sela said.

  Thanks, Sela. Now my stomach feels like it is digesting those stones. I’m stagnating in my growth.

  He inspected his Soul Blade and the red rubies of the raven eyes stared back. The silence stretched until Sela punched him in the chest, startling him.

  “We are waiting on you to answer the same question, and you are just standing there—thinking?” she stated.

  “Sorry, I still have Dark Blade. I was just weighing the options.”

  “We can try an area of effect, and if it doesn't work, Azoth can probably carry three now,” Sela recapped.

  The three humans got into position and sent Azoth to lure the golems. The Chimera was dwarfed by the gargantuan constructs he ran toward. The first one to notice him swung its enormous fist down at the ground. Azoth nimbly jumped aside, and the golem dug a crater into the soft, grassy soil. The earth shuddered from the strength of the blow, sending small tremors through the soles of Rocky’s boots and into his legs.

  His stomach and heart trembled with the quake, as if he was on a roller coaster. His friend was in real danger. Azoth bounced around, gathering more and more of the golem's attention. Rocky's heart pounded harder as increasing numbers of titans struck at his friend.

  Sela laughed, and he stared at her. How could she laugh at a time like this?

  “He is playing with them, I told him the school is a safe zone. He is using it to his advantage. His running commentary is something like, 'You'll never catch Azoth—missed Azoth—Gamma and Tao would be disappoint.”

  He stared at the battle and saw what he had missed the first time. Azoth was modulating his speed to keep the golems close. Even though Rocky laughed, he couldn’t help but feel distanced from his pet, unable to hear Azoth's commentary firsthand.

  “He has them all, and is going to swing them this way,” Sela said.

  The fifteen golems attacking Azoth were bunched up in a tightly tangled mess of concrete limbs. The creatures circled the school grounds, as if an invisible forcefield prevented the golems from entering.

  Azoth used his freedom to dart in and out of that zone to his full advantage. His tactics forced the golems to walk the circumference in a tight group, all vying to attack the 'enemy.'

  Azoth led the golems to the area directly in front of Zippo, Sela, and Rocky before darting toward them. As the golems stepped forward, the grass under their feet blackened and curled in on itself like a dying snake.

  A fetid odor washed over Rocky, and he coughed and spluttered. The golems’ feet sank into the ground as if they had stepped into a thick bowl of swampy soup. Suddenly, the soil and grass that was protecting their bodies quickly began to brown and slough off their frames.

  Zippo cast a spell, and a pillar of fire formed in the center of the group, catching four of the golems. He raised his other hand, and a dark swirling clou
d of ash formed, obscuring the rest from view. The darkness flashed like ember lightning as the ash spun in slow, concentric circles.

  Rocky added his Dark Blade Skill, charged five times, and Azoth roared. The wind buffeted the group as Zippo's Tornado disturbed the equilibrium of the area. Rocky's Skill disappeared into the swirling blackness and screeched as it contacted the first golems.

  Zippo held the spells for approximately ten seconds before he crumpled to the ground, sweat drenching his skin. A few seconds later, the ash blew away in the gale force.

  What remained of the fifteen golems was laughable. Half-sunken into the bog of Sela's Blight skill were square chunks of blackened stone and flaming wood.

  Sela released her skill, and the ground solidified. The grass returned a moment later, seeming to grow from nothing. A few blades of the new grass withered and died from the fire, and Zippo held out a shaking hand and extinguished the puttering flames.

  “Nice work. Now let's loot and get those survivors some food and water,” Rocky said, dusting himself off.

  The group looted the corpses and crushed the golem cores under their feet. Sela insisted on it, going so far as to pull the ones Rocky looted out of his Bag of Holding and doing it herself.

  “My connection to Gaia says this is the right thing to do,” Sela said as she stomped on a core.

  As they approached the school, Rocky expected people to rush out of the building to greet them. They must have heard the noise and felt the vibrations of the combat.

  He opened the doors to the building and almost vomited. The smell of stale urine and drying excrement assaulted his nose, a stench worse than even the Blighted Bog. Azoth sneezed and moved away.

  “This isn't good at all. Even animals don't defecate where they live. Either the people inside are too weak to venture out onto the grounds, or something else is very wrong,” Sela said. “Azoth, go back to the Territory and bring three people here to take care of the people inside.”