Reborn as a Baron Lord (Light Novel) (A Steampunk LITRPG Light Novel Book 1)

by Han Yang

  I did the most rational thing possible.

  I dove into the cave opening and hoped the abnormally large gorilla would take his free food without a fight.

  The crash of the mighty beast sent my heart racing. Grit fell from the ceiling as the tree cave was shoulder checked.

  A massive hand reached in, its fingertips coming inches from grasping my waist.

  My mind finally connected the dots and processed what was coming next. When you reach into a box, you don’t grab what you seek. You -

  I leveled the blunderbuss at the opening, stepping forward with the weapon firmly against my shoulder.

  The hand retracted swiftly. A fraction of a second later two massive eyes peered into the small cave. I smirked in satisfaction of being right.

  Before the eyes could finish widening I pulled the trigger.

  BOOM!

  The steaming blunderbuss round belched forth in a dazzling display of incredible power.

  The result was instant. A spreading circle of bluish white swirled forth at astonishing speeds.

  The firing was so fast that the tendrils of power were still ejecting the weapon as a massive hole bloomed in the face of the gorilla. I wanted to watch the magic tear through the beast, but was robbed of the enjoyment by the kickback of the weapon.

  I flew backwards, crashing into the wall. The unexpected impact caused me to bite my tongue.

  Blood filled my mouth that I spat onto the cavern’s floor. Hesitantly stepping forward, I held my weapon up like it could fire again.

  Steam hissed out of tubes and I was shocked to see it actually still held a minor charge.

  Holding the trigger mattered. Good to know for next time.

  I lowered the weapon as I approached the twitching gorilla in the middle of its death throes. There was a basketball sized gaping hole in the face of the beast. These things were tough if it was still dying with that kind of damage.

  I gave the twitching beast space, allowing the mortal wound to do its work.

  I headed back into the cave, unslung my bag, fished out the hydrox velvety purse, and filled the blunderbuss again. The process was tediously slow and again I realized I’d need to find a faster system.

  A second mouthful of blood was spat out and there was a tingling sensation of my torn tongue healing.

  The charging hum of the weapon told me it was ready for killing.

  I left the cave, carefully walking around the tree. I peeked around, inspected tree tops, and cleared as much of my surroundings as I could for other threats.

  Gearnix was brutal. I let the fact set in that I’d just killed a monster. A literal twelve foot tall gorilla, downed with a bloody magical shotgun. I kissed the weapon as I finally let go of my anxiety and let euphoria pour in.

  “Oh… you leveled,” I said, seeing that the weapon had grown ever so slightly and added new gears into its design. “What do I call you?”

  The weapon unfortunately didn’t answer.

  “Darcy, yeah I like that. Darcy sounds great. Reminds me of Mom. If I won’t remember her later, then having her watch over me by naming my trusty boom stick after her… well, that’s fitting,” I told the weapon.

  When I arrived over the dead body I grimaced.

  “How the hell do I get your heart out?”

  My question wasn’t answered until about two hours later. I would learn that a cutlass can’t cut through ribs. No matter how hard you try, or how much you think it's actually working, it’s not.

  The trick was to open a hole under the rib cage and reach up. I could only use one hand to fish the heart out, and after pulling just about everything besides hydrox out first, I finally retrieved an eight sided cube the size of my fist.

  When I studied the container it shined bright enough to blast through the caked blood. I frowned, not willing to waste the last of my water to clean the nasty filth off.

  A few minutes later, I had the hydrox set into my bag, and a pep in my step. I never dropped my guard the entire walk to Langshire. If there was one thing I learned about Gearnix already, it was that the wilds were to be taken seriously.

  Whistling off tune on my walk, I pondered as to what wonders Langshire held.

  CHAPTER 5

  “Oye, where’d ya come from,” a guard shouted at me.

  After stumbling upon train tracks I followed the metal lines for Langshire. I was just as confused as the guard because there were never expansive farm fields I’d expected to see.

  The trees stayed thick, remaining uncleared, and allowing no room to blast aggressors. Instead of big defenses, I ran into four guards, a rusty wall, and a tunnel opening big enough to fit a train through. Big gates hung open, revealing a light at the end of the tunnel.

  It was like Langshire was asking the wilds to attack it. Odd.

  Even more shocking was the four guards in leather armor holding minimal weapons. I’d caught them lazing on steel chairs around a card table. Big cigars hung from their mouths, and I obviously was unexpected.

  “Charlie, maybe he’s deaf?” the second guard said to the first with an elbow jab.

  It hit me pretty hard then that I understood what they were saying. At least I arrived speaking the same language.

  “No… not deaf, though my ears are still ringing. I had to shoot a gorilla about twice my size with a blunderbuss,” I said.

  They looked at me in dismay.

  “Ya went huntin?” Charlie asked. He grabbed a clipboard off a wall that a pencil was tied to. Neat to see some things from earth were present here. “Yer not on da list off the Huntas who went out today.”

  “Ah, well… Um, yeah. I kinda crashed in the wilds. I was aboard -”

  “A Crussian Charter. Overdue by four days now. By the gods and goddesses. A survivor. You’d be blessed. Mistress Patrica was sayin we might have wounded arrivin, yet… well. I’ll need a full report,” he said eagerly.

  I was wondering if there was a reward for information. Based on each of the bobbing heads, I’d assume there was. If this leader lady was fair, she’d pay us both, and causing waves with guards wasn’t on my to-do list so I recalled my backstory.

  Ten minutes later I finished my tale with, “And here I am.”

  “Awe… the Mistress wants the loot from the dead,” Dedric, the second guard, grumbled. They’d searched my bag. Unimpressed by the big hydrox container I had.

  Even though I gave them information freely I gleaned some details of my own. For instance Charlie had two full sleeves of metal and dual metallic legs, where the others had the standard three modifications. He had the only long rifle, and it was upgraded or at the very least had better basic parts.

  The others had no excess of wealth on display. The gate duty seemed like the place you sent the one you didn’t want guarding the casino until they were trustworthy.

  “So... am I free to go in?” I asked.

  Charlie nodded. “Travelers pay no taxes on earnings. You stay over a moon, or rent something for longer than a moon, and expect to start getting taxed. Welcome to Langshire.”

  “Real quick. Why don't the walls get attacked?” I asked.

  They frowned, tucking chins at this question. “Ocarna has wall attacks?”

  I shook my head. “They do clear the walls in case they happen though.”

  “Silly ways. The Mistress sees no need. We’re just here to track arrival dates and monitor adventurers in case they fail to return so we can notify kin,” Charlie said, giving me enough of an answer.

  If the trains had magical guarding protections from the gods, then so did the city. At least all my memories weren’t faded and I was able to piece together things to build a stronger understanding of my new home.

  Charlie walked me through the tunnel and into the city of Langshire. A long “Oh,” was blurted when I saw all the farms, barns, and big fields for livestock were inside the walls.

  There were no massive steam machines operating the fields. I did see a few steambots performing chores, but they we
re minimal.

  The main city was another mile or two inside the wall line, largely dominating the interior horizon. This told me so much in an instant.

  Unless you were down on your luck, there was zero reason to leave a safe city in Gearnix. There was enough land here to feed thousands, if not tens of thousands. When you add trains, ships, and blimps to help you trade…

  Charlie pulled me from my observation by ringing a bell. “Trolley’s paid for by taxes. It’ll be here when you finish using the Gearnix Station you asked about.” The man thumbed a metallic box that two robots stood outside of.

  “Hey, Charlie, thanks for your time,” I said earnestly.

  He gave me an odd glance before leaving. I wondered if over politeness was considered rude. My attention shifted to watching the city.

  I saw steam and smoke billowing high into the sky. On the left side of the fields in the distance, big wheels turned on what was likely a river. Humans moved trees into a sawmill not far away. I tried to find the port and instead saw lots of tall buildings on the southern side of Langshire.

  The structures that made up the city on the horizon were metal and glass. Those two themes were repeated in a myriad of designs that ranged from boxy buildings to towers with jutting points. There were even a few taller buildings patched together with walkways.

  Decorating the exterior were gear themed signs that were the common colors of bronze, gold, silver, red, and black. Even from this distance I was wowed by the sight.

  A puff of steam caught my attention to reveal a trolley in the distance, slowly rolling on a separate set of tracks to pick me up.

  Just seeing the unique machines and steambots in the fields brought an excitement of what was to come. Knowing the trolley would be a few minutes I headed for the Gearnix Station, eager to learn how it operated.

  I approached the windowless shack with thick sturdy doors. These guards were as fearsome looking as they were ancient.

  They lurched into motion, fluidly opening creaking doors for me. Lights flickered on with an ugly yellow glow.

  I smelled stale air as I walked beyond the guardians that flaked dust off their immense metal skin.

  The interior was the size of a big bedroom. In the very center was a box diagram on the floor. Words I could read in a language I’d never seen before read. Step Here. There must be something in play helping me translate when I was reborn into this world.

  I stepped into the big box. My bag suddenly was lighter and before I could open it, a loud hiss of air blasted my face.

  Gears spun, gyros whirled, and the creak of unfolding metallic arms caught my attention. A humanoid shaped robot rose from the back of the room, walking for the square. The machine had goggled eyes, metal speakers for ears, and carried a tablet of sorts.

  “Welcome Adventurer Bradley of Ocarna. What can I do for you?”

  “Um, hi.”

  “Hello. Nervous, that is rare. What would you like to buy with your hydrox?” The talking machine pointed to the front left corner and then held out a hand. My hydrox was neatly stacked into cubes all of the same size.

  “It auto converts?” I asked, seeing more cubes than I expected.

  “Of course, these are the most commonly traded shapes. The cube. I can make triangles and marbles if you’d like to have exact amounts to trade,” the robot said.

  “Do you have a name?”

  There was a pause of calculation. “Gearnix.”

  “Uh, so Gearnix. I hit my head hard in a blimp crash. I’m about to go into the city. Are you allowed to give recommendations?”

  “Oh, one moment.” The robot paused. A slate rose from the floor to chest height. “Here is the orientation information.”

  This was a book. “Can I buy this?” I asked.

  “There is a small loan fee, then you simply return it when done to get your investment back.”

  I laughed. “Fair enough. I’ll take smaller trading amounts in separate cloth bags please. Oh, and can I get a sword with a saw on it?”

  “That is not how this works, but I can adjust for now. One moment.”

  The robot stepped to the side of the room. The pedestal area he had risen from suddenly fell into the ground with a whoosh. A new wave of stale air washed over me.

  Loud clanking was followed by a sound like someone turning a rusty wheel. Eventually, trays of boxes rose out of the floor. Each tray held a single part. Each part was small, allowing for hundreds of parts to be on display.

  I… my jaw dropped. “Are the screws and tools to assemble all this included? This is a single saw blade?” I asked.

  “No, and no. I… I need you to read your manual before purchasing. Sorry. I did at least give you an attempt. Our time is… valuable and I understand you have extraneous circumstances. I can recommend buying used to facilitate your needs. As to your request for smaller hydrox shapes, consider it done,” the robot said.

  My cubes vanished in a blast of light and a second later my bag had the straps pulling tight with weight. More weight than before. Interesting. I thanked him for his time and he ignored me.

  I was starting to get a feel that Gearnix was an abrupt, down to business kind of society. I exited the Gearnix Station and paused in the sunny day to unsling my pack. A quick rummaging and I found the guide book.

  I tucked the tome, because that is what the big boxy information holder was, under my arm. There was a bench seat I plopped into while I waited on the trolly.

  After getting into the first few pages I realized where I’d errored. The Gearnix Station was not a merchant. It was akin to a handyman store.

  The majority of the planet did not use the stations. Average folks shopped used and replaced specific parts for new if you couldn’t find it used.

  This made sense because a steambot didn’t rust into dust the same way a Chinese-built alarm clock would just die one day. Even if the functioning piece of the steambot failed, you went into the used shops.

  “Recycling is a good system,” I muttered thumbing the pages of the large book.

  If a merchant didn’t have what you needed, you then went and paid a premium to get the part brand new.

  If you wanted a full item brand new, simply inscribe a list of the items you wanted, ensure you had enough hydrox to cover the transaction and hand the requested paper to Gearnix the helper.

  An exact retrieval would return your parts with required tools and attachment pieces. The system worked this way because during the history of Gearnix there was once a time when the stations were overwhelmed with shoppers. Based on the stale air and dust on the old guards, that was not the case anymore.

  A second flip through revealed the vast majority of the book was parts numbers and diagrams for how to assemble items. The guide… it was thicker than my college texts from back in the day. Learning all this would be a lifetime of work.

  The soft ringing of a bell had me packing the book into my bag. A pretty redheaded woman waved from the driver’s seat as the hissing machine rolled to a stop.

  “Who’s you?” she asked with a scrunching of her freckled cheeks.

  I smiled, returning her wave. “I’m the new guy. Can I pay you to answer some questions for me?” I asked.

  She eyed me speculatively. So I inspected her.

  Her stomach was bound in a corset but her bust was covered by a shawl even though the day was hot. A cute set of goggles rested on her forehead atop her engineering hat. The faded outline told me the goggles were decorative. She had dual metallic hands and human feet in exposed heels.

  Behind her rested a big cushion for the driver’s seat. Without answering me she rang the bell, adjusted some levers, and the trolley started a slow roll to town. She lowered a string and a toot of steam belched out the top of the machine.

  I smirked, finding the entire process enthralling.

  “Ya wantin my job?” she asked with a glare.

  I shook my head. “I’m Bradley. A crash survivor who just made it in from the wilds.”

/>   “Ya talk funny. Look, it's a long ride. The trolley only gets H once a day. So if yer not wantin my job, then I’ll answer yer questions.” She rotated the driver’s seat to face me.

  “Excellent. I’ll need to buy weapons. Where do you recommend?”

  She eyed me like I had a booger out of my nose. I offered my name, she never offered hers, enforcing my guesstimation that Langshire functions without politeness.

  “How much ya got?” she asked.

  “In Ocarna we trade H and coins.” I guessed at the coin bit. “What do you trade here?”

  She smirked. “Better. If yer tellin folks how much ya got you’d be dead fairly quickly. We use ta standard. Mostly, silva and coppa coins. Have a mountain emblem on em. Raw H is norm sent ta da bank.”

  “Do a lot go out to harvest H?” I asked.

  “Huntas, we call em here. Ya might call em warriors or adventurers. Huntas. Two types. Three really. Solo for the town. Team for the town. Then der is those that do it emselves,” she said. Her hard shell of meanness seemed to be softening. I did feel her eyes lingering on my features with a slight blush.

  “I take it that working for the boss has perks but you earn less?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I didn’t want to mention H or coins to her again. I’d need a bank to see what value my current hydrox was worth. Killing a big gorilla beast probably was decent H.

  Hopefully enough, because I needed proper gear and a place to sleep.

  “I think yer pretty, ain’t gonna admit it to Mern if ya call me out. Try not ta talk so proper.”

  She wiggled a metal band on her wrist with a tiny speck of covered H in it.

  A marriage symbol? Probably.

  Neat, you could hold H in glass. Risky to do, but interesting to see. “Ya really wantin to be a Huntas?”

  “Ya,” I replied with a charming smirk.

  “Bellies Booms and Hoots. Good folk. Won’t try ta swindle ya too badly. Assumin ya need a place ta stay?” I nodded. “Do ya like the ladies?”

  “Do I ever! Just… not the marrying type.”

  She laughed so hard she snorted. “Da workin girls aren’t either. Marry’s place. Girls are pricier, same with the rooms, but they won’t rob ya and fun times aplenty.”