Heroes of Darkness: A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG Omnibus Collection

by Wolfe Locke

  He grinned, half-drunk on the rush of power. He felt better than he had since before the battle with the scorpions.

  Notification: Abilities Gained

  Storm of Swords – Creates a targeted volley of icicles. Can be area of effect or target

  Ice Blades – Surrounds a target with blades of ice for protection.

  The trappings of power vanished and Tetraites looked down at the counter, coming back to reality. The scrolls had vanished and the minotaur was no where to be seem. How much time just passed?

  “Don’t worry,” Crixa said as he escorted him and his new wares back to his cell. “The minotaur made sure I watched over you when you became enraptured by the upgrades. Heed this warning Tetraites, do not drink the strengthening potions until after Deathbringer has had the change to recharge your magical power.”

  Crixa looked at him with its monstrous eyes, appendages waving furiously. “If you get an upgrade on your capacity without a full reserve, things could go very wrong.”

  Tetraites did not fully understand the reasoning behind this, but he had long since accepted that magic worked differently in the Great Empty than it had on earth when he had been a Necromancer. He followed the rules he was given.

  Crixa left him behind, and Tetraites reached out to his golem of flesh Vilerend to check out its progress. He smiled as a sensation of satisfied hunger was replayed to him.

  Chapter 13: Reunited

  When he walked into the Champions’ Mess that night, his cohort looked as shocked to see him. Each of them having assumed the skeleton had been sent back to void that was the Well of Souls. All conversation stopped. The revenant Yarrl smiled, the leathery flesh around its mouth cracking.

  “We thought you were dead, Tetraites.” Colubra said as a spider-monster brought him a glass of blood.

  “I am dead, we all are, though some of us are more dead than others” Tetraites said. “Technically.”

  The gorgon narrowed her eyes. “Is that a joke?”

  Tetraites shrugged and took a sip of his blood. Delicious as ever. Something had changed, instead of the blood dripping on his bones or falling to the ground, it disappeared entirely.

  “It was a poor one, our master destroyed the manticore.” Colubra said, testily biting the head off a beetle.

  “Why did they not tell us you were still alive?” Deathbringer said. “We’d assumed our numbers had effectively been halved after that last battle.”

  Tetraites shrugged again. “I do not know.” How was he expected to have the answer? “Maybe they did not know if I had survived. We are the first of their monsters after all.”

  They ate in silence for a while. Colubra crunched her insects loudly. Each of their thoughts dark.

  “Deathbringer,” Tetraites said finally. “You fought bravely in the Arena. Crixa told me that your ability to restore magic was paramount. It is a victory. You have proven extremely useful.”

  The centaur winced and shifted uncomfortably. “Hardly a victory.”

  “Why do you hate your given name so much?” Colubra asked. “It is no worse than mine and far different from the name I would have preferred if I had been given the opportunity to chose for myself.”

  “The Dark Lord gave you a new name,” Deathbringer said. “Mine was taken from my old life. He has allowed you to start over, but I am not able to do so. Every time I hear my name it is a reminder of the life I led and that all that I was and every achievement I ever made has been ground to dust. That now I am nothing but a slave, and cannot even find solace in that.”

  Tetraites stood up. “Zekant gave you that name to humiliate you,” he said, “but you do not have to use it. You fought just as well as any of us. Should you choose a new name, I would honor it and call you by such.”

  He looked around. Everyone at the table was staring at him. He finished his glass of blood in one swallow and stalked off back to his cell ignoring the stares of the newer champions that had been created and the hostile glare of Yarrl.

  That night, Deathbringer showed up at the cell of his door. Unlike Crixa, the centaur knocked first.

  “I have been ordered to help restore your magic to where it needs to be” he said, ducking his head so he could fit through the doorway.

  Tetraites nodded. “Crixa told me. I’ve been expecting you.”

  He waited for the centaur to start working his healing magic, but instead the centaur was still standing in the middle of the room awkwardly looking around as if struggling to find his voice.

  “Thank you for saying what you did in the Mess Hall.” Deathbringer said finally. “You are right. I will choose a new name for myself.”

  “The Dark Lord controls almost all we do here,” Tetraites said. “But he does not have to control everything. The small victories add up.” But do they my minion? Do you even know what aims I have for you?

  Tetraites ignored the intrusion into his thoughts. The centaur smiled. “Well said. It has been awhile since I’ve had a real conversation.”

  “I have a new broadsword,” Tetraites said, changing the subject. “The minotaur claims I need two hands to wield it unless I’m stronger. Can you help me so I can use it one handed?”

  “Yes,” the centaur said thoughtfully. “I think I can. I’ve an ability that will help boost your strength permanently. That should do it, but I must prepare first.”

  Tetraites felt uneasy after Deathbringer finally left. He had never intended to start befriending the other Champions. Comrades were a weakness he could not afford, leverage to be used against him. Something he had learned first hand when he’d used the same tactics against others when he was still alive.

  What if the Dark Lord found a way to exploit it in some way? What if he forced them all to fight each other? It was no use getting too close to the others. Many of them were likely to die here anyways. Except for the revenant. I don’t think I want to kill any of them.

  The thoughts were troubling, and he shoved them out of his mind. He had work to do.

  Tetraites shoved his bed against his cell door and made sure the lock clicked shut. Before sitting down on the floor. He reached out, summoning forth the potions from within his spatial ring. One by one, he drank the upgrade potions the minotaur had given him, smiling as he felt his strength growing. Tomorrow’s training session would allow him to test his new abilities.

  Tetraites tried to spend the rest of the night working with his ice magic as the upgrade potions did their work. With some effort, he kept his mind empty. It was better that way. The magic of of the upgrade potions had an effect on his skeletal form that Tetraites did his best to ignore.

  Chapter 14: The Hero’s Soul

  When the process was finished, Tetraites found that he had changed slightly. His bones seemed a little darker, stronger even. Within his ribcage, Tetraites could see, though it was faint, a swirling vortex of eldritch power.

  On his right arm, he could see red flesh where newly formed tendons connected the bone. He flexed his hand, but didn’t feel any different, not yet, though it did give him an idea.

  Tetraites reached out with the portion of necromantic power he had been able to recover so far. Looking in the dark spaces and recesses of his cell. Tetraites called to him the flesh he had animated and hid, leaving Vilerend alone to continue the task he had given to it.

  Tetraites held down his arm with the newly grown tissue and willed blackened flesh in the room into his arm to fill the spaces. He couldn’t assimilate it, but he could carry it on him as an unexpected trump card if need be, and no one would ever know in advance.

  The skeleton smiled as it looked down at the bony arm with pieces of flesh seemingly lashed on to it. That’ll do. I have the perfect use for these. I’ll call it the Flestrik.

  Crixa summoned him early for drills, and as he left his cell, the information about the change greeted him.

  Spectral Arena

  Name – Tetraites the Conqueror

  Specialty – Frost Magic

  Race �
�� Greater Skeleton

  Current Unlocked Abilities

  Frost Nova (On Touch) – Unleashes an explosion of ice.

  Frost Nova (Targeted) – Unleashes an explosion of ice at the impact site that causes area of effect damage around it.

  Ice Wall (Targeted) – Creates at target location a wall of ice that is resistant to damage. Ice wall cannot be passed through, it must be destroyed.

  Storm of Swords – Creates a targeted volley of icicles. Can be area of effect or target

  Ice Blades – Surrounds a target with blades of ice for protection.

  Shard Storm – Summons blades of ice to rain down in a area of effect. These shards are twice as sharp as the users weapon. Shard Storm continues casting until interrupted, or the caster depletes their magic source. Caster will be rendered incapacitated until their magic has completely recovered.

  Current Passive Abilities

  Vampiric Aspect II – Bloodlust – Cannot retreat when an opponent has been bloodied. Receives a boost to strength and durability.

  Sustenance - Receive a minor healing buff when consuming blood.

  Flesh Crafting - A lesser-known school of Necromancy, Flesh Crafting allows for the creation of flesh golems and other constructs.

  Strength

  19

  Magic

  21

  Stamina

  55

  Speed

  17

  I got stronger, in some ways a lot stronger, but whats this? Greater Skeleton? Is it because I hit a stat threshold? Or because of the potions? Tetraites guessed it was likely a combination of the two, he was interested to see how the changes would effect him in battle.

  The skeleton followed behind Crixa. The monster seemed in an uncommonly foul mood, but all it would say was “Something has been killing the master’s spiders.”

  Tetraites had his guesses, but kept those to himself, sending a mental note of appreciation for a job well done to Vilerend. Soon, he entered the Mess Hall and as had somehow become a usual thing, he was the last of the Champions to arrive. The others were already armed and ready at the Training Grounds waiting for him.

  “I have decided on my new name,” the centaur said when he showed up, leaning in with a whisper. “Deathbringer is dead and no more. I will now be Selesius.”

  Tetraites nodded as he fastened the straps of his new armor tighter around him. The centaur’s action was a strike against the Dark Lord’s total control of their lives. As such, it got his approval.

  They quickly got to work. Crixa’s new set of drills was harder than the sequence they’d done the previous week and required all their attention to get into it. Tetraites was pleased with his new strength and speed—Crixa had given him a wooden broadsword to practice with that was the same weight as his real one. Between the potions from the Armory and the centaur’s magic upgrade, he was easily able to wield it one handed. So much for the minotaur’s warning.

  After some time, when the training had started with earnest, Yarrl the revenant had not returned to join them. No one but Tetraites seemed at all concerned or surprised about it. It had been reassigned to a different group of Champions (a werewolf, a sphinx, a man with a ram’s head) and was currently drilling with them across the Training Grounds.

  Several times Tetraites caught it staring at him, grinning. It was not lost on Tetraites that Yarrl had gotten strong as well, the revenant seemed to have filled out and the flesh was not quite as leathery as it had been.

  “Let it go,” Colubra said when he brought it up. “No one liked Yarrl. He’s someone else’s problem now. Embrace your good fortune. That monster would have just as soon killed at the first chance.”

  But the whole series of events unsettled him. Something else is going on, why separate us like that? Unless… Does Zekant mean for us to fight each other?

  Magic practice that day was exhilarating as the increase in his base magic ability had brought him to a new level. His new spells were impressive, although they required a substantial amount of power to control that he was struggling with, even with his recent advancement.

  Tetraites found himself trying to control how long he could use Storm of Swords, thinking if he could use it for a one off rather than ongoing it would benefit him more in battle and keep him on his feet.

  When the Training Grounds fell quiet around him. He looked up. The revenant was walking toward him with a purposeful stride. This time, it wasn’t smiling and Yarrl had an aura of violence that Tetraites recognized only too well.

  “What do you want?” Tetraites said, irritated and ready to defend himself if the revenant should attack..

  “You and me, in the practice arena,” Yarrl said, the monster’s eyes yellowed with hate. “Now or I can kill you here where you stand.”

  Tetraites looked for Crixa, but he was nowhere to be found. “It’s not time yet. You know we do one on one fighting in the afternoon and no duels between each other without Zekant’s sanction.”

  “I don’t care. It’s time,” the revenant rasped as its arms began shake. “It’s been time. It’s been a long time coming. Long have I dreamt of this.”

  Tetraites narrowed his eyes as his hand curled around his blade ready to attack. “What are you going on about? Say what you mean or piss off.”

  “Don’t you remember me?” Yarrl said a wide grin expanding over it’s face, showing off the broken teeth in its mouth. “That hurts, Tetraites. I would have thought I stood out more in your memory. We’ve known each other so well before.”

  Something about the way the revenant tilted its head was very familiar. Something in the way it held its sword. Do we know each other from back then?

  “Tetraites,” Yarrl scoffed. “How different your name is now. You looked very different before. A mass of flesh, fat clutching your throat as you begged for life…Xanthus the Necromancer.”

  With growing horror, Tetraites realized who he was talking to or at least had a good guess. “Pyke Wildwood.”

  Chapter 15: The Duel

  The revenant laughed. A cruel laugh without an mirth behind it. “Finally you recognize me. It took you long enough. You pretend to be a Champion, but I’ve met the real you.”

  “You’re right, but things will be different this time.” Tetraites said, grabbing his the broadsword in his hand. “We are long over due for a rematch and the Arena you seem so keen on dying within is free .”

  I might be able to take him, but where is Crixa? This can’t be the right thing to do. In fact, no spider-monsters were to be seen anywhere. Maybe Crixa’s absence is all the answer I need about this situation. What of the others who watch in Crixa’s stead? Tetraites turned and looked but found no one but two groups of Champions.

  The revenant saw Tetraites looking around for them and smirked. “My allies have taken care of them for now. We have time before they return. You and I will not be interrupted.”

  Allies? Everyone hated Yarrl. Well, not everyone. The werewolf from the revenant’s new cohort howled smugly, and the sphinx crossed her lion’s paws with a look of triumph on her face. Perhaps the loathing that Tetraites and his group of Champions felt for the revenant wasn’t universal. It almost seemed like the revenant was liked.

  “What did you do to them?” Tetraites asked, anger rising up within him.

  “Don’t worry about them, worry about yourself.” Yarrl said. “They’re all right. You’ll see them all again all you need to do is survive our fight.”

  “Thought this was a practice bout?” Tetraites responded, his bony hand gripped tightly around his weapon.

  “Oh really, Tetraites. That kind of thinking is what got you killed in the first place. Pyke Wildwood plays for keeps.” The revenant responded with a snarl

  Tetraites wanted to punch the revenant t’s smug face, but took satisfaction in the fact that the Dark Lord had changed Wildwood from a handsome hero into this rotting sack of flesh. I wonder if the Dark Lord hates heroes just as much as I do. There was justice in that. And Tetraites
would get further justice shortly.

  “Tetraites,” Colubra said, her snake hair standing on end. “This isn’t a good idea.”

  “It feels like a trap,” The Centaur agreed.

  Tetraites ignored them, irritated. They were wasting their breath. How could they possibly understand the hatred he felt for Pyke Wildwood, the humiliation that had burned in him as the mercenary’s sword pierced his throat?

  The Necromancer he had been demanded vengeance. Tetraites and the revenant t climbed into the Practice Arena, each holding their swords in hand. With open contempt, Tetraites noted Yarrl’s shuffling, dragging fighting stance.

  Such a comedown from Wildwood’s famed swordplay. The other Champions gathered around the Arena, banging their practice swords on the low walls separating them from the battle. They were eager for an illicit fight. Colubra and Selesius had shoved their way close to the front, pressing against the barrier that separated them from the fighters. A barrier that sealed magic within the arena.

  Notification: Sealed Arena!

  The Arena has been sealed. No allied minions or champions may enter. Additionally, all activated magic abilities are currently being nullified and cannot be cast.