War God's Mantle_Ascension_A litRPG Adventure

by James Hunter

  “Sssoo, the man hasss come to kill our missstresss,” a Cecrops son hissed, raising its curved sword. “No wonder Ssstheno isss happy tonight. She will be dining on man flesshhh.”

  I raised my shield, but a brutal backhanded blow knocked it off my arm, sending it spinning off into the dark. Great. And my sword was as good as useless since my right arm was wrapped up by the naga tongue. Still, I bucked and fought, wriggling my arms and legs, steeling myself to use my Lightning Lance as a last resort—I had wanted to save that for the throw down with Stheno, but saving it wouldn’t do me any good if I was dead.

  But then, a heartbeat before I triggered the miracle, two javelins thudded into the naga snaring my legs. He shrieked, and his tail spun away, writhing in its death throes. Steele flashed as Myrina chopped the tongue off the remaining guard before whirling around, her blade carving through the naga’s neck in one clean blow. Damn, but she was good at killing things—better than any of those Force Recon guys by a mile.

  She helped me to my feet with a polite nod, then went about getting her weapons as I retrieved my spear and shield.

  We headed into the entry hall of the temple, which connected with a tunnel on the far side of the room. The way down was clear. And still, Stheno sang.

  Any idea where Asteria is? Myrina asked inside my head, her eyes narrowed to slits as she peered into the temple’s interior.

  She’s down in the lair below us, I replied. Her hit points are good, so she’s not hurt. I’m thinking she was scouting and kind of got distracted.

  Myrina’s voice turned sarcastic. Everything is points with you. As to Asteria, she was born to be distracted. Still, I’m glad she’s okay. She paused, head swiveling left then right. It is darker than the heart of the ocean here, we’ll need a light. Do you have any more oil—we can fashion torches, and since the sons of Cecrops are blind, it will make no difference.

  No oil, but I have something even better. I had an emergency headlamp in my rucksack as well as more flares and a flashlight. Working with practiced hands, I fixed the headlamp onto my helmet, then gave Myrina the flashlight. And not just any flashlight, a SureFire bright enough to light up a city block in Fallujah. She clicked the button at the end, and the white beam roared to life. Her eyebrows rose in shock, and she nodded in mute approval.

  I collected a bow and arrows from the floor and added them to my rucksack. Since I was pretty terrible fighting up close, a ranged weapon seemed like it might be handy to have around.

  We started down the steps, worn smooth with age and the countless passage of feet—well, snake tails, probably, but whatever. Moss hung from the ceilings and water dripped from cracks to form puddles on the stone stairs. A swampy smell hung in the air like bad BO. While it was hot outside, it was even hotter the farther down we went, which was odd since it should’ve been cooler below. And the whole while, Stheno’s song grew louder.

  Myrina and I both moved slowly, trying to keep our footsteps quiet. The stairs ended in a stone-lined passageway that sloped steadily downward, toward a vast natural cavern, with massive stalactites hanging from the ceiling like dragon’s teeth. We pressed forward, creeping along until we came to the end of the passageway. Suddenly, I knew why it was getting so hot. A river of lava flowed through the chasm, sending red light and heat up toward us.

  Now, I’m not a geologist, but something looked decidedly off about that magma flow.

  The molten rock had patches of darkness in it, and blue arcs of electricity buzzed unpredictably through the splotches of black.

  Holy crap. Was it possible I was seeing one of the rifts that Ares had failed to close? Was it possible that the onyx patches, crisscrossed with electric arcs, were an entrance to the underworld itself?

  That’s part of the rift, isn’t it, Myrina? I asked, needing to confirm my hunch.

  Yes, Jacob Merely, all over this island, deep down in the guts of this place, you’ll see such openings in our reality—offshoots of the main rift. This one belongs to Stheno, but there are countless others.

  The ghostly singing in front of us grew louder, echoing off the walls.

  We were getting close.

  FIFTEEN

  Boss Battle

  The passageway where we were standing connected to a stone bridge, fifty feet across, which arced gracefully over the deadly chasm, connecting to a grand archway, thirty feet tall, which led into an even grander hallway. It was clear that work was being done on the archway—just like at the entrance, the placard at the top had been redone. Stheno, it read. Unfortunately, getting across the bridge and into that hallway was going to be easier said than done.

  A dozen of the sons of Cecrops, all blinded with scar-tissue faces, stood guard on a wide ledge on the far side of the chasm. They had swords, bows, and enough arrows to put down a small army. On the bright side, Myrina and I had been walking so quietly the line of creatures hadn’t noticed our coming, so at the very least, we’d have the element of surprise. That had to count for something. Heck, if this really were a video game, we’d likely get a backstab multiplier—though I wasn’t going to bank on that.

  We stopped and listened to their echolocation chatter and the steady burble of the magma drifting up from below.

  Myrina’s voice whispered through my thoughts. We need to find a way past them, quickly and quietly. Suggestions?

  Wait a second, I replied, sticking up a finger. I checked my display and the maps, and I saw Asteria was in the cavern, near the arch. Looking up, I saw her, nearly invisible and tucked away in a tight crevice. She’d shifted into an enormous black widow spider, her many eyes gleaming red in the firelight. She must’ve sneaked by the three guards at the entrance, then stopped to wait for us.

  Clicking on her icon, I tried to message her, but it was unlikely she’d respond. If Myrina wasn’t so sharp when it came to technology, Asteria would be a complete disaster.

  Asteria is a spider, I told Myrina, nodding toward the fissure in the rock face. I’m trying to message her, but she’s not responding. Dammit, I should’ve created the links before we found ourselves in combat. My bad.

  It certainly isn’t your good, Myrina snipped. She started taking off her armor, first her breastplate, then the skirt, and then her sandals.

  I turned to the side so I wouldn’t be tempted to gawk. Uh, what’re you doing?

  Our foes are blind, not deaf. I must move in absolute silence if I am to sneak past them and kill them one by one. My gear will only hamper movement and make noise.

  Maybe at a distance that will work, I shot back, but not when you get closer.

  Do you think me incapable of moving silently? She glowered at me, one hand on a very bare hip.

  No. Nope. Not what I’m saying. I looked away, totally frazzled. What I’m saying is once you get close enough, they’ll be able to detect you. Those noises they are making are echolocation, like bats. You might be silent, but when the sound waves hit you, they’ll know you are there.

  Myrina slung her quiver of javelins over her shoulder. Again, your words are foolish babbling. If they can see me when I get close, which I doubt, I will then fight them. Should it come to that, you can stay back and use your bow. Once we engage, I have no doubt Asteria will join the fight.

  Yep, that was a stupid plan, but before I could stop her, she crept silently across the floor on the pads of her feet, completely naked, with only her sword in her left hand and a javelin in her right.

  Quietly, I put my shield and sword on the floor and got the bow and arrows ready. This was going to be interesting. I hadn’t fired a bow since PE class in the eighth grade. I had been a pretty good shot, but dude, that was a long time ago. I slipped an arrow into place with hesitant fingers, then pulled the string taut as Myrina drew close to the blind nagas. Thankfully, I was far enough away that they didn’t hear the creak of the wood.

  Myrina was ten feet out when a wrist-thick strand of gossamer silk dropped down, courtesy of Asteria, snagging one of the nagas in the sticky webbing. I
t started to chatter in panic, and most of the other sons of Cecrops slithered around to help him, though a few simply lingered. Waiting. And that’s when Myrina acted. She bounded forward on silent feet, hurling a javelin with enough force to penetrate a brick wall. She was a deadly shot, and the weapon slammed into a guardsman, piercing him through the throat. I fired my arrow and struck another one in the chest.

  I blinked. I hadn’t missed. Right on.

  A second of the snake men got snared in the webs, then a third. As they fought to free themselves—lashing out with swords and tongues and tails—Asteria dropped down, a black widow the size of a Clydesdale. Her fangs sank into first one snake man then another. Their hisses and chattering grew more frenetic. But the other guards were too busy dealing with Myrina and me to pay them any attention.

  The Warden hurled two more javelins at range, then danced forward, engaging them with her sword. I moved steadily forward, nocking another arrow and picking my targets carefully. The last thing I needed was to try a risky shot and accidentally hit Myrina—I’d never live that down. Asteria lost a leg to a sword, and another of the Cecrops sons stabbed her through the abdomen. She was going to need to be healed eventually. In my combat display, I glanced at my Essence Points. Back up to twenty-one—one Healing and one Lightning Lance.

  I fired another arrow, sinking a shaft into a scarred-over eye socket, and the naga dropped, dead before it hit the floor. That was my best shot of the fight but was probably due more to luck than skill. We continued to fight on for a handful of minutes, but at this point, we were just mopping up the leftovers. Our sneak attack had been surprisingly efficient. As Myrina hacked off the head of the final guard, I made my way over to Asteria.

  The poor shape-shifter lay curled up around her wounds, making strange mewling spider noises. Me? I wasn’t a big fan of spiders, not a bit, but knowing the horse-sized black widow was a friend helped a little.

  I used eleven Essence Points to heal Asteria, and in seconds, she was up on her human feet, smiling. “Thank you, Jacob Merely. I do apologize for rushing ahead, but I certainly was curious about this lair. Did you notice the rift below? Did you know I was here? Ares always knew where his Amazons were and what they were doing.” She paused, running a hand through her pixie-cut hair. “Did you try and speak to my mind?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, that was me. Saw the rift. Don’t have all of Ares’ power yet, but I could find you.” I chuckled and let her hug me, however naked. Myrina had gone back to dress and get her stuff.

  I stepped away from Asteria and looked her in the eye, keeping my gaze from drifting down by sheer force of will. “Let’s try it again so we can talk while we fight.”

  I sent her a message, and she looked at me in wonder. “That is you in my mind? Yes, I remember. Ares would take control of us. Yes, I am ready for you to move me.”

  “Uh, not sure that’s ever going to happen,” I replied. “I don’t have the power, and Myrina didn’t like the idea of me taking over your bodies. So, for now, let’s just chat. Accept my message.”

  Asteria blinked, then grinned, and her voice suddenly sprang into my consciousness going a mile a minute. Oh, Jacob, yes, I am kind of hungry, and I liked being a spider, but I was really thirsty, you don’t mind if I get a little drink, do you? The blood of the nagas smells so delicious. Just a little. One moment.

  Before I could even think to stop her, she was a spider again, wrapping up a dead snake man in webbing, then sinking her gnarly fangs into the coiled snake tail. Her eight legs held the creature while she drained the blood from his body—and maybe not just his blood. The naga seemed to deflate as she drank, withering away before me until it was little more than a desiccated husk.

  The sight of that made me queasy, especially since she moved on to drink up another of the snake men.

  Her voice came through as she ate, just a clipped series of words bouncing around in my head. So good. The blood still warm. So good, the blood of these things, in my belly, nourishing my belly, so good, the blood, so good, the blood.

  Now I knew what a spider sounded like. Yay. Lucky me. While Asteria got all black widowy and Myrina dressed, I stepped through the threshold of the archway. A wide antechamber lay on the other side, which led to a set of stairs, leading down, deeper into the earth. We followed those stairs, which, in turn, connected to a central chamber where lava pooled and burbled, giving the place a hellishly red light. Ornately carved bridges danced over the lava, and there were dozens of nooks, gazebos, and terraces all about the room.

  It was like a maze.

  And statues littered the place: snake men, harpies, Amazon warriors, even a huge cyclops standing on two bridges. Fifty feet tall, the cyclops dominated the room and nearly touched the ceiling. I couldn’t imagine fighting something so strong and so enormous. I could only hope all of the cyclopes would be as asleep as Hades. Seeing those freaks just confirmed how badly I needed to close these rifts. Creatures like those needed to remain in mythology and not become a world-destroying reality.

  Asteria, Myrina, and I were silent for a time, simply surveying the terrible lair. Although it was impossible to say for certain, it seemed like we had killed most, if not all, of Stheno’s guards and sycophants. All that was left now was the Boss Gorgon herself.

  Before moving on, I handed Myrina my shield since she’d busted hers to hell during our fight with the nagas topside. She stared at me, uncertainty in her face. “If any one of us has a chance of getting to her, it’s you,” I said, answering her unspoken question. “I’ll back you up. But remember, we can’t look at her.”

  “And if she cannot be killed by such ordinary means?” Myrina asked, taking the shield.

  “I’m hoping she’s not bulletproof,” I said. Then I remembered how the harpies had shaken off my bullets. It didn’t help my confidence.

  “You are correct, Jacob Merely,” Asteria said. “We cannot look upon her, but we must find her. I believe I can aid us, but not in my present form.”

  Asteria took a step and jumped into the air. Her body froze for a second, liquified, and swirled into the shape of a vampire bat the size of an English mastiff. She spun away from us, dodging columns, swooping near bridges, and then landing on top of the cyclops statue.

  She is in the pavilion, Asteria told us. We were in full combat mode, so we could all hear what each other was thinking.

  She sings about our doom, Myrina informed me absently. We killed her guards, but not all of them, and they are waiting in the shadows of this hall to strike. Her song is one of sadness—she also tells the tale of how she was cruelly turned into a monster, but now she says that her heart is rotted and evil from centuries of sorrow. It is time we put this poor creature out of her misery. I will go to the right. You go to the left.

  There were two central walkways over the rivers of molten rock, and as Myrina suggested, she took the right while I took the left.

  Slowly, we stalked down the marble floor toward the pavilion.

  Asteria took to the air again, running recon as she glided along on silent wings. Stheno has more warriors, she sent. They wait in the shadows with bows and arrows. They are unmoving. I don’t think we should tarry, for we are outnumbered.

  Myrina chimed in. We are always outnumbered. Which makes our victories all the sweeter.

  How should we take out the nagas? I asked.

  A second later, Asteria gave me the answer. Using the five-fingered claws on her feet, she tore a snake man from an alcove and smashed him against a column. She then went back to do the same to the next snake man she found.

  Immediately, the singing ended.

  A hideous voice rang out in its place. And in seconds, a barrage of arrows filled the air like mosquitoes on a hot summer night. One struck my arm, drawing blood, as another skittered off my armor.

  With no time to waste, Myrina and I dashed toward the pavilion, weapons drawn and ready. We got to the statue of the cyclops, then we faltered, as blind nagas slithered toward us on fat ser
pentine tails.

  Myrina spun and used her javelins to take down the first few, slashing necks and lopping off limbs with ease. Using my bow, I emptied my quiver, firing into the fray, before likewise switching over to my sword. And all the while, Asteria was death from above. She dropped down out of nowhere, rent flesh with her talons, then disappeared as quickly as she’d come.

  While Myrina and Asteria engaged the guards, I circled around the cyclops to peer into the pavilion. It was a plush place with red-cushioned divans, candles, and incense burning. But all around were the torn bodies of half-eaten snake men. It seemed Stheno enjoyed their flesh as much as Asteria had enjoyed their blood.

  A flash of movement caught my eye. A woman, twelve feet tall. The lady was pure nightmare fuel. Her head was topped with an ocean of swaying snakes—cobras, rattlers, black mambas—her flesh was scaly copper-colored snakeskin, and instead of hands, she had a pair of giant bronze meat hooks at the end of each wrist. What. The. Fuck. Then, before I was tempted to look more, I pressed my eyes shut, pulled out my M1911, and fired into her chest. I held my breath, then sighed in defeat as I heard the bullet ricochet harmlessly away.

  Shit. That was awfully disappointing. So much for modern weaponry being my ace in the hole. And if her skin could stop a bullet, what chance did our iron weapons have?

  I cracked my eyes, then froze in terror—

  I was staring her right in the face.

  Her eyes were like two black holes sunk deep into the creases of her face: those eyes utterly devoid of life or light, looking only to destroy. She grinned at me, her maw opening wide, and twelve forked tongues fell free, lazily tasting the air. In a flash she shot those tongues across the room, enveloping me, drawing me toward her—ready to eviscerate me with her meat-hook hands.

  But how come I wasn’t stone already?