Unfortunately, the asking price was 4000 crowns.
“Is that your own halberd?” Nick asked, glad he could talk in this screen.
“Ah, the halberd,” the Knight croaked. “Aye, that’s been with me through countless battles. No one asks about it. Knights fall in love with shiny blades and Paladins are obsessed with bludgeoning weapons. You, boy, are a connoisseur. Give me what you have and the halberd is yours. Treat her well. It’s a rare weapon.”
Nick was sold. He transferred the crowns before he could change his mind. He considered it an investment in the future. If he was lucky enough to make it to the next episode, he would have something to work towards. He couldn’t wait to see how the halberd worked. If the next episode was in the wide open deserts of Bariz, as he suspected, the Halberd of the Moon might just be the best purchase he’d ever made.
Besides, he was emotionally drawn to the weapon somehow. He couldn’t explain it, and he never purchased on emotion alone, but the halberd just seemed like a promise. A promise of what he couldn’t say, but it stirred something in him nonetheless.
It was time to move on. He bade goodbye to the cursed Knight and continued down the fetid passage. There wasn’t much time left - less than an hour of in-game time. This was going to be a close-run thing.
He forged ahead, shield and mace poised. He was familiar with maces and knew them to be good weapons in cramped confines. They tended to work best over the shoulder, removing the potential for embarrassing snags on the rock wall. That was the quickest way to ruin a good weapon.
The air grew humid and thick. Nick felt like gagging in his plate armor. He’d never vomited in armor before but he couldn’t imagine it being a pleasant experience. There was more light ahead and he stopped short - the tunnel ended abruptly in an enormous central cavern. He could see grotesque insectoids hovering in the air.
He crept forward and peered through the tunnel entrance. The cavern was simply huge, rising hundreds of feet. Nick could make out dark shapes flitting near the top. From the outside, the structure would’ve looked like a gigantic termite mound. It was a foul, depressing place and Nick needed to call on every ounce of willpower to stay his course.
A spiraling path wound its way up the inner wall, eventually reaching the top. Taking a deep breath, he started on his way, weapons poised. Curious insectoids cruised by. Though they shredded his nerves into mince meat, he was allowed to proceed unhindered. That was a bad sign, any role player knew it.
Mindful of the timer and desperate to be free of this poisonous place, Nick kept walking. He was panting slightly when he neared the top of the path. The shapes he’d seen earlier were actually giant, hideously ugly bats. They were hanging under the ceiling, an inverted black forest of horror.
The ceiling wasn’t a ceiling at all but a marble platform. Nick emerged into the Mound’s uppermost chamber and gazed up at the real ceiling. He could see stars through a hole at the apex. It was a tantalizing glimpse of the wider world.
Perhaps it was a cruel glimpse, because the very walls of this chamber were prisons. There were people trapped in the walls, held in thrall by a stinking, gelatinous membrane. Nick stepped across a hard surface inscribed with alien symbols, unable to take his eyes off The Spiderling’s prisoners.
Most were NPCs, but Nick froze when he saw a name tag above a tall, burly Barbarian carrying a great club. His name was KainDestroyer18.
“Get me out of here,” he rasped, reaching out to Nick in vain. “Get me out of here and I promise a fair fight.”
Nick’s hammering heart felt like it was going to crash and burn. Here he was, with KainDestroyer18 at his mercy. A pixel runner so mindlessly belligerent he thought he could make demands from his hopeless position.
“You know what you can do, Kain?” Nick asked, feeling his broiling anger rise. “You can get fucked.”
And with that, he swung his mace at Kain’s head. A gloved hand appeared from nowhere and caught the barbed iron as if it were a toothpick.
“Violence?” said the newcomer in a soft, syrupy voice. “There will be no violence in here.”
It was The Spiderling. Nick’s blood ran cold as he turned to face the boss who’d made a point of scooping out the most private places of his mind.
The Spiderling was neither tall or short. He was mostly humanoid, with a thin, wiry body and fine features. What set him apart, and made Nick want to retch, was the gaping wound in his chest. Nick could see beyond his grey ribcage, where thousands of tiny spiders swarmed furiously. Were they controlling the body? Were those horrible little spiders a villainous hive mind that kept Duskstar Forest in a perpetual state of misery? Nick appraised the grotesque figure, wondering how a duel would play out.
If stopping that mace was any indication, The Spiderling clearly had strength, though that might have been magically enhanced. He hadn’t revealed a weapon of any kind. Instead he stood calmly with a look of polite curiosity.
“I must say, Nick, it will be a singular pleasure to store you in my cercarium. I look forward to seeing how you emerge from the … oven.”
The Spiderling chuckled softly. Nick considered the folk in the foul-smelling walls. Some showed signs of metamorphosis, their bodies slowly becoming the lumpy insectoids he’d seen below.
Nick thought of the cursed Knight of the Moon in the lower tunnel. Is this what The Spiderling had in store for him? An unending nightmare of putrefaction?
A cold fear gripped his heart. What if the Neutron Syndicate was complicit in this? What if they left him rotting in the Immersion Tank to fit this story line? Who would complain? Who would care? It seemed that Neutron knew everything about his life, so they’d know that no one outside of his father would notice his disappearance. And his father was …
Nick assumed an aggressive stance.
“Less talk, more fight,” was all he said.
“Like I said, there will be no violence in here,” The Spiderling insisted.
He raised an elegant, bloodless hand and Nick found himself hurtling across the marble floor and into the gel membrane. The muck accepted him gratefully, oozing into his pores. Only his hands, face and the tip of his right boot were left protruding from the foul substance. The Spiderling stood back and admired his handiwork with a smirk.
“Why panic?” he asked. “I’ll have plenty of work for you when you’ve been Altered. You belong here, Nick. There’s nothing for you on the outside. Your father is dead. The Stanners line is done. Most importantly, you are weak. I am strong. Nature demands that you be exploited.”
The Spiderling’s words cut out Nick’s heart and stomped on it. Was this exchange being recorded? Were people actually watching this evil thing rip open what remained of his personal life?
“Let it go, Stanners, he’s got you cold,” Kain sneered.
The Spiderling chuckled again.
“How delightful,” he said. “You, Mr. Rogers, will make a very effective minion. I will return later to see how you’re both doing. But let’s not rush this - the process takes decades, after all.”
The Spiderling extended his right arm and muttered an incantation. A brazier of purple flame rose through the center of the marble platform, crackling fiercely. He allowed himself to be claimed by the hungry tongues of flame and vanished in a shower of embers. The brazier now contained a more conventional, ruby-colored flame.
Nick struggled against the disgusting membrane that held him, but it was no use. He was stuck fast. The rancid gel had a permanency about it, a finality that sent his soul spiraling into despair. He shook his thoughts clear and tried to focus on the problem at hand.
His task was made increasingly difficult when Kain began launching a stream of obscenities at him. The irritating runner’s voice grew so tiresome that Nick snapped.
“Why?” he bellowed. “What have I ever done to you?”
“Really?” Kain asked, incredulous. “Do I need a fucking reason? This isn’t a creche, FuckAss.”
Nick gazed across at the
tall runner. He was wearing a fearsome suit of spiked armor and that great club looked like it could flatten him in seconds. Worse, he was three levels above Nick.
But Nick didn’t quite understand. Why was Kain’s anger so intense, so bitter? A vague memory called for attention. A minor celebrity, six, maybe seven years ago. Luke Rogers was his name. It matched the surname The Spiderling had used.
From memory, there was some kind of controversy and Rogers fell rapidly through the ranks of pixel runners, a figure of ridicule. Did his animosity toward Nick have something to do with that most insidious of negative motivations - envy? Did Kain see something of himself in Nick’s emergence as a Barbarian STR build?
There was not time to reflect on it. The longer Nick remained trapped in the membrane, the less chance he had of escaping. He could already feel his willpower seeping from him. But how could he escape?
Ignoring Kain, Nick focused on his surroundings. There was nothing on the marble platform except for the brazier that seemed to allow travel around The Spiderling’s gloomy domain. Could that fire be used somehow? Were these walls flammable? There seemed to be no way of finding out.
One thing he could do was access his inventory screen. He equipped IceBringer, knowing it had the ability to draw fire from its source. Holding the sword aloft, he waited patiently.
“You serious, Stanners?” Kain snarled. “You’re such a fucking loser. I can’t wait to kill you.”
Kain was really unhinged. He was distilling all his bitterness into a single vessel. That vessel was Nick.
Though it seemed futile, and his resolve continued to waver, Nick kept his greatsword raised high. Was that flicker of flame leaning in his direction or was it a trick of the light? No, there’s another one. And another.
The brazier’s flame snaked its way across the platform, helpless to resist the greatsword’s pull. Even Kain fell silent as the flame reluctantly mounted the blade. Nick waited until it had covered the blade before swinging the sword backwards over his head. The fire splashed across the membrane and spread quickly.
Though he was incredibly hot inside his armor, Nick felt the membrane loosening. He waited with bated breath until he was finally able to break free. The NPCs in the wall were being burned to a crisp. Nick didn’t have time to consider their collective fate, instead marching over to Kain with the intent to kill. He couldn’t afford to have a maniac on his tail.
This time he swung his greatsword in a power arc. Surely this was finally the end of KainDestroyer18 …
It wasn’t. The bastard had activated some kind of rune or scroll that temporarily turned his armor into impenetrable stone. Worse, IceBringer shattered on impact, sending a thousand fragments twinkling to the marble. All that was left was a forlorn hilt and thin trails of ice blue light.
Nick gaped at what remained of his weapon, crestfallen. By this stage the fire had reached Kain, but his heavy armor protected him. Nick watched in horror as the Barbarian broke free from the wall and rushed straight for him.
He was wholly unprepared for the great club that came crashing down over Kain’s powerful right shoulder. It struck him flush in the chest, sending him sprawling across the marble to collide against the brazier. More than half his HP was gone.
“You’re a fucking impostor,” Kain sneered. “This is where I launch my comeback.”
With that, he raised his club and closed in for the kill.
Nick don’t know how he did it, but he quick-slotted both of his maces. He crossed them defensively as the club thundered down. The barbed iron saved his life, deflecting Kain’s blow in a perfectly timed parry. Nick had no idea dual maces could do that. Kain took a step back, stunned, but Nick couldn’t consolidate his attack due to low stamina. The pair circled each other as their orange bars replenished.
A good portion of the chamber was now engulfed in roaring flame. Kain came at him, relentless. Nick stepped back and narrowly avoided a thudding blow that cracked the marble. He’d never really dual-wielded before - it went against everything he believed in.
Not being able to raise a shield in the left slot made him feel naked. Then again, he was wearing decent heavy armor and needed to trust in his weapons. The maces were light and maneuverable. They were probably better suited to weakening Kain’s impressive armor than a bladed weapon.
Most importantly, Nick couldn’t play the attrition game without a shield. He couldn’t play the dodging game with heavy armor. He needed to attack. Abandoning his fears, he advanced, staggering his mace attacks.
Kain was able to block the first with his club, but not the second. Nick’s mace caught him in the chestplate and he was pushed back for the loss of some HP. An encouraging start, but he needed to do more. Kain’s strength was his sheer power. His weakness was his lack of speed. Nick needed to use that to his advantage.
He pushed forward aggressively, looking to draw an attack. He saw Kain raise his elbow for a smart stunning attack, so he moved to the side. Working to Kain’s flank, he peppered him with a flurry of mace attacks. Each one did progressively more damage, draining Kain to 60% HP.
Furious, the Barbarian swung his massive weapon in a wide arc, but it was well telegraphed. Nick stepped aside but under-estimated the reach of the club and was clipped by the tip. He sank to his knees, stagged by the concussive force.
Kain whooped with joy and followed with a roundhouse to Nick’s head. The younger pixel runner was sent tumbling to the floor, his HP on life support. All he could do was roll away and lick his wounds. This was going to end now. Kain simply had too much power at his higher level.
But the Barbarian’s gaze was directed somewhere else. He was looking at the brazier, where The Spiderling was returning. Cold daggers pierced Nick’s heart as he entertained the prospect of being imprisoned again - this time with no prospect of release.
But the grotesque creature found himself between Kain and Nick. Two crazy barbarian STR builds. For the first time he looked a little unsure of himself. Kain exchanged a quick glance with Nick - it was all they needed to establish what would happen here.
Kain roared with fury and rushed straight at The Spiderling. He might have been a psychopath, but he certainly wasn’t cowardly. Nick also advanced now that The Spiderling had turned to deal with Kain. He triggered a dual weapon power attack, crashing into The Spiderling with his barbed maces. It buckled the boss’s thin frame and drained a third of his health. It also interrupted the beam of purple energy coursing from his hands and leeching Kain’s HP.
The Spiderling spun around, blasting Nick off his feet with a red, concussive magic attack. Nick was pushed through the smoldering membrane, which crumbled when he landed. He fell several yards as the entire structure collapsed.
It took a few seconds to get his bearings. Chunks of foul, hardened gel were still falling around him. He stepped clear of the debris and discovered that he’d tumbled into an entirely new chamber. The collapsed material appeared to have extinguished the fire for good. There was no sign of Kain or The Spiderling, who were presumably still battling on the platform. Nick didn’t like Kain’s chances, which meant The Spiderling would be coming for him soon.
He ventured deeper into the murky chamber. The smell of rotten flesh was overpowering. The opposing wall was thick with trapped people. Nick got a shock when he saw pixel runners in there too. There were several visible name tags. BlessedDivine15. LadyLorah, Drillmaster73. Why on earth were there pixel runners down here? How long had they been in their Immersion tanks? It didn’t make any sense.
“Help me,” someone cried.
“Please, get us out of here,” pleaded another.
“We’re not NPCs,” wailed a third, which sent a chill down Nick’s spine.
But what could he do? His main priority was his own survival. He didn’t have the resources to help these people. And then a thought occurred to him - if he killed these runners, would they be returned to the outside world?
It was definitely worth a try. He advanced quickly, ham
mering at the membrane with his dual maces. The material wilted and came free. More disturbingly, the prisoners fell quickly, already weakened by their incarceration. A veritable flood of Hate points began pouring in. He’d never seen such a torrent.
Clearly, the viewers of Oakshield Junction didn’t take kindly to the perceived murder of fellow runners. But how could he explain what he was trying to do? It didn’t matter. All that counted was what he believed he was doing. He made his way deep into the membrane, smiting runners left and right with his mace attacks.
An incredible thing was occurring - Nick was receiving 1000 XP for every runner he killed. He was certain he wasn’t supposed to be in this chamber but he didn’t care. By the time he reached the Mound’s external wall he’d amassed enough XP to level up four times. He allocated all his points to STR, abandoning his defensive planning and going all out berserker.
Nick was about to double back and find a way out of the chamber when a piercing squawk drew his attention. It was coming from the other side of the wall. He watched, entranced, as a black beak thrust its way through. Instinct told Nick to stay put as the dirt wall was ravaged.
It was a bird - a giant raven. Remembering what Panny had said about the ravens, he helped tear the wall down. The raven retreated a little, apparently waiting for him to climb through. He stepped through the rubble, gasping at how high up they were.
The forest was like an inscrutable ocean spreading to the horizon. A bright, full moon cast a silver glow over the silent night scape. The raven squawked impatiently. Nick looked at it and sighed.
“For Panny,” he said, letting himself fall. The raven dived and caught him on it’s back. Dizzy and disoriented, Nick shut his eyes as the bird climbed into the night sky.
“No fuckin’ way,” said a familiar voice.
Nick’s heart sank - a second raven had fallen in alongside them. This one was carrying a critically wounded KainDestroyer18.
“Glad you made it, Kain,” Nick said through gritted teeth.
Strength Build: A LitRPG Saga (The Complete Strength Build Cycle) Page 9
