Valhalla Online 4: Hel Hath No Fury: A Ragnarok Saga LitRPG Story

by Kevin McLaughlin

  20

  Sam backed her way out the far door of the gatehouse and found herself in the open again, walking the ramparts of the castle wall. Dokkalfar poured into the room she’d just fled. There were just too many of them! She couldn’t fire arrows quickly enough to take them all down.

  On the plus side, she’d fried the chains well enough that they should have a difficult time getting the mechanisms working again. That would keep at least a few of them busy trying. But even as she had the thought, the first elf followed her out through the door. She nailed him with an arrow, then fired another through the open doorway for good measure.

  They boiled out, chasing her. Sam fired one last shot — a miss — and then did what any reasonable person did when faced with impossible odds.

  She turned on her heel and ran.

  The corner tower wasn’t far ahead. If she could make it that far, maybe she could duck inside and sprint down the stairs. That would give her enough time to replenish her magic enough for an invisibility spell. Once she was hidden, she could just hang out and wait for Gurgle to get there with the rest of the party.

  An arrow splintered on the stone directly in front of her. It had only missed by inches. At first Sam saw the black shaft and thought it was like her arrows. Her breath caught in her throat at the idea. But no, it was only black wood. Her gaze darted up to the top of the tower, where a dokkalfar archer was already readying another shot.

  “Damn it!” Sam hissed. So much for saving up her mana. She worked a quick spell and cast a shield over herself. Just in time. The second arrow flashed through the air and splintered to pieces a few inches from her head. That had been far too close for comfort.

  Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Sam decided to keep heading for the tower. If her shield held, maybe she could still reach the dubious safety of the door there. The other alternative was to face the dozen or so guards coming up fast behind her.

  “Geronimo!”

  Sam wasn’t sure where the call came from at first. It echoed off the castle walls, sounding like it was coming from everywhere. A moment later a massive crash sounded behind her. The force of the impact threw her from her feet and almost sent the bow flying from her hands. She whipped out an arrow to deal with whatever this new threat was, rolling to bring her weapon up and aim.

  But it wasn’t a new threat! Harald had landed spectacularly in the middle of the dokkalfar squad. If his arrival had thrown Sam to the ground, it did much worse to the dark elves. Some of them had been thrown clear off the wall. Others lay on their backs, dazed. From the blood Sam saw, at least one had been crushed outright. Rings of cracks glazed the wall in concentric circles reaching out from where Harald’s massive rock form had struck.

  “The Marines have landed!” Harald roared, picking up a dokkalfar and tossing him out into the mire. He didn’t seem bothered by his drop in the least.

  Sam turned her attention back to the archer on the rooftop. It was an impossible shot for her. The range was too great for her skill. There was no way she could nail an elf hiding between stone battlements forty feet above her at that distance.

  But she didn’t need to be precise. She just needed to be close. Sam recalled what the arrows had done to the stable when XXX was hunting her. With a grin, she drew, aimed, and fired. The shaft rocketed upward. It didn’t strike the archer, but she hadn’t been aiming for him. Instead her arrow slammed into the battlements. It’s hack worked on the stone, sending spiraling rings of blackness through the dark material. In seconds her arrow had dissolved an enormous chunk of the tower’s roof and upper wall. With so much supporting stone removed, the rest of the rooftop tilted wildly and then crumbled, falling away into the mire outside the castle with a resounding roar.

  “Damn, woman! You don’t play around,” Harald said, gaping at the destruction.

  “Gonna make this castle sink into the swamp,” Sam said.

  “She’ll just build it again,” Harald retorted.

  “Then I’ll sink it again,” Sam said, flashing a grin back. She was glad to see Harald back to bantering with her. It reminded her more of his old self.

  Harald had already made short work of his adversaries. Stunned or wounded, they hadn’t put up much of a fight. He’d either tossed them aside or crushed them. Sam looked around for more dangers but didn’t see any obvious ones. The castle was quiet, for the moment.

  “Gurgle drop you off?” Sam asked.

  “That he did. It looked like you could use a little help. Then again, you could have just blown away the wall under the feet of those alfar chasing you,” Harald said.

  Sam wanted to slap her forehead. Of course, she could have. Or dropped the gatehouse roof on their heads. Or a million other things. She needed to get a better grip on what those arrows could do. They were useful for more than simple direct attacks.

  “Gurgle will be back with the others shortly. We ought to get ready to deal with whatever lies in there,” Harald said, pointing at the central keep that dominated the castle’s inner courtyard.

  “Let’s work our way down there. We’ll keep a landing zone clear for the others,” Sam said.

  Harald nodded assent, and the two went back into the gatehouse. Sam kept watch as they went back down the stairs to the ground level, but no enemies jumped out at them. At last the pair stood together just inside the gates. A large open area spanned between the gatehouse and the inner palace.

  “Well, she’s rolled out the red carpet for us,” Harald said.

  “What do you mean?” Sam asked.

  “Look,” Harald said. He pointed at the inner fort’s front doors. They hung wide open, inviting if not for the pools of complete darkness resting just inside.

  Hel knew they were coming. Worse still, she was so sure of herself that she wasn’t even trying to stop them anymore. She’d opened her doors and was all but inviting them in for tea. Well, hubris seemed to go hand in hand with these Valhalla AIs. Heid had certainly been full of enough pride to sink a ship. It looked like Hel was much the same.

  Sam heard Gurgle’s wingbeats. Her friends were getting close, and her mana was back up to nearly full. Hel might think she was ready, but she’d never had to deal with Sam and her friends before. With luck, they would be able to get in there and prove how very wrong she was.

  21

  Gurgle came in for a landing and the rest of the party hopped off quickly, ready for battle. Sam stepped out of the shadows under the gatehouse, shaking her head at them all.

  “We’ve cleared out the mess, at least those willing to show their faces,” Sam said.

  “Good, because the dark elves outside have won the fight. They’re on their way back,” Jorge said.

  “How many?” Sam asked.

  “Looks like about half their force. Maybe thirty still alive, and two-thirds of those look combat ready,” Jorge replied.

  Well, damn. That could throw a wrench into the works. Sam turned to examine the gatehouse. She’d fried the chains, so she couldn’t shut the gates. Whoops, maybe that wasn’t as good an idea as she’d thought. Perhaps she could melt through them and drop the portcullis? Or use an arrow on the chain. That would take it down quickly enough! The lesson from taking out the tower still fresh in her memory, Sam felt confident that she could do it.

  Of course, she could blast through the portcullis. The dokkalfar might be able to as well. But as she surveyed the gatehouse, Sam thought she saw a way of dealing with the problem that would buy them a little more time before the rest of the dark elf guards got through.

  “Everyone back up, away from the gatehouse,” Sam said. She followed her own advice, taking several swift steps out from under its shadow. The others followed, standing behind her.

  Sam nocked an arrow.

  “Um, what are you doing?” Benson asked. “An arrow? Even a hacked one?”

  “Hush. Watch. She knows what she’s doing,” Harald said.

  Sam thanked Harald silently inside her head and returned to taking careful
aim with her bow. She’d need to be quick. This would require two shots in rapid succession. She targeted a support pillar on the left side of the inner gatehouse and fired.

  As swiftly as she could manage, Sam drew and nocked a second arrow. The dark tendrils were spreading up the left-hand column as she aimed for the one on the right. She fired. The arrow sped toward her target, smacking a little lower than she’d intended to hit. But the damage was the same regardless.

  Both pillars evaporated, erased as if they’d never been.

  The gatehouse was built with sound construction, made from solid stone. Perhaps it was reinforced with magic as well. Whatever the reason, it held for the space of several breaths even with the supports gone. For a long moment, Sam thought it wasn’t going to work after all.

  Then the inside half of the gatehouse came crashing down. Plumes of dust and debris showered the party as the mess cascaded down into the courtyard. When the dust had settled, it was clear that the way through was entirely blocked. The passage between the portcullis and outer doors was filled with rubble. The returning dokkalfar would have to either clear the mess or scale the walls to get inside.

  “That should hold them for a little while, but we still don’t have long,” Sam said. “Let’s go visit the dark mistress of this place, shall we?”

  “You know, when I told you I’d follow you anywhere, even into Hell, this wasn’t precisely what I had in mind,” Benson joked. He swung his big axe up over his shoulder and grinned at the others.

  “Should have thought about that before you signed on,” Sam said. “Unless you’d like to go deal with the dokkalfar instead?”

  Benson chuckled. “Not a chance. I’m in it to win it. Let’s do this! Lee-“

  Sam grabbed his wrist. This meme, she’d seen. “You say that name, I swear to god I will feed you to Gurgle.”

  Benson laughed, a big belly laugh that was infectious enough to get even Harald chuckling. Gurgle didn’t laugh. He had his head cocked sideways and looked confused, which only made Sam laugh harder.

  Sam led the way through the doors. The space inside was darker than it had any right to be. It was like the gatehouse had been. The stone seemed to drink away at the light pouring in, like the building itself was a living thing hungry for sustenance. It was going to be too dark to see more than a few steps in.

  “Clara, nock an arrow,” Sam said.

  The woman looked mystified by the request, but did as Sam asked. As soon as the arrow was readied in her bow, Sam touched its tip with her magic, casting light on it. A ball of pale white glow spread out from the arrowhead.

  “Shoot it in there. Let’s see if we can cast a little light on things,” Sam said.

  Clara nodded and fired. She’d aimed low, expecting it to hit a wall somewhere inside. Instead, the arrow kept going, sailing on into the dark and clattering against the floor before it came to a stop about twenty meters in.

  “It looks like the whole place is hollow,” Clara said.

  “Maybe. Or maybe just part of it,” Sam said. She cast light spells on two more arrows. Clara fired them at angles to the first. Each went in about the same distance before stopping. None of them hit a wall. It did look like most of the castle was a massive hollowed out space.

  It was an odd place to live, but who could guess how an AI thought? A real AI ought to understand that it was after all just zeroes and ones. All of them were digital media, and even if they were thinking, it was just the thoughts simulated by the program they all existed as. AI or uploaded human mind, were they really all that different now?

  The answer was that they likely were. Sam had lived in the real world outside Valhalla. She’d grown up living in homes, sleeping in beds, feeling the sun on her face and grass under her feet. Hel had never had any of those things. She’d been born inside Valhalla, already knowing she was digital from the first moment of her life. It made sense that she would have a home that felt alien to Sam.

  A thought niggled at the back of her mind. If that was the case for Hel, why was Heid’s home so much like a human one? Heid’s keep had rooms, beds, and hallways. It felt like an exaggerated version of an ancient human dwelling, but there was the feeling of humanity about the place nonetheless. Where had she learned that?

  “Come on, let’s get in there and have a look around. Stay alert,” Sam said.

  She led the way into the darkness, moving toward the middle where the arrow had come to rest, still glowing on the floor. All three lights were like white flares, spilling a little pool of radiance around themselves that never really touched anything else. The roof was up there, somewhere, but Sam couldn’t see it. The whole place was perfect for an ambush.

  The hell with all of this. They could retreat back outside and Sam would fire arrows into the place until it came entirely apart or Hel decided to go out and play with them. Either way, at least they’d be calling the shots, fighting her on their terms instead of hers. Sam opened her mouth to give the order to withdraw when a strange sound caught her attention. It was soft, the most gentle of thumps.

  She whirled toward the noise, her bow coming up as she turned, an arrow already nocked and ready.

  A black cloak flashed toward her, tangling itself in her bow. Sam held on as hard as she could. If she lost that weapon, they were in deep shit! The cloak snapped taut and Sam found herself lifted into the air like she was being slung around on the end of a rope. Still she clung to the bow, hoping the ride would end soon as the dark floor flashed by beneath her.

  The cloak withdrew. Sam found herself sailing through the air. She crashed against the floor and let out a cry of pain. But even through the agony of the landing Sam was able to see a tall, cloaked woman standing in the middle of the room.

  “I am sorry to have hurt you, but I know what you carry,” the stranger said. “I cannot risk you using it on me. Stay down, if you want to live.”

  Sam didn’t have to ask who the woman was. They’d found Hel.

  22

  Harald rushed in with a roar, arms raised above his head. Hel sidestepped his charge, whipping her cloak across his face. Then she tugged hard on the cloth and sent him tumbling away into a pool of shadow. Sam heard the crash of his landing.

  Damn it, he was their best protection against her dagger! Sam struggled back to her feet. With their shield down, the rest of them were vulnerable. She had to get back in the fight and finish things.

  Before she could draw an arrow, Clara was already loosing her own. One after another, the arrows flew unerringly from her bow. Hel’s hand flashed, light reflecting off something dark as she wove a pattern in front of her. A shield spell appeared there. The arrows shattered harmlessly against it.

  But while she’d been distracted Grimalf and Benson were able to sweep in from behind her. Benson swung first, his axe set to cleave Hel in half. She leaped over the swing, rising impossibly high into the air. Her booted foot lashed out at Benson’s forehead and connected with a meaty thwack. He toppled over like a felled tree.

  As Hel landed, Grimalf’s blade arced in toward her unguarded flank. His blow struck home. The AI cried out as his sword fell. But as mighty as Grim’s sword-stroke had been, it didn’t drop her. She reached out with her left hand and struck him in the chest with her palm. He flew backward a dozen feet and lay sprawled on the floor.

  In the space of a handful of seconds, Hel had demolished most of their party. Sam was on her feet and drew a hacked arrow to her bow.

  “Let’s see that shield spell stand up to this,” Sam called out as she fired.

  Hel whirled toward her, right hand flashing again. There was no spell this time. Instead she slashed through the air in front of her. Sam’s arrow fell to the stone floor, sliced in half.

  “I have my own weapons of power, Samantha,” Hel said.

  “How many times can you pull that trick?” Sam asked. “I only have to get one arrow through.”

  She drew and fired three shots as rapidly as she could. One after another the arrows spe
d at their target. Hel danced, advancing toward Sam and slicing apart one arrow after another. If she felt any fear from the hacked arrows, she didn’t show it. Sam backed up, still firing more arrows. They didn’t seem to so much as slow the goddess down.

  A golden glow appeared in the air above Hel and dropped down into a cage of light around her. She struck at the bars with her left hand. Sparks flew, but the cage held.

  “You’re not the only one with magic,” Jorge said. His hands were outstretched, his face taut with concentration. Sweat beaded on his brow. He wasn’t going to be able to hold the spell long, and Sam couldn’t risk shooting and hitting the magical cage instead of Hel.

  “You cannot contain me long,” Hel snarled at Jorge.

  “I don’t have to. Now, Gurgle!” Jorge cried. He dropped his arms. The spell snapped off.

  A moment later half a ton of angry dragon crashed into Hel from above. Gurgle blasted her with cold breath while he raked at her body with his claws. Hel screamed. His jaws closed over her left arm, drawing blood. The force of his rush sent them both tumbling over, Gurgle’s entire mass landing on Hel as they rolled. Sam winced. That had to hurt, even for an AI goddess. She drew another arrow and stalked closer. It was time to finish this.

  But when the struggling pair stopped moving, it was with Hel on top, Gurgle pinned to the ground beneath her. She was holding a black dagger in her right hand, the point aimed at Gurgle’s throat. Sam’s heart caught in her chest.

  Hel glanced over at her. “I see from the expression on your face that you know what my blade can do. Believe me when I say that if you let that arrow fly, he will die before I do.”

  “If he dies, so do you,” Sam retorted.

  Hel sighed, an exasperated sound. “If I’d wanted any of you dead, don’t you think you all would be by now? Look around at your companions, woman. They are all alive. Why do you think that is?”