Stars Awoken: A LitRPG Apocalypse (The System Apocalypse Book 7)

by Tao Wong

  A few minutes later, after I come up for air, I look at the strange group that makes up my dining companions. The sight before me makes me blink, but I push the thought aside and sip on the Apocalypse Ale. “So what do we know about the Wolves?”

  “We have our contacts looking for them, but…” Hondo shrugs.

  I have to admit, I understand his reaction. After all, they’ve been looking for this group all this time. It’s not as if looking a little harder will make a difference. Probably.

  “Hondo, have they ever been this blatant before?” I say.

  “In their attacks? No. But you underestimate the anger you have generated. Local law enforcement might desire them caught, but they have neither the Skills nor the Credits to do so, not while stymied by those with vested interest. As for the Master Class bounty hunters, few will take a commission on a team this powerful.”

  “How about Heroics?” Mikito asks.

  Hondo shrugs.

  When he provides no further answer, Ali butts in. “Heroics kind of do their own thing. Or whatever the organization they chained themselves to tells them to do. While Irvina has three Heroics, they’re mostly dealing with other problems. Unless the Council decides to set them loose, you won’t see them move.”

  “And the Wolves are under the thumbs of the Irvina already. I’m guessing the Edge has their own Heroics. So… what? A cold war situation where the Heroics are never put in play?” I say.

  Hondo inclines his head slightly, and I sigh. Joy.

  “Bait?” Mikito says, deciding to shift the direction of our pointless conversation.

  “Probably.” I lean backward, sipping on the beer, and pull some whisky-infused chocolates from storage. I offer the pieces to the others before popping one in my mouth. “Obvious but…”

  “But if they don’t take it, they’ll fail to finish their mission,” Hondo says.

  “Do we know if they’re contracted to keep coming at John?” Ali says, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, their attacks and other actions are already having an effect on recruitment.”

  “We do not,” Hondo says, “but we must assume a contract is in effect. Slowing down the recruitment is insufficient for their ends. They must destroy the program and make an example.”

  “Katherine? If they go after her—”

  “Unlikely, but we have added to the defenses your people have set up,” Hondo says. “Attacking an ambassador on Irvina carries significant penalties. It would—at the very least—increase the bounty on the Wolves to the point that other groups would target them. In such a case, I would not be surprised if some of the more proactive Heroic Combat Classers bumped them up on their list. Or the Council even authorized some of the local Heroics to take action.”

  “Wait. Heroic Combat Classers have a list?” Mikito says, eyebrow rising.

  “There are… individuals who feel that their position allows them to right wrongs,” Hondo says, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

  “Wannabe superheroes,” Ali adds in his two cents.

  “That’s amazing,” I say.

  “Oh please. Paladin.” Ali points his wrapped-up meat-meal at me. “As if you aren’t going to become one of those.”

  “Hey! All I was doing before these guys bothered me was reading,” I say.

  “It’s true. He was very boring.” Mikito nods sagely.

  “Exactly. Wait.” I glare at the little Japanese woman, who flashes me a smile, before I change the subject back. “So Katherine’s relatively safe. The rest of the diplomatic corp are in lockdown. How about the combat teams?”

  “Portal.”

  I nod at Mikito’s short and entirely reasonable suggestion. “Good call. All right, then we have a game plan? Or at least, the outline of our strategy?”

  “This is no game. But yes, I believe so,” Hondo says. “I shall be accompanying you in any dungeon run.”

  “To the dungeon entrance. But you’re going to run a dungeon and a team yourself.” When he moves to say something else, I shake my head. “We’ll use ones with clear boundaries so we can’t be attacked while running them. In the meantime, you’ll help run as many people through as possible.”

  “That is not my job,” Hondo says with a snap.

  “Maybe. But it’ll help us finish this faster. The higher Level we get these recruits, the better the campaign looks. And that means the more pressure the Wolves will be under to finish this.”

  Hondo stays silent for a time before he speaks slowly. “Very well.”

  After that, we talk details. Both where and when we can expect to be attacked as well as how we should handle matters. We talk about our strengths and the Wolves’ strengths, as well as potential weaknesses. It’s almost nice, working with Hondo. He’s vastly more experienced and offers some great suggestions. But a portion of my mind can’t help but think that we’re asking for trouble in the future.

  Ah hells. What is, is. And what it is, is that we need him. And him, us.

  For now.

  Chapter 14

  Walking out of my Shop the day after, I find Hondo standing impatiently in front. I was amused when I got to the Shop and found out that the Weaponmaster did not have the right to enter. Rather than give him a guest pass, I left him outside to stew.

  “Did you get what you needed?” Hondo says, and I nod. “Then let us go.”

  “On it,” I say, raising my hand and opening up the Portal to the dungeon.

  Seconds after we step through, I’ve got another Portal open for the other members of the security team. Hondo organizes the crowd of Combat Class recruits who have been waiting for us under the watchful eye of the local security forces. Due to the potential for conflicts among the guilds and loot stealing, security around dungeon entrances is always significantly higher. Since the attacks, the security teams have been doubled.

  “About time,” Mikito says grumpily as my last Portal pulls her from our guild entrance.

  Surprisingly, Draco comes out of the Portal too, eying the crowd. “Redeemer. I would like a word.”

  “Right. Can I send the others out first?” I say, nodding at the groups who have mostly organized themselves.

  Draco accedes to my request and soon enough, everyone’s lined up and pushing into the dungeon.

  “Thanks. Now, what’s up?” I ask.

  “I have received word from Tig himself,” Draco says, his eyes gleaming slightly. I fail to read them, uncertain if he’s amused or interested. “In short order, a citywide announcement will be made. Any attacks on dungeoning parties that contain members of our guild will be dealt with directly by Tig and his party.”

  “Dungeoning parties?” I frown.

  “Aye. On that note…” Draco tilts his head, and I follow his gaze to a group of other aliens arriving. Surprisingly, their Status information publicly displays our guild affiliation. “Say hello to your new volunteer dungeon party leaders.”

  “Why?” I frown at Draco, a bit concerned by this sudden change.

  “Three reasons. Firstly, we’re going to be recruiting directly from your people. I understand that Tig has already discussed a number of additions to our Guild Houses on Earth. Secondly, allowing attacks on dungeon parties—for any reason—is a bad idea. That’s why our guild will not be the only one making their stance clear. The second and seventh guild wars are not something we want to see repeated. Lastly, and Tig wanted me to emphasize this.” Draco falls silent, letting the silence stretch out between us. “You owe us.”

  I let out a surprised bark of laughter at those words and the all-too-serious look on Draco’s face. When the lizardman doesn’t change his features, I sober up. “Of course.”

  “Good. Try not to die. We’ve invested a lot into this experiment of yours.”

  “You know, I could use another Master Classer…”

  “Not happening,” Draco says, shaking his head. “Supporting you in the manner we’re doing is already stretching matters. Directly providing you with individual help would be… well… a
Skill too far.”

  “Fine, fine,” I say, waving off Draco and gesturing for the waiting group of recruits to come over.

  In the meantime, Ali’s been sorting out our help and sending out notices to the bodyguards and our recruits.

  I’m about to enter the dungeon when Draco calls, “But that wasn’t a bad idea.”

  “What?” I say, confused as my mind is wrenched from working out the most optimal formation for these new recruits.

  Draco doesn’t answer me as he wanders away, chatting to his own people.

  I stare briefly at the lizardman’s tail before throwing up my hands and pointing at a laggard recruit. “Come on, we don’t have all day. Trust me, the monsters don’t care what color your skinsuit is. You’re all red on the inside.”

  “Actually, Oeonae muscle is yellow in color and our blood is green,” the fussy humanoid with a hard-shell frill across his head and extra-large jaw says.

  “In!” I roar.

  “Oy! Pretty boy,” I say, pointing at the Oeonae. “Get your ass back in the line.”

  “But I’ve got to heal her—”

  “In. Line!” I shout, grabbing his shoulder and tossing him back in line. I wince as I overuse my strength, sending the poor bastard bowling into the group of robotic monsters charging the group.

  There’s stunned silence among the adventuring team while the robots swivel, taking the change in circumstances and rolling with it, like the robotic monstrosities they are.

  “Did you fall asleep and get switched out for a Changeling? Get moving, you bunch of Goblin asses. Back up your friend!” Ali says, his gestures even more agitated.

  The group of beginner Adventurers jerks into motion, launching themselves at the robots in a frenzy. The lead Warrior uses his halberd to bash away a pair of robots while a red-skinned devil poofs and reappears next to the downed Oeonae to jab electrified gauntlets into an attacking robot.

  “And you!” Ali spins to me and points a finger. “Stop helping.”

  “Fine,” I growl and cross my arms. Beelzebub flips over the shorting monster and sweeps another robot off its feet with his tail. “Some good talent here.”

  “If you don’t kill them,” Ali retorts.

  I grunt and step back, leaving the Spirit to harangue and generally train the kids while I walk the line, watching as they battle the Level 20+ monsters. This is one of the strangest dungeons I’ve ever been in. Here, you walk into a room that rotates, moving on its own accord. Monsters stream out while obstacles and other objects pop up, giving new terrain features. The entire room assembly moves up, down, and sideways through warped space, connecting to different corridors depending on some esoteric puzzle mechanism that involves killing monsters in the right sequence to get to the end of the maze. Or, as we’re going to do, just killing everything along the way since there’s a max number of changes allowed per session.

  “John. They’re tapping out,” Ali calls.

  I take my time conjuring my sword as I eye the group. The support members of the party are nearly out of Mana. The front-line fighters are panting and groaning from numerous injuries, Stamina nearly tapped out and, in some cases, Mana too. I watch as the purple-clad Oeonae gets swarmed again by robots that punch and stab with their drills while Beelzebub gets tripped up and smashed into the ground.

  “John?”

  “Redeemer!”

  I swing my blade three times, Blade Strikes flashing out to tear and rip, cut and dismember. And then it’s over. I could have done it in one, but then I’d cut apart the team.

  “What in the System’s name was that!” The Oeonae pushes himself upward, flecks of acidic spittle flying from his mouth.

  “Pretty sure that was me saving you. All of you,” I say.

  “You could have acted sooner. The Spirit told you to act faster,” a female Yerrick says while bent over, sucking in deep breaths. Her compression clothing is torn, showcasing fur on her stomach. It seems the Yerrick has invested in self-repairing armor, so everything is slowly getting put back together.

  “This is the third fight. None of you have been conserving your Stamina or Mana.” As I speak, the robot remains slowly fade into the ground, their bodies broken up by the nanites that live in the room itself. A slight shudder runs through the room, then we’re moving again, shifting to a new location. “And we’re about to enter the fourth fight. Exactly how are you expecting to survive this?”

  “With you,” Beelzebub says as he bandages his leg. “Isn’t that what you promised?”

  “We did. But what’s the point of me doing all the work? If I do that, how much experience are you all going to get?”

  There’s a long silence as they consider the question. As the room clunks to a stop and metallic pillars rise, I raise my hand and cast Metal Walls. The newly formed barricade blocks off what’s coming and gives our people time to rest.

  The Oeonae looks at me, firming his stance. “But what can we do? We’re out-Leveled by a significant margin.”

  His words get the group nodding, and I find myself sweeping my gaze over everyone. When I see them actually listening, I point at each person in turn. “Stick to your roles. No running back and healing people, even if you can. Use your healing on yourself if you need it.” This to the Oeonae.

  “Use your spells to hinder and bind instead of damaging.” This to the gnome, who blushes, setting off his cute freckled nose as he does so.

  “And, for god’s sake, don’t step out of line if you intend to hold a melee line.” The Yerrick snorts in acknowledgement.

  “Next”—I cast a second Metal Wall to keep the monsters back—“you guys aren’t helping each other. You’re meant to be a team. Start acting like one. And yes, I know you’re a random group we picked up. But that doesn’t mean you should act like a bunch of independents.

  “Also. Slow it down. We change rooms each time we clear it. So why are you rushing the battle, especially the last kill?”

  “Mother’s udders,” the Yerrick swears, breaking the stunned silence.

  I glare at the group before I sigh, raising my finger. “Last thing, people. Stop panicking. You’re going to Earth. It’s going to get hairy. It’s going to get tough. You need to keep thinking, keep on the balls of your feet. Or hooves. Whatever you’ve got. Sure, this is your first time in this dungeon. But if you stop trying to figure things out, you’re going to die.”

  When I see my words sink in, I flash Ali a wry grin. Weird to play the good cop in this relationship, but drill sergeant Ali is not the right person to tell them this. Not and keep them moving and fighting when the walls come down. So here I am, teaching a bunch of kids how to fight. Again.

  Six rooms later, the kids are getting the hang of it. They’ve got the latest final robotic creation down on the floor, attempting to pick up its pieces. The robot keeps attempting to regenerate its accordion arms to prop up its saucer-shaped body, but every time it manages to get a second army fully created, either the Yerrick or Beelzebub takes out the other arm, dropping the robot to the floor. The rest of the group is drinking water, chewing on regeneration food aids, or just resting.

  “How about you, Eezoo? Why are you going to Earth?” the Oeonae asks the little gnome.

  “Credits, what else? My pod family were caught in the Iuwil outbreak four years ago. Nearly all of them had their Mana channels damaged. We’ve scraped enough together to get my second ma the healing she needs, but my first ma and third pa have it worse,” the gnome says. “Getting to Earth will give me more Credits to get them a proper healing. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck constantly buying the Looma freshers.”

  “Double-orificed worms, those freshers.” Oeonae spits to the side. “Fix you up for a few months but then you have to buy them again.”

  “Yeah. But at least they’re cheap. What about you?”

  “Nothing so noble,” Oeonae says. “Just got married and a litter. We need to make enough to eat, you know? Can’t own a place on the scraps you pick up here.”
/>   “She a Combat Classer too?”

  “Ja. We decided it’s best not to be on the same team. That way there’d be one of us for the litter. The slimeballs are with the parents right now. Hopefully we’ll be able to Level up enough to bring them to live with us before they get out of the larvae stage.”

  That image makes me shudder internally, so I stop eavesdropping. They’re already turning to talk to the next person in line, but I decide even my curiosity has limits. I’m an open guy with a decent level of respect for our new alien brethren, but there are limits. And so I resolve not to pay further attention to this discussion while I concentrate on the next step of our dungeon run.

  The room lurches again, coming to a shuddering halt. The entrance doorway twitches and flows, expanding as the nanites that make up the room eat away at the metal walls and replace them with larger blast doors. It was strange to watch the first few times, but by this point, we’re used to it. Even if this particular door is significantly larger than anything else we’ve dealt with thus far.

  “All right, kids, get your long-range attacks ready. Power them up if you can because you’re going to get one shot. Then boy-o here is going to finish this,” Ali says.

  “Really? We can last longer than that,” the Yerrick growls, hefting her axe.

  “You’ve done well. But there’s no point in chancing a death now,” I say, stepping forward. “Boss monsters often have nasty one-shot kills, so better to just take the experience. Anyway, you’ll all be getting his loot.”

  “Really?” Beelzebub says. “I mean, the others mentioned…”

  “Yes,” I say. No point in trying to insist on the truth. Better to let them experience it.

  The group gets ready while I turn to the blast doors. They slide up to reveal a robotic monster that could only be described as the bastard love child of a dump truck and a mecha. The moment the monster makes itself known, a wide array of attacks hit it, from beam rifle shots to spells. Beelzebub disappears, reappearing in a puff of smoke right above the monster, daggers stabbing deep into the Boss. The Boss glows, electrifying its body and sending Beelzebub into spasms, his health falling precipitously.