Seventh Realm Part 1: A LitRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 8)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Come in,” a distracted voice called through the door.

  He opened the door to find Jen, the head of Alva Healing House, slowly raising her head, drinking in the last words she was reading. New lines had worked into her face and she had a gravitas that hadn’t been there before. She had been so young and eager when she started. Now that eagerness had been tempered with time and experience.

  “Lord West.” She blushed.

  “Don’t worry. You ready?”

  “I should be the one asking that. You’re the one we’re draining.”

  “Ah, with my stamina, it’s nothing much. I’ll work on tempering my mana at the same time.”

  “Do you ever take a rest?”

  “I sleep for a few hours a week.”

  Jen sighed as she stood up wearing her lab coat. Erik made way for her in the doorway.

  They went down the corridor. She opened a door to a room with chairs reclined over formation plates and one rolling chair.

  “Are you sure about this?” Jen asked, taking a seat on the rolling chair.

  “I’m sure. Feel like a bit of a fucking vampire, but I don’t care if it saves people’s lives. I have Reverse Alchemist for a reason.”

  Erik moved to one of the reclining chairs.

  “Okay, let me get my gear.” Jen pulled out needles, catheters, saline, tubing, and bags. With additional gauze, she connected what needed to be connected. Yao Meng stepped outside with Jamie, while Rajkovic, Tian Cui, and Lucinda moved to the couches, pulling out books and a set of cards.

  Erik retrieved several ingredients and started eating them while taking off his shirt. They were meant to increase his blood production, and if he was right, increase the stamina regenerative properties of his blood.

  Jen set up her gear. “Good?”

  “Yup.” Erik opened and closed his fist, his veins bulging against his skin.

  Jen used a tourniquet, finding the vein with her fingers. She pulled on the skin and inserted a large-gauge needle. Blood rushed into the flash chamber. She pressed down ahead of the needle with one hand before pushing the catheter forward. Then withdrew the needle and released the tourniquet. She attached tubing before taking her prepared tape and securing the catheter to Erik’s skin.

  She secured the tubing to a thick plastic bag, putting it on a formation plate before she passed a ball to Erik. “Squeeze this.” She tapped the formation under the chair.

  Erik felt the wash of mana run through him, and a cooling sensation through his arm as he squeezed the ball. He drew in the mana, concentrating.

  Compress it in the outer reaches of my mana channels, draw it through my elemental core.

  The mana was filled with earth, fire, metal, and a small amount of water elements. His core sucked in everything but the mana and water element as he drew it around his body. He was still regaining his strength from the metal tempering and getting used to it. Jumping right into water tempering would only increase the learning curve later.

  Erik circulated his mana until all the water element had been absorbed into his body before he drew it down deeper through his mana system. There, he compressed it further, then poured it into his mana core.

  Jen checked everything and sat back in her chair. She smirked at Erik as she crossed her arms.

  “Something interesting? I got salsa on my cheek?” Erik rubbed his face but didn’t find any of his lunch.

  Once he started cultivating, it was easy to maintain it.

  “Just you, turning your entire body into a Revival potion factory.”

  “Well, I didn’t think it would actually work at first. Was more asleep than awake when I thought about it.”

  “How did such a thought occur to you?”

  “I was making the potions and needed to get some rest. So, I was eating the nutrient dense bars that we have and thought about how my blood must be nutrient rich. I eat so much damn food. The idea stuck with me. I cut my finger a bit and tasted it, used Reverse Alchemist on it. With a Body Like Sky Iron, I extract a lot more out of my food and environment, my blood is a pretty decent stamina potion. So, I put it in my cauldron and started working on it, adding ingredients. Figured out that if I ate some things to increase my blood flow, and then some other ingredients to increase the effects of my blood… Well, here I am.”

  Erik watched the blood filling the bag quickly.

  “I’m going to need bigger bags.” Jen pulled out another, ready to switch it out.

  Erik half-closed his eyes when Jen started talking again.

  “Thank you for saving Alva. For still trying to save us all,” Jen said.

  “Wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe get more beer.” Erik smiled.

  “Please don’t. The people taking your blood would be as drunk as a damn skunk. Food isn’t the only thing you need a lot of to do something to your body.”

  The door to the room opened. The special team didn’t move, expecting it.

  “Reports.” Yao Meng walked in holding out a box, filled with information books.

  “Dammit,” Erik sighed as he grabbed the first book.

  “Blood donor, mana cultivator, and city lord,” Jen laughed.

  “Keeps me out of trouble and keeps my hands occupied,” Erik winked.

  “Yes, like if you actually said you wanted company, you wouldn’t have three wives and four girlfriends by the end of the day.” Jen’s comment made Yao Meng snort as the rest of the special team laughed.

  “Gah, the curse of wives!” Erik looked shocked as he held out a hand to Yao Meng who dropped the box into his hand.

  “You’d have to do something other than train, work, train, work. You know he wanted to try to do this while he was sleeping?” Yao Meng said to Jen.

  The door opened again.

  “Will you stop doing so many things, Dame Fuerza!” Momma Rodriguez waved her hand at Erik and looked to the heavens, quickly doing the sign of the cross.

  Jen’s mouth was half open. A smile threatened to split her face apart as her eyes crinkled at the corner.

  She switched him to a new blood bag, and rolled backward, crossing her arms to watch the show with the rest of the special team. He’d filled the first two in under two minutes.

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to give me a heart attack, Erik?” Momma Rodriguez grabbed the box of papers and put them on a spare chair. She pulled over a table on wheels and pulled out plates, filling the table.

  “Momma,” Erik protested.

  “I know, you have a lot to do.” She waved her hand at him as she continued to draw out food. “You still need to eat—and sleep.”

  Erik wanted to fight, but it would be useless while his own stomach was rebelling after smelling the food.

  She pulled out containers and walked over to Yao Meng. “Take that to Rajkovic as well.”

  “Thank you, Momma Rodriguez.”

  “Ah, you’re a growing boy. You’ll be strong like my Erik and Jimmy soon enough. Make them go and find some wives!” She sent a pointed look at Erik who wiped his face and groaned, maintaining his mana cultivation.

  She tsked and pulled out more containers. “I made too much. Come on, come on, otherwise it will go to waste!”

  The special team members bowed their heads, thanking her for the food and accepting it.

  Like it can do that in a storage ring. He wasn’t going to be the one to argue with her, though.

  She moved back to Erik and pushed the table over. “Come on. Here, these tacos you can eat with one hand. Do you want me to feed you?”

  “No! Uhhh, um, I got that. All good, yeah.” Erik coughed, going bright red.

  “Okay, okay.” She raised her hands and put the reports on a table, taking the next seat over.

  “Thank you, Momma,” Erik said.

  “Now will you get a wife? Then I won’t have to slave in the kitchen every day!”

  “You wouldn’t leave the kitchen even if I had five wives!”

  “Well…” she considered it for a min
ute and nodded at his faultless logic. “They would have to be as good as I am.”

  So, none of them will.

  Erik picked up the taco and bit into it, letting out a groan.

  “See! Can’t see you getting all skinny again. Girls like a big, strong man. Why not get a new wife?”

  “I’m not going to go out on the street and wear a signboard with looking for a new wife written on it.”

  “It’s the Ten Realms. Things are different here. There were all those dating apps you used. What about that girl before you went to Africa?”

  “How did you—” Erik bit back his words.

  I’m going to murder Rugrat.

  “She wasn’t a girlfriend.” Erik staved off other words by eating.

  Momma Rodriguez tutted and sighed. “You fighter types.” She waved her hand next to her head as if the Lord himself was giving her strength. “Bah! You need a wife. Someone to look after you, someone to come home to.”

  “You just want un nieto!”

  “So what if I do? Do you not want children?”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “You need a wife before you can have children.”

  Erik gave up on the long-lost argument.

  Momma Rodriguez sat there smug in her victory.

  Erik got his bag changed again. He licked his fingers as Momma Rodriguez talked.

  “Anything from Jimmy?” Her voice was softer.

  Erik used a clean spell and reached out a hand.

  She looked at the offending limb, then at the table of food before she sighed and grabbed the reports, passing them to Erik.

  Erik braced himself, then opened and activated them.

  He finished all three of the thick information books. Their dusty remnants covered his lap as he closed his eyes, concentrating on the information that flooded his mind while his brain organized it. He focused on his cultivation as something to hold on to.

  The headache faded and he looked up, sighing. His eyes moved to pull it all into perspective.

  “Rugrat is safe. He finished tempering his mana core. He has a mana heart now. He’s with the mortar crews.” He looked at Momma Rodriguez. “He’s more of a threat to them than they are to him. He’s been building bunkers with his mana abilities.”

  Momma Rodriguez nodded and looked away. “It is good to know he is safe.”

  Erik watched her, feeling that there was more.

  “When you and Jimmy were out wherever, I never knew what was happening. I know, but you’re my boys. I won’t stop worrying.” Her shoulders sagged.

  Erik saw flashes of being in the field. Weapons were like a cellphone to them. They carried them everywhere, treating them fondly at times or hammering on them when they screwed up. Dust-covered faces, wire-thin bodies in sweltering heat or howling cold. The distant sound of firing, the hair-raising whiz of rounds, the crack as it hit the wall behind, the rush of heat and adrenaline. Death was everywhere, but doing nothing was worse.

  Red filled his vision. Faces filled with pain, a forgotten memory as he tore away plastic and paper-wrapping bandages, tightening tourniquets. The blood on the threads of his shirt button, he couldn’t get off.

  “When I watched the tv, I was looking out for you, your units, but also fearing it. Hearing you were in some battles, about the wounded. Then my heart would clench so tight. I knew that I would know before the news. But maybe they forgot me. Maybe the chaplain was on his way over right now and the news went out early.”

  Momma Rodriguez let out a shuddering breath. Erik stretched over and held her hand.

  “You’ll mess up your needle!” she said but only gave a light push away, letting him hold her hand.

  She gathered herself, but tears still filled her eyes. “It was worse with the private jobs. There was no information. You would just leave one day and come back another.” She picked up his hand, kissed it, and put it against her cheek. “War took one of my children, but the army gave me another.”

  Erik felt something catch in his throat, his own eyes wet.

  “You have such capacity for good. That is why you do what you do.” She wiped away her tears, patting his hands. “My Erik and Jimmy. I knew you would do great things together. It is harder in some ways to be so close, but so far from you both in this.”

  He gripped her hand in his, unsure what to say, so he just sat there as she held tight to his hand. Erik saw the lines on her face, the weariness and exhaustion that had snuck into her bones. She had such energy, but there was a greater toll than just the physical one.

  29

  Sighted

  Domonos looked over the most recent map information. The grey markers indicated the locations of the sects pushing toward Vuzgal. They took into account when they had left the different cities, how fast they were moving, and the direction they were going in, but there was no recent information on just where in the mountain ranges they were.

  His eyes fell on the iron ring around Vuzgal, showing the patrol routes for the air force and the scouts’ observation posts.

  Zukal walked into the command center. “How are the reserves looking?”

  “Good, they’re listening to their training staff and working hard. Haven't slept in three days, since they were recalled.”

  “You get them sorted out?”

  “They have their weapons. Tomorrow we’ll take them out on the range and get them used to their equipment.”

  “Good. Then we'll push them into the defenses,” Domonos said, looking over the underground city that peeked up out of the ground in front of Vuzgal.

  “You sure you don't want them to support the front lines?”

  “Too much can go wrong. Their cultivations are all over the place. So, what a normal soldier does, they might not be able to. They need time to adjust. Run them through using the defensive weaponry. Easier than figuring out new gear, new tactics, and having to use them all in a few days. We have plenty of forces in the field.” Domonos pointed at the artillery units. “With all of our units turned into artillery platoons, we've created a double-ringed defense.” The artillery positions were spaced out like a W that repeated over and over again in a crude circle.

  “We have two lines of artillery so the guns will never go silent as we pull back. Our people have been working alongside one another for years now. They work seamlessly. Adding in new units will only add complications, and we won't have a place for them. Instead of increasing their combat effectiveness, it will reduce it, turning our lean fighting machine into a bloated whale.”

  “Understood.” Zukal looked at the map. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Now?” Domonos exhaled and stood up. “Now we wait and watch for the enemy.”

  Captain Wazny moved with his sparrow mount against the air. His eyes never left the diverging black lines. Like a river of poison, the different sects flowed between mountain paths toward Vuzgal.

  “Hey Joe, you seeing this too?” he asked Joe Santos, his wingman for the recon flyover.

  “If you mean the thousands of people flooding through the mountains, yeah, I see it.”

  “Well, shit.”

  “Take them another three or four days to reach Vuzgal and they're in our range now,” Santos said.

  “You're one positive bastard, aren't you? Just give me a second. I'm gonna call it in.”

  Wazny used his sound transmission device to connect to the Vuzgal command center. “Vuzgal Command, this is Recon Flight Alpha Three. Message. Over.” Wazny checked the map on the inside of his arm.

  “Recon Flight Alpha Three, this is Vuzgal Command. Say message. Over.”

  “Vuzgal Command, be advised I am seeing the enemy moving through the northern mountain range, grid square whiskey-November-two-six-one-zero. Heading south. Over.”

  “Recon Flight Alpha Three, understood. Would you be able to give exact locations for the different passes they’re using?”

  “Vuzgal Command, understood. Wait, one. Over.” Wazny checked his map against the gro
und terrain and went through the process of passing back information to Vuzgal Command.

  Rugrat leaned against George, looking over the artillery positions from his section of trench.

  “Why did you take the worst sentry shift?” Simms asked.

  “Not like either of us need too sleep much anyway,” Rugrat said as he shifted his sling, raising his rifle that was between his legs and scanning the forest beyond.

  “Yeah. But boring as hell in the middle of the night.”

  “Don't worry. You'll be back in your warm cot in no time.” Rugrat grinned as he kept scanning.

  “All forward artillery platoons, this is Vuzgal Command. Stand to. I say again, stand to!”

  Rugrat stood as Simms raised his rifle a little higher.

  The artillery position came alive as lighting formations lit up. Artillery squads rushed out to their prepared guns.

  Rugrat pulled out his map and checked it. Symbols appeared across the map in the north and the south. “Looks like the recon flights found them.”

  The red river of enemy seeped into the mountain ranges. Secondary markings showed possible routes they might take into Vuzgal.

  “Load for spell trap dispersal. Our observers should have some coordinates for us shortly.” The Second Lieutenant briefed his squad leaders through the linked sound transmission channel.

  The mortars’ coverings were removed, revealing their runes. Enhancing formation plates were activated as mages prepared spells to increase the mortar's range.

  Rugrat and Simms seemed to be outside of the craziness happening all around them.

  “Lay down the spell traps, then wait till they get into range. How do we know they're not going to reach the spell traps before we hit them with mortars?” Simms asked.

  “We don't. The scouts have to radio in coordinates to the command center. They'll check them and agree. It’s up to them to make sure that the spell traps are far enough back that the enemy shouldn't run into them first. Starts a timer, really. We have to hit them with mortars before they reach the spell traps, or we lose the element of surprise.” Rugrat grinned. “Don't worry; it won't be long now.” Rugrat patted George, who let out a low growl.