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

by Michael Chatfield

  Han Wu came out from behind the picture wall with a grin, making Gong Jin flinch and curse.

  “Hey, boss.” He jerked a chin at the only person in the basement that wasn’t part of their team. “That’s Ming, our contact.”

  “Good to meet you, sir,” the man said, standing up and shaking his hand.

  “Tell me what we’re looking at here.” Gong Jin indicated to the map on the wall.

  Ming moved to it and pointed at several red dots. “These are all supply depots for the United Sect Army. They’re stored, sorted and sent out from here to the front lines. There are seven in total. These—” Ming pointed to the orange markings in the crafting quarter. “—are sect-controlled crafting workshops.”

  “We’re here to blow the supply dumps. Why are you telling us about the crafting workshops?” Han Wu asked.

  “The sects check everything and anything that comes into their supply depots from an outside source. They don’t check the carts coming from their sect workshops.”

  “Useful how?” Gong Jin asked.

  “Useful as in they won’t check the carts too closely when they return to a supply depot from a crafting workshop, and those on the front lines don’t check their supplies as they’re busy fighting a war.”

  Gong Jin took in a cold breath. “Nasty. Real nasty.”

  “Complacency will kill a soldier faster than a round,” Asaka agreed.

  Han Wu yawned in the early morning sunlight. He paused as people flowed around him on the sidewalk, trying to avoid being late. They grumbled as they passed him and created a cover as he stood in front of the gates to a workshop.

  He reached into the ground under his feet, using his control over the earth element to part the rocks and dirt to create holes. He moved his leg to the side, releasing the explosive charge in his cut pocket. It slid down his leg into the left hole.

  He moved to the side, sealing the left hole as he released the charge down his right leg and into the second hole. The stone and dirt washed over the charge, hiding it from view. He moved to an alley, his work unseen in the busy street. He changed clothes from worker to trader and doubled back, entering a restaurant, ordering noodles and tea. He pulled out a notebook filled with markings and took his time sipping his tea. He didn’t have to wait long as the first supply cart appeared, it forced the walkers to either side and pushed past the gates.

  More carts showed up through the morning.

  Han Wu finished his noodles and ordered some more tea, spotting different team members planting more explosives.

  The first cart made to exit. The driver yelled at the people in front of the exit as he pushed through with his beasts.

  Han Wu opened the ground underneath the cart. A pillar of dirt tipped with the explosive-wrapped charge pressed against the bottom of the cart. “Wood Manipulation.”

  He muttered the spell, altering the underside of the cart to grow over the charge as he released the dirt and covered it in stone.

  There was no sign anything had happened as the cart rattled onto the street.

  Han Wu drank some more tea, feeling the sweat on his brow.

  More carts departed, but Han Wu had to wait until there was a slower one. He spent the morning pushing charges to the undercarriage of several supply carts.

  When the explosives ran out, he paid his bill and headed out.

  He went to the side of the crafting workshop. His flowing robes covered the ground underneath him as he tied his shoe.

  Last little present.

  He dropped in a much larger charge, covering it, and pushing it under the ground and wall as deep into the workshop as he could in the time it took him to tie both shoes and stand up.

  He took out his sound transmission device.

  “Hey boss, planted at the target. Moving out.”

  “Understood.”

  Han Wu ducked into an alleyway. Tyrone was already there, wearing sect armor and gear. He nodded to Han Wu as he continued to stand on lookout.

  Han Wu took off his robes and pulled on pants, a shirt, and boots. He strapped a sword to his hip and pulled out a bandana emblazoned with a sect’s symbol. “How do I look?”

  “Passable,” Tyrone said.

  They moved through the city and toward the gates. By then it had turned to mid-afternoon. The guards barely spared them a second glance as they walked through the gates.

  Carriages lay waiting to transport reinforcements. They found some of Special Team Four and Eight waiting for them and got on a carriage that had been checked for explosives.

  “Be good to get to the main army,” Han Wu said. The sect members in the carriage looked over but kept to themselves.

  “Yeah, we’ve got a lot of work to do,” Gong Jin agreed.

  The driver called out to his beast, and the carriage lurched forward, onward to the United Sect Army’s front.

  They rode for a few hours. Asaka checked her watch. Gong Jin pulled out a clacker, hidden in his hands under his arm and squeezed it three times, black smoke shot up into the sky, the sound of the explosion reaching them minutes later.

  Secondary explosions went off in several locations and Han Wu saw the signs of fires starting around the city.

  Han Wu’s sound transmission device buzzed. He picked it up and listened. “Each of the supply depots were hit with varying levels of destruction. The teams at the supporting cities are reporting success. Some carts exploded along the road, killing reinforcements headed to the army as well. The targeted workshops don’t exist anymore.” Ming reported.

  “All right. Stay safe, Ming. See you back at base.”

  “You got it, boss man.”

  Han Wu closed the transmission device.

  “Some spell formations went off in the city. Looks like an enemy attack!” he said to the people in the carriage, acting for the sect members in the carriage.

  Murmurs went through the carriage.

  One sect member snorted. “I can’t hear anything.”

  “I’m telling you, I have a friend in the city. He said everything was attacked in one hit.”

  “How could they do that? Teleport into the city and attack us? My master says that they know nothing about how to fight properly. They keep retreating and use formations and spells because they can’t cast powerful spells and their combat skills are weak,” another sect member said.

  “I’m telling the truth,” Han Wu said.

  They snorted and stopped talking to him.

  Han Wu looked at those around him before falling into sullen silence.

  Part one complete, now for Part Two.

  Night fell as they rolled off the road, coming to a wayside camp. Tents had been thrown up to create sleeping and eating areas. Carriages were lined up ready to continue their journey for the next day.

  The team left the carriages, stretching and moving to the food tents. The wounded were fed weak soup outside while the fresh fighters got cooked meats and stamina potions.

  The teams moved around the camp, planting attack formations in the ground. They snuck past the guards who made sure people didn’t desert, and grouped together, pulling out their panther mounts, and headed into the forest.

  Moving in silence, they removed their sect clothing and reached a cave.

  Gong Jin halted them. “Great night for some fireworks.”

  Two Close Protection teams appeared out of the forest. “You’re the last,” one of them said and waved them forward. The team dismounted and entered the cave, the details collapsing from their watch positions.

  “How about the rest stops?” Gong Jin asked the CPD leader who had led them into the cave.

  “We got nearly every damn one of them.”

  “Good,” Gong Jin said as one of the mages used a spell. The dirt at the side of the cave moved and a stone slid away, revealing a teleportation formation.

  “Back home we go.”

  “They did what? Charged?” Domonos stared at the map, deciphering the ever-changing symbols and placements. Tr
ees that appeared one moment disappeared into craters as aerial forces bombed the fighters hiding underneath.

  Glowing markers showed where artillery platoons had set up and the path of the aerial forces.

  Aides created a buzz of conversation, transforming and changing the map as new information came in.

  The swords had turned into arrows and were charging forward.

  “Yeah, they must have thought we were leading an attack into their teeth. Don’t think they’re used to an enemy hitting them from far away and not getting in close to steal their shit. Command and control is a mess. There are lost units walking in circles. Reinforcements and supplies are stuck in the passes as we keep hammering them. Some units are using mana barriers, but the terrain is fucking them up.” Zukal smiled. “They’re a fucking mess.”

  “I love good news, but they reacted faster than I thought. While they’re fucked up, spreading out and pushing forward as fast as possible is the best move for them,” Domonos said.

  “They rushed through the mortar fire. Looks like panic or orders. Groups ran right into the trap fields, although some made it through,” an aide reported.

  “Must not have known if they were mortars or traps,” Zukal added.

  Domonos used his sound transmission device, his eyes flicking over the map. “Kanoa, launch all your people. Hit them with everything you have. Break their forward momentum or they’ll cross our lines, and we’ll have their units among ours. I’m ordering the mobile artillery to pull back. They’ll cover and move, shooting over one another to hit the enemy. Once they're inside our sensing range, they'll be free to pick out their own targets. The reserve support units will assist your kestrel units.”

  “Yes, sir! Target priority?”

  “Hit the runners. Make them turn back with the sparrows. Use explosives and firebombs. Create lines in the forests to funnel them. Use kestrels to hit the larger groups.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You heard what I said.” Domonos looked at the aides. “Make it happen. The reserve support units will board the kestrels and act as attack mages. Enact plan Scorpion. Activate all spell traps across the valley. Make sure our scouts pull back before they’re encircled. If they need aerial extraction, they’ll have to hold in place.”

  Domonos’ eyes never left the map. Was there an order to disperse and charge or did that happen in a panic? With the enemy spread out, one mortar wouldn’t be able to kill as many. Their command and control would be hampered, but they had numbers on their side, and they knew where they were going. Domonos gritted his teeth, trying to see through the enemy's plan, to scry the future.

  “If I were him, I’d charge forward as fast as possible to disrupt our lines, create chaos. The farther they get, the better. If they can cross and confuse our lines, that would be the best. Okay, so we need to make them group up and slow down.” His eyes locked onto the mountains. “The traps will slow them, but they're streaming out of the mountains now.”

  “Most of their forces still need to cross them,” Zukal said.

  Domonos grabbed a pointer and studied the mountain ranges. “We need to cut off these paths here. This is where most of the units are splitting. Cutting off these routes will force them into the central paths.” Domonos pointed at non-circled lines. “It will slow how fast they can move people into the valley and give us time to deal with the leakers. Track them down with sparrows and kestrels, forcing them together for safety in numbers.”

  Zukal nodded.

  “If they’re charging forward and get deep into our territory, their supply lines will have to go farther than before.”

  “Blow the rest stop locations?”

  “I think so. We’ll only get one chance to do it. From then on, we’ll have to do harassing attacks on their supply lines. They’re already feeling the pinch after losing supplies in the last operation.”

  “Anyone’s bound to feel it when that much armor, ammunition, and mana stones are destroyed,” Zukal said.

  “Send the order. Blow the rest stops. Pass orders to Kanoa to have the aerial forces harass the supply lines. They won’t have the coverage or the protection of the front lines.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Rugrat grabbed the shell from the second ammunition bearer. The formation plate lit up as mana flexed in the air, dashing into the mortar shell as the spell completed in less than a second. He passed the shell to the first ammunition bearer who grabbed it and released it down the tube, then ducked as Rugrat got another shell, casting Explosive Shot on it.

  The mortar pounded into the dirt with a tinny metal noise and a blast of hot air.

  Rugrat passed the new shell to the first ammunition bearer as the gunner worked the traversing gear and the elevating gear with quick, professional movements before bracing the front bipod legs.

  The ammunition bearer hung the massive mortar shell, longer than his arm and as thick as his leg, before releasing.

  There was no time to think as they operated as one machine, feeding the metal beast.

  “Rounds complete! Rounds complete! Shift one-one-five-one!” the mortar team leader yelled.

  “Shift one-one-five-one!” the gunner repeated as he adjusted and checked the sight.

  “Five rounds. H.E. Double charge!” the team leader said.

  “Five rounds. H.E. Double charge!” the second ammunition bearer yelled back, pulling out rounds from his storage ring and tearing off secondary charges.

  “Bunker bust spell!”

  “Bunker bust spell!” Rugrat yelled back, casting the piercing shot spell. “Ready.”

  “Ready!” the gunner yelled.

  The assistant gunner passed the first shell to Rugrat.

  The mana fluctuated as his spell overlaid the formations carved into the shell before he handed it to the first ammunition bearer. “Fire when ready!”

  The first ammunition bearer released and dropped. Rugrat cast the spell on the second shell and passed it to him.

  They repeated the process again and again.

  “Target destroyed. Shift fire!”

  Rugrat felt the waves of mortar fire from the dozen or so mortar pits on the mountain side.

  “Artillery line Alpha is pulling back to the rear. Be ready to move if necessary!” Second Lieutenant Couto's voice rang out.

  “New targets!” the Staff Sergeant yelled, focusing the mortar team. “Target pre-set Foxtrot. T-D rounds and T shells!”

  31

  Adapt and Overcome

  Captain Wazny checked on the rest of his sparrow wing. Early morning had turned into midday. “Follow me in!”

  His sparrow tilted downward. The formations in his goggles activated to keep them clear of mist as he broke through the clouds. Below lay the forest. In their rush, the sects had made it into the forests of Vuzgal Valley. Confusion had made them spread out. Their convoys—a black snake filled with war beasts, fighters, and supply wagons—were trying to claw their way through the wilds.

  The life detect formation in Wazny’s goggles lit up with the thousands of fighters just beneath the canopy. With that many trees and chaotic terrain, there was no way they could use their mana barriers.

  He lined up his sights on the convoy and pulled on the trigger. His wooden cockpit shook as the two modified heavy repeaters under his sparrow’s wings and along her body unleashed destruction.

  Leaves and branches turned into splinters as the explosive bolts carved a path into the trees below.

  His wing, seven strong, was spread out in an arrowhead formation. Their fire raked the canopy, destroying trees and tearing apart the fighters hidden underneath.

  “Leveling off!” Wazny looked through a looking glass, which had carved lines to range bomb drops.

  “Bomb drop!”

  He opened his storage ring. Streams of bombs dropped from the sparrows.

  Arrows and spells tried to respond, appearing randomly in the air.

  “Break!” Wazny guided his beast and stopped dropping bombs.


  The wing of seven split into two groups, four banking left and three banking right as their sparrows regained altitude.

  The bombs struck the ground. Explosions shook the sparrows even from their height of several hundred meters and well past the drop zones. Fifty-meter-wide areas were cleared of fighters, carts, beasts, and underbrush.

  Fireballs spread across the ground as the incendiaries went off.

  Wazny grunted against the force of his sparrow as they banked in the direction they had come from.

  He was in the lead. Two other sparrows were with him, moving into arrowhead formation once again. The four that had banked to the left flew away from them and along the enemy lines of advance.

  His voice cut into their communication devices. “Bombing only!”

  He looked through the bombing sight, seeing the fighters through the thick tree cover. “Release!”

  He once again activated the storage ring. Bombs tumbled out, one after another. Their fins grabbed the air, positioning them as their formations glowed with destructive power, called down to exact vengeance upon the ground below.

  Wazny saw the impacts before he heard them through the tearing wind that whistled through his cockpit.

  The bombs spread out, not impacting one after another.

  “Cut speed!” They slowed, their blast radius nearly overlapping one another.

  Wazny glanced at the path of destruction they had left. The forest turned into a broken trail, with fires rapidly spreading throughout.

  “Sparrow Wing One-Three, group up on wing leader. We’re heading northeast.”

  Marco Tolentino didn’t look over at the sound of another trap formation going off. The rivers, woods, mountains, and the roads were filled with trap formations and spell traps. Not even Leonia was cracking jokes anymore.

  While weaker than they might be in the higher realms, the traps wore on the fighters' minds and could be hidden anywhere. They were smaller than a palm but had the power to kill dozens of fighters in their range.

  It was one of the things Marco was thankful of, fighting in a mana sparse realm.