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

by Michael Chatfield

Erik laughed.

  “Fuck, well good thing you’ve got some time to practice.”

  Rugrat spotted Qin, Tanya, and Tan Xue sharing a table in the cafeteria, and altered his path to sit next to Qin.

  “Hey,” she said, stifling a yawn as she went back to her food.

  “How you all doing?” he asked. They looked exhausted.

  “Tired. We’ve been running around repairing what the Sects are breaking,” Tan Xue said.

  “You sleeping at all?”

  “Here and there. Just a lot of work to be done,” Tan Xue admitted. “All the students that call Vuzgal home and nearly all the teachers stayed behind. We’ve been throwing ourselves into work.”

  “Where’s Julilah at?”

  “She headed down to the First Realm again. Don’t want to have the two of us together. Redundancy,” Qin said.

  Rugrat grimaced but nodded, scooping up his potatoes and vegetables.

  “It’s led to a massive number of upgrades and a lot of new ideas. Now the crafters are seeing not just their abilities used in the real world, but the effect of what they’ve created,” Tan Xue told him.

  “All of this wouldn’t be possible without everyone working together.” Rugrat waved with his spoon at the bunker complex they were entombed in.

  “What about the Adventurer’s Guild, the Wayside Inns, and Sky Reaching Restaurants?” Tanya asked.

  “The Adventurer’s Guild is in our backup dungeons training. Blaze and Jasper will be telling them some of the truth. That they’re not just another guild with no backing and have connections to Vuzgal. Not the full truth, but close enough,” Rugrat said.

  “The Wayside Inns and the Sky Reaching Restaurants have a lot of people working in them who aren’t Alvan. A few of our people are still operating them. They are a core part of the intelligence department and they generate a massive amount of income. They’ve been able to keep everything operating during this time,” Tan Xue said. “Is the fighting in the First Realm going well?”

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” Rugrat asked.

  Qin gave him a side-look as she ate her food.

  Rugrat smiled and cleared his throat. “We won. Took over the forces that attacked us and bound them up with contracts. The Willful Institute ran off. They’re too busy attacking sects in the Second and Third Realms. They’ve reclaimed ten cities and captured six more. Gathered more support. They look to be coming out of this stronger than before.”

  “Isn’t the Adventurer’s Guild fighting them?” Tan Xue asked.

  “We pulled them back so they wouldn’t get stuck in the middle. Right now, the lower realms are getting stirred up; peace is crumbling.”

  “Won’t we have to deal with that as well?”

  “Everything with time. Have to deal with our current problems first,” Rugrat reminded them.

  “Won’t the Alchemist Association tell them to stop fighting in the third realm?”

  “As long as the associations are left out of it, the rest of us can fight as much as we want.” Rugrat tried to keep his disgust out of his face. From their expressions, he’d failed.

  “They keep things stable for the most part,” Qin said softly.

  “I know, reminds me this place isn’t like Earth.”

  “No, on Earth, people don’t wage wars because everyone has weapons that could wipe out all life,” Tanya said.

  “Created the longest period of peace.”

  “They just found how to fight one another without weapons. Money, position, and other nations without those weapons,” Tanya said. “The associations are the Ten Realms’ Nukes and the treaties that kept Earth tied together.”

  Rugrat didn’t really see it that way, hoping it was just because people were decent instead of scared that they would get wiped out.

  “While I’m angry with them, I can’t deny that they do look out for their own people. That shows there’s some good in them.”

  Marco finished outlining his plan of attack and stood up straight, looking at the army commanders that ringed the map.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this plan earlier. Vuzgal has a powerful ability to find out what we are doing. I didn’t even tell my own people. The testing attacks I’ve had your people carry out over the last several weeks have been to test our mana barriers, tactics, and scout the ground for the best routes through the obstacles ahead of us. Now we have accumulated the knowledge, weapons, and the forces that we need to act.”

  “The plan is simple but thorough, using our regular testing attacks as a lead-up to the true attack. What I don’t understand is why we didn’t siege them beforehand?” a severe-looking commander asked.

  “We’ve tested their mana barrier with our cannons and different ranged siege weapons. Vuzgal’s barrier formation is one of the strongest I have ever seen, and they have the mana stones required to power it.”

  “Our crafters studied it. They believe the formation has reached the level where it uses the external mana of the area to reinforce itself. It’s completely balanced in the environment it lays in,” another commander added.

  “Attacking the barrier would be a waste of our resources. We must get past their barriers to inflict casualties,” Hae Woo-Sung said, backing up Marco.

  “We haven’t tested their aerial capabilities yet. We know that they have them from the advance, but we haven’t engaged them head-on,” another commander said.

  “We will have one test attack in the air. Your people better learn fast,” Marco informed them.

  The different commanders looked at the map and markings, trying to picture it all.

  “We have much to do to make sure that everything works. Let’s get to work. Vuzgal awaits us, ladies and gentlemen.” Marco turned and left the room with the Willful Institute’s master teachers at his back.

  The room shifted as commanders talked to one another or headed off to pass on orders.

  “What do you think our odds are?” Feng Dan asked once the door to the private suite was secured.

  “Eighty percent if we catch them off guard. I know there is more in those defensive buildings, but they only have a few thousand fighters. They can’t cover the entire city. Even if we can take over the skies, we can’t take out their defensive structures. But we can fly our fighters in to create chaos in their rear. We must control the skies, or this plan will fall apart. The ground forces are there to lock up their people into defending.”

  “Well, we have four hours to prepare. We shouldn’t waste it.” Onam scratched the right side of his scalp before running his hand through his mohawk.

  Acosta checked her watch.

  “Come on! The enemy is eight hundred meters and closing. They’re from the Fourth Realm. They can reach you in a few minutes!” Sirel yelled as the reserve mortar team worked to bring the gun to the ready.

  “Hang!” the team leader yelled as the ammunition bearer held a dud round above the barrel of the mortar.

  Acosta checked the time, watching the other two teams finish at nearly the same time.

  Sirel walked over.

  “A minute and a minute and a half,” she said into his ear.

  “You want to, or want me to?”

  “I’ll take a crack at it.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Sirel turned back, all the heat directed at the gun teams who were looking at him and Acosta nervously.

  “Stand by your guns!” Acosta yelled, holding her hands behind her as she walked in front of the guns.

  They assembled, twitching nervously.

  “It is the role of the artillery platoon to support the actions of units in the field. We are not on the front line, but that does not make our job any less vital. If you are on the frontline, the support we provide can mean the difference between life and death! This practice will hone what you were taught in basic training. Make sure that you pay attention.”

  Her expression twisted as she stopped walking and turned to face them all; her eyes scanned them.
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  “You all did well in your training. You earned the right to be here. But that does not give you the right to strut around and be assholes now. Yes, there is inter-unit rivalry, which can be healthy and lead to lasting bonds between one another. Being an asshole just means you’re an asshole.” She didn’t single out anyone but saw eyes turning toward a few among their ranks.

  “As a reservist, you have learned one job, one task: how to be a member of an artillery platoon. It takes a lot of resources and time for people to get to this position in the regular force.” Her tone was conversational, disappointed even. “To reach this same stage in the reg force, if they had come in early, they might have just taken the same course as you. But they trained in other roles before they were allowed to progress. For organizational reasons, you have been given the rank of Specialist Corporals and Specialist Sergeants.

  “Your training is specialized, more advanced than what riflemen and scouts would learn, yes. But—” The word came out like falling bricks “—You do not have the training or experience of people in the reg force who have earned the true rank. A sergeant has done the training of rifleman, scout, mortar team and mage! You can give him a compass and he can cross a continent. Give him a rifle and he’ll take your nose hair off at five hundred meters. Give him a mortar and he can run the entire damn thing by himself, if you give him coordinates. He can call down the power of the Ten Realms and sow destruction. He can also lead a squad of riflemen and scouts, be a second-in-command of a mortar squad and team leader of a three-man mortar team.”

  Silence fell in the bunker.

  “Respect the men and women around you. That is what the rank is for, to show that you have earned the respect of others. That others put you forward for a promotion based upon your skills. Do not use it against others! If someone is out of line, deal with them. If you are having a fucking pissing contest...” Acosta’s expression made some shoulders rise. “I will personally take you through every damn qualification course to adjust your damn mindset so you will know what it is to not just earn your qualification but your rank.”

  The silence was deafening.

  “You are good at mortars, but you are not yet the best, so we will make you the best. We are Alvans and we produce the best. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir!” The bunker rang.

  “Good.”

  The siren went off.

  “Stand to!” Sirel yelled. “Looks like we’ll be putting your skills to the test for real today!”

  “I’m heading to command,” Acosta yelled to Sirel.

  “Yes, sir!”

  Acosta ran out of the rear of the bunker, opening and closing the thick metal bunker door.

  She ran down the stairs and into the tunnels. Other people were rushing back and forth, running up the stairs to their assigned bunkers.

  The tunnels were numbered, marking their grid location, but they were thrown together like someone had tossed wooden beams on the ground in no semblance of order.

  She ran up the right side of the stairs to the command center, two at a time.

  “Make a hole!” she yelled, hearing people coming down.

  She passed members of her platoon who rushed down the stairs behind her. She opened the bunker’s sealed door to see the remains of a card game and a book turned over in the ready room.

  She closed the door and entered the command center.

  “Report!” she yelled, feeling her heartbeat starting to calm down.

  “They’re gathering forces for another test.” Staff Sergeant Neumann stepped away from the periscope.

  She put her eyes to it, seeing the forces pouring out of the main camp as well as secondary camps four and six on either side.

  “We’ve got movement in all the camps coming out to watch.”

  “Twisted pricks, aren’t they?” Acosta muttered. She looked at the other camps. Fighters moved to the walls to watch.

  “Learn what worked and what didn’t,” Neumann said.

  Acosta grunted.

  “Have all guns readied and checked. Make sure that they’re set. I want to be the first with effective rounds on target.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Acosta let the periscope go and went into the right observation room. The enclosed room looked out over the defenses through a slit in the wall. Mounted viewing glasses and a mount for a repeater were the only things in the room.

  The mounted viewing glasses gave her a greater field of view. She studied the different camps before peering out through the slit at the other bunkers. She couldn’t see into the darkness. Special formations made it hard to see in but were fine to look out.

  She sighed, gathering herself and clearing her mind. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  She took another glance at the enemy formations before walking back inside.

  “Okay, looks to me like the secondary camps are going to rally up on the main camp units before they attempt the soup.”

  “Agreed,” Neumann said.

  “In ten minutes, if there is no change or they are just advancing, we’ll step down to seventy-five percent. We have a threat assessment from higher?”

  “No change.”

  “Stand-to,” Niemm said.

  Rugrat stood and stretched.

  “How goes the world?” He approached Niemm, who was watching the oncoming enemy through binos.

  “They just made it through the soup.” Niemm held out the binos.

  “Yup, right down what was the road. Gonna be a bitch to fix that,” Rugrat grumbled.

  “The path behind them, the mages, aren’t they a bit spread out?”

  Rugrat watched the trailing mages who had the job of keeping the ground clear of traps and solid for the withdrawal.

  “Hmm, yeah.” Rugrat focused the binos more. “Their mana barriers are some of the stronger ones. Pain in the ass to crack and we only get one person. Whoever is leading this is… What are you doing?”

  Rugrat looked at a mage as a trap spell, away from the path they had taken into the soup went off.

  He studied more, watching the mages. His frown turned grim. “Niemm, you good to relay a message to higher?”

  “Ready.”

  “Mages are thicker along the road. They are pushing out to either side, expanding it to much larger than what they had before.”

  “Message sent. What are you thinking, boss?”

  Rugrat lowered the binos. “I’m wondering why they need so much space.”

  “You think this is it?”

  “A real attack? We’ll have to watch and wait.”

  Rugrat passed the binos back and pulled out his own as he whistled.

  George was lying on the roof in his small form and glanced around blearily before Rugrat whistled again. He bounded off the roof. His wings snapped out as he wheeled around and landed on the railing Rugrat and Niemm were leaning on.

  Rugrat watched and waited.

  “Pushing pretty aggressively into Scarecrow, aren’t they?” Rugrat asked.

  “Seems they brought a lot of mages and people with fighting techniques to cut that deep in.”

  Attacks were raining down on the enemy barriers, making them flare with mortar and cannon fire. At the same time, the mages and fighters inside the barrier were attacking the defenses, cutting up the wire and posts that would explode randomly. Once they cleared around the barrier, they advanced.

  A barrier faltered and failed. Some turned and ran, activating secondary barriers.

  “I hate how quick they’re getting at doing that shit,” Rugrat muttered.

  Mortar and cannon fire killed some and savaged the bridges.

  Another barrier started to fail, and they threw up a second mana barrier before the first could collapse completely.

  “Victor Zero Actual to all command units, be advised movement has been spotted at Parrot City and Bird’s Nest. Prepare fire plan Bravo. I say again…” Domonos repeated his message.

  Rugrat glanced at Parrot City. Towers had risen out
of the camps with the arrival of more aerial forces. They filled with activity as a group took off from the different towers.

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this,” Rugrat admitted.

  “You and me both, boss. Get your gear ready!” Niemm yelled to the team.

  Rugrat looked over to the air force’s bases. The sparrows were ready and waiting in their hangars. Locked and loaded.

  Close protection detail members moved to mount positions around the tower, ready to pull out their repeaters and mount them if needed.

  “They’re banking!” Niemm said.

  The enemy aerial mounts turned in their groups toward Vuzgal. They flew along the mountains so the bunkers couldn’t see them.

  Sparrows rushed out of their hangars and over the formations, shooting up into the air in their formations. They circled as the first wing of eight turned into three wings, then five and nine.

  Kestrels launched, patrolling Vuzgal.

  “This is Victor Zero Actual. Fire Plan Bravo activated!” Domonos barked.

  Rugrat pulled out a repeater as Niemm pulled off the weather cap on the mount.

  Rugrat lowered it. Niemm made sure it lined up with the mount, and secured them with locking pins.

  “Good! You’re secure!”

  Rugrat grabbed the charging lever and pulled back on it, looking through the aiming reticule as he swiveled from side to side.

  “Good!”

  All around the tower, repeaters were mounted and aimed into the skies.

  The team moved to the covered stone balcony or went up to the roof, where more gun nests had been set up with clear views over the city.

  Rugrat tracked the group coming in from Parrot City.

  Too far for me to be sure.

  “Niemm, keep a watch on those pricks down in Scarecrow.” He cast air shot through the transfer plate to the bolts.

  “On it!”

  The aerial forces crossed through Vuzgal’s mana barrier, unleashing attack after attack on the bunkers. Their own mana barriers easily dealt with the attacks.

  Tower gunners fired, tracers weaving lines that exploded into black puffs of shrapnel.

  Their fire halted as the sparrow wings dove, scattering the aerial forces as they tried to evade. The Sparrow wings side-mounted repeaters left black streaks across the sky, exploding flak rounds—modified air shot spells spraying out hundreds of air blades—raked the sect’s aerial mounts, cutting them from the sky.