War God's Mantle: Ascension: A litRPG Adventure (The War God Saga Book 1)

by James Hunter

  When she said puritanical, it got me thinking. “Hey, Phoebe, why haven’t you hit on me? I don’t get the sense you’re in love with me at all.”

  Phoebe turned to face me and playfully tapped me on the nose. I’m an engineer. It’s in the job description. I have to figure shit out and fast. I knew right off you weren’t going to be lovey-dovey with us. Not like Ares. I wasn’t going to go after you unless you went after me. And it was clear that wasn’t in the cards. Hence, you have my undying love, my friendship, but my ambivalent romantic indifference. At least until you decide you want something more.

  I laughed at that. “Your ambivalent romantic indifference. Ha, funny. Actually, out of all the Amazons, you’re my type. Smart, quick with a quip, able to swear like a drunk sailor, and girl-next-door cute.”

  Her eyes turned sad for a minute. Sure, you love your women with a limp. You don’t have to pretend, my dude. I’m not as fun as Asteria or as beautiful as Myrina. She shrugged. I am what I am, and that’s okay.

  I gently squeezed her arm. “Phoebe, my dudette, you are amazing for who you are, and don’t ever think otherwise. Now let’s go build some badass eagle-riders, huh. We’re gonna get all Lord of the Rings up in this bitch.”

  Just as we prepared to head back into the forge, Asteria’s squid voice exploded inside my head. Greetings, weird man thing with far too few limbs. I have brought your toy to the beach. I will go and eat in the dark and the deep and will return anon.

  Phoebe winced—clearly, she’d heard the booming report as well. But as Asteria’s voice faded, the Rune-Caster broke out in a wide, shit-eating grin. I’d seen that look on the faces of plenty of Marines who were looking to cause trouble.

  Yes! She sent, a mischievous gleam in her eyes. Praxidike better invest in some Kevlar ’cause the shit I’m gonna build is gonna be napalm epic and fifty calibers of awesome. I need to get on this, ASAP—you think you can handle building the rest of the Amazons without me? I’ll send over Brontia if you need an extra hand.

  “Naw,” I replied, waving a hand through the air. “I’ve got this in the bag. I’ll handle this, you go do your thing. And if I really need you”—I tapped my temple—“you’re only a thought away.”

  I waved goodbye as Phoebe hustled away, then headed back into the inferno heat of the forge. No rest for the wicked.

  THIRTY-THREE

  Power Level

  It was just after sunrise when I used the last of my Essence to make my final Amazon—the Flame-Witch, Calla. I ground my palms into my eyes, trying to rub away the sleep as Antiope carted off my newly minted warrior.

  God was I tired. I wobbled on unsteady legs and glanced around the forge in a daze. Phoebe was going to murder me when she saw the mess. The place looked like an Oklahoma trailer park after a twister had passed through: Hay was strewn about the floor. Smears of wet clay covered the walls. The tables were positively littered with bits of gold, silver, platinum, and even less savory things: vials of pollen, flower petals, animal fat, crushed seashells, and clumps of feathers.

  Honestly, though, I was just too tired to give a shit. I’d just handcrafted forty-six Amazonians, and it felt like it. I shuffled over to a clear patch of ground near the far wall and let out a groan as I sat down, legs sprawled out in front of me. I needed sleep. I leaned my head back, letting it rest against the wall, and was just on the verge of shutting my eyes when Myrina marched in, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed, looking just as fresh as the day I’d made her. Sometimes she was the absolute worst.

  The Battle Warden folded her arms and glowered at me before clearing her throat. “War God,” she said, “Antiope has informed me that you’ve finished crafting all of the recruits. There is still much work to be done yet, but I have taken the liberty of assembling our forces, so you might see the fruits of your labor. Our warriors stand ready to display their prowess for you, and then I am anxious to see these towers you mean to build.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed and never wanted to open them.

  Dammit, if I were at home, I would’ve saved at this point, gone to bed, slept, and come back ready to organize our final defenses. But at home, I didn’t have an Amazon general demanding that I keep playing. If I tried to argue for some sack time, Myrina would put her foot in my ass.

  I popped open my peepers. “Yes, Myrina, I agree. Let’s go take a look at the troops. As for the towers—those are going to have to wait. I don’t have the Essence for them, but we’ll get around to them, I swear. I also have a few other schemes in the works that will hopefully pay off.” I pushed myself upright, my body protesting. “But I’ll fill you in on that later. For now, the troops.”

  We left the forge and I saw the other Rune-Casters—Brontia, Steropia, and the newly created Pyracia—lifting up the five-barreled Gatling cannon and attaching it to one of the harvesters. The steam engine would not only drive the wheels, but at a glance I saw they’d improvised a steam-powered mount, which would give the gun its full range of motion. Badass squared. Next to the harvester, Phoebe was busy tinkering with a leather saddle attached to a pair of large brass tanks covered with gauges and copper tubing.

  I wanted to ask what they were doing, but Myrina hooked her arm through mine and pulled me along before I got the chance.

  I was overdosing on Mountain Dew, so I stopped and filled my canteen with water from the fountain. I was sipping on it when we got to the training grounds, situated next to the barracks. Even here, there was evidence of upgrades. The training grounds boasted several new features: there was a marble pad for drilling, a sand pit for fighting, and even a series of wooden obstacles erected not far off—some sort of agility course.

  Assembled on the stone pad were my warriors.

  Being in the military, I’d been forced to endure plenty of formation ceremonies, but this was by far the most impressive I’d ever seen. Myrina had broken the new warriors up into five platoons, with thirteen members each. Two platoons were straight infantry—Battle Wardens all the way—though they were equipped differently. One group wielded long spears and held impressive shields, perfect for forming a shield wall or a phalanx. The other group carried deadly katanas and English longbows, ideal for slicing and dicing or taking out targets at a distance.

  There was one platoon that looked like heavy cavalry, which was a mix of Battle Wardens with beefy battle-axes and maces and ground-mounted Beastiamancers—four bear riders and three bull riders. Interestingly, the bull riders would actually be able to merge with their mounts at higher levels, transforming into deadly Amazonian minotaurs. Now that would be something to see.

  Asteria grinned at me from in front of a full platoon of aerial Beastiamancers, half of which rode winged horses, while the other half sat astride gigantic eagles, each the size of a fucking hippo. I knew for a fact that Praxidike had a helluva lot of harpies, so this group would have their work cut out for them, but they seemed ready and eager for the challenge.

  The last group was incomplete. At a glance, it looked like the support platoon. It was obvious Phoebe and the Rune-Casters would go there, along with my Huntresses and Teleporters, all of which were currently missing—out performing a special job for me. What remained were my four Elementalists: two Water-Witches, a Flame-Witch, and an Air-Witch. I walked through the lines, quietly inspecting the ranks, before heading over to the Elementalists, all dressed in tunics and knee-high sandals.

  I’d powered them all up to level three, which had been a huge drain, but hopefully it would be worth the investment in the end. The Air-Witch could conjure cutting winds and hurl lightning from the heavens—a skill very similar to my Lightning Lance—while my Flame-Witch, Calla, could cast Burning Aura and shoot gouts of magical flame from the palms of her hands. Sabra, the Forest-Witch, was less battle-oriented, but she would keep our shelves well stocked with food, and could brew some wicked potions to boot.

  My Water-Witch was the real prize though. Her attack abilities were rather limited, and she was slow as all get out, but holy
shit could she take some damage. Huge Health bonuses, crazy Regen Rate, out-of-this-world armor rating, plus she could heal on touch. The spell wasn’t as effective as my version of Healing Touch, but it wasn’t too shabby either. I clapped Otrere, the Water-Witch, on the shoulder, then gave the rest of my elite Elementalists a tight-lipped smile.

  I wheeled around and cut through the ranks, stopping in front of my assembled army. My body was practically screaming sleep at the top of its lungs, but I ignored the pain and exhaustion rampaging through me. These women were going to fight and die for me—they were expecting a leader, and I couldn’t disappoint them.

  I drew my sword from my sheath, lifting it into the air, the blade sizzling with electric life. “Generals,” I barked out, my voice carrying in the morning air. “You’ve done well. I look out and I see victory. Our forces are mighty. Well trained. Disciplined. Willing to go the extra mile. Together, we will hold this city. We will protect the sigil.” I paused for dramatic effect, feeling a tad douchey, before carrying on. “And we will drown our enemies in their own blood!”

  All of my troops let out a war cry, weapons shooting into the air as a surge of energy washed through me. We could do this, dammit!

  While the Amazons cheered and hooted, I turned and headed away from the training ground, angling my way back toward the palace. Through the helmet, I contacted Myrina. Hey, so I have to sleep, just for a little bit. And I’m going to tell Phoebe to do the same. Don’t wake me until you hear from Loxo. The next part of my plan depends on her and the Teleporters. Got it?

  I didn’t hear her sigh through the messaging system, but I knew exactly what she was thinking. Jacob Merely, punking out.

  But instead of a cynical, cutting reply, she said, Yes, War God. Rest. You have worked hard and deserve it. We believe Praxidike will attack soon—tomorrow, perhaps—but in the meanwhile, I will continue to drill the troops and work on our defenses. I’ll also dispatch Asteria to guard you while you rest and send out the eagle riders to keep watch for enemy troop movement. Hopefully, they will spot Hades’ forces, but it is possible they will see nothing until it is too late. Praxidike hid her army from Loxo’s spying eyes—it is possible she might know secret underworld passageways.

  The idea that Praxidike could move her troops in secret complicated everything, but there was nothing I could do about that. For now, I needed to close my eyes and shut down for a few hours. Hopefully, I had hours. Thanks, Myrina. And keep up the good work, I replied, before closing the link. I got up to the palace and found my bed, oh, my bed. I slipped my helmet off, but didn’t bother to strip down the rest of the way before simply crashing down face-first into my pillow.

  I was out in an instant. Dead to the world, at least for the time being.

  It felt like I’d had my eyes closed for only the briefest moment when Asteria’s voice jarred me awake. “Hello, my cute little God of War,” she said, grinning down at me as she traced a nail across my cheek. “You were sleeping so well, I’m sorry to wake you, but Loxo has accomplished what you asked for. And the teleportation thingy is in place.”

  I shot up, suddenly awake, alert, and excited as hell. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to what was coming next, but if I was going to hang toe-to-toe with Praxidike—or Hades for that matter—I needed to personally level up, and I needed to do it fast. I swung my legs out over the edge of the bed and pulled on my helmet from the nightstand nearby. “Then what are we waiting for?” I said, staggering to my feet, then checking my gear: Canteen. Rucksack. Med-Kit. Everything was in place and ready to go. “Let’s move it. Can you get me down to the beach?”

  Asteria grinned at me, eyes flashing—just watch, that look said. Before I could take a breath, her arms bulged and lengthened, coarse blue hair sprouting as she became a beefy gorilla. She charged me on all fours, moving with a rolling gait, then picked me up and tossed me over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I was sprawled over her back in a fireman’s carry as she wheeled around and sprinted toward the terrace.

  When she reached the edge of the balcony, she lurched into the air, propelled by powerful legs, and suddenly we were falling straight down. But not for long. As we plunged toward the rocks below, Asteria shifted, simian body vanishing in exchange for the form of the winged horse, which I’d grown accustomed to. Ten feet before going splat on the ground, her great feathered wings pushed out, catching an ocean draft, and we landed softly on the sands.

  If I was asleep before, now I was wide awake—having a gorilla hurl you off a balcony is better than a whole pot of coffee.

  Waves crashed onto the white sands, and midafternoon sunlight glistened off the spray coating the rocks. The high white buildings of Lycastia City also gleamed. I scampered off Asteria’s back as she shifted back into human form, the wide grin still in place.

  “Maybe next time, you can just start out as a horse,” I said, hand shaky as I rested it on the War Blade’s pommel.

  “But where is the fun in that?” she asked, skipping over to a rock protruding from the sand. She primly sat, unconcerned by the fact that she was completely naked. Now that we’d slept together she seemed far less concerned with being dressed—I didn’t mind, though it was certainly distracting. The lady was definitely easy on the eyes. “Just let me know when you are ready,” Asteria said, “and I’ll have Loxo send over the first of the catch.”

  I muttered under my breath as I turned away and unsheathed my sword, taking a few practice swings to limber up and get my blood flowing. Not far off, there was a huge brazier burning—a brand-new addition—which sent a column of sweet smoke into the air. Time to grind some points. “Alright,” I said, mentally preparing myself for the fight to come. “I’m ready. Let’s do it.”

  A heartbeat later, a flickering purple flare erupted in the air, five feet to the right of the brazier. The abrupt stink of rotten eggs punched me squarely in the nose as one of my blonde Teleporters popped into view—Vara, though it was hard to tell. She wasn’t alone, though. Nope. She dumped the wriggling body of a naga, tightly bound in thick rope. She drew a wicked katana and cut through the ropes with a flick of the blade.

  Had I wanted to, I could’ve kept the creature tied up nice and tight, but the truth was, I needed the practice as much as I needed the experience.

  Vara gave me a dazzling smile, then disappeared again. Gone as quick as she’d come.

  The snake man whirled on me. “What trickery isss thisss?”

  “My master has to level up,” Asteria explained as she casually inspected her fingers, which were now tipped with grizzly claws. “And you are going to help.”

  “I will not!” the naga hissed in reply. “I will kill you both, ssso my massster, Hadesss, may walk this world, and all will tremble!”

  The snake man bared his fangs and leapt on me.

  He was unarmed, but his claws were weapon enough. One hand scratched at my breastplate—a distraction—while his other hand went for my face. The eye-gouge, an oldie but a goodie. I let my armor do its job, and batted away his strike with my free hand, before driving my sword through his belly. Rancid smoke curled up as the sword’s divine power charred his flesh on contact. The naga gasped, blood oozing from his lips as he collapsed in the sand by my feet.

  Dead.

  Experience points trickled in.

  Asteria slipped off the rock, padded over to the naga, and dragged his body aside. After she looted his corpse, she tossed the remains far out into the ocean.

  As soon as she finished the grisly work, another purple flash filled the air as my other Teleporter, Sophia, appeared. She deposited a snared spider pig, cut the thing free with her blade, and then teleported away with a smile.

  The arachnaswine scuttled over the sand toward me. This one was already badly hurt, its poisonous tusks sheared off, rendering it mostly harmless. I hacked off two hairy legs before stabbing the spider pig right through the snout. Down it went, as dead as the naga before it. More experience points rolled in as Asteria repeated her pro
cess: loot and destroy.

  “Let’s keep this train a-rolling,” I said, nodding at Asteria as I clenched my sword tighter.

  And so, the grinding commenced in earnest.

  For the next several hours, I hacked and slashed my way through a never-ending conveyor belt of monsters. Nagas, arachnaswine, sea centaurs. Loxo and my new Huntress, Hava, had spent the last twelve hours prowling the jungles, corralling enemies for me to kill. And there were a fucking ton of them. They’d built a pen far outside of the city walls, and from there, the Teleporters simply ferried the monsters in using the blazing bonfire as a locator beacon.

  Easy-peasy, and the whole while my experience points just climbed and climbed and climbed.

  By the time I’d cleared out the holding pit, the sand was soaked with blood and gore. Unfortunately, the sand wasn’t the only thing soaked in blood—I was covered from head to foot like a fresh coat of paint. And to top it off, I smelled like a rotting carcass. Super-duper gross. Fighting the creatures one-on-one wasn’t much of a challenge, especially since they were unarmed, but I’d fought a lot of them. And quantity can have its own quality.

  It had been worth it, however. I’d earned four levels, bringing me up to fifteen. Not too shabby, and best of all, I could repeat this process with ease.

  I stripped down, cleaned my gear, then waded into the waters to wash off the grime and blood. Asteria joined me, though as a dolphin instead of a human. Go figure. She splashed around deeper out, squeaking at me before flipping through the air, tail and flippers flashing in the light. I mostly ignored her, enjoying the warm surf as I dished out my new allotment of Attribute Points. I incrementally increased my Fortune and Strength, then dumped five points into my Willpower—upping my control limit to seventy-nine—and dropped the rest into Intelligence.