Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1)

by Grayson Sinclair

  Sophia took her own life. There would be no coming back for her.

  Lonny blamed me for her suicide, and I couldn’t even defend myself. Not then.

  I paced the confines of my cell. Trying to think up a way out of here. Without Lonny’s help, no way I’m getting out of here. And now, he’ll probably try and obstruct my release, just to spite me.

  Eris would pay for my past sins. Would pay the too-high price Lonny forced on her, sold to Magnus or someone even worse to be abused and discarded. No, I won’t let that happen.

  With each circle I made in the cramped cell, I grew more and more desperate. Through our connection, I knew she was still unconscious, but she could wake up at any moment, and I didn’t want her to be alone when that happened.

  She’d never voiced it, but she was terrified of being alone. Scarred by her time in the abyss. That thought alone sent waves of hatred and self-loathing through me. I failed her. Put my revenge and bloodlust ahead of her safety. I tortured Phineas because I wanted to, as much as I wanted information.

  Eris is going to pay for my failures.

  “Fuck that!” Never again will someone I love pay for my actions!

  I promised Eris I’d protect her, and by the nine kings of Hell, I was going to keep that promise. I dug out my lockpick set from my Inventory. My rake and tension wrench would make short work of the flimsy lock on the cage.

  Jailbreaking from the inside was a new experience, and working the tumblers from the opposite side meant I seized up the pins more than once. After a few minutes of raking and failing, to try again and again, I managed to set the final pin.

  Only to receive a couple of hundred volts of electricity shooting through me.

  I locked up and dropped like a stone to the floor, unable to control myself as the electricity surged into me and spasmed through my muscles. I cursed when I could finally move again.

  My wrench and pick had fallen out of the lock and slid against the wall out of reach. Should have figured it was trapped. My own damn fault for not thinking ahead. Eris has my head out of whack. Even though I figured it would go the same way as the lock, I pulled out a teleportation scroll and attempted to use it.

  A bright purple Script circle appeared above me on the roof of the cell, shredding the scroll as it activated. Nullification magic, of course. That meant this was a cell built to house players. Expensive and annoying. Which meant my options were limited.

  I resorted to brute force as my last resort, kicking the iron gate with all my strength. After a few well-placed kicks, I found myself making a lot of noise and getting nowhere. A few more halfhearted kicks before the vibrations started to hurt. This is wasting time.

  A nudge brushed my subconscious—an itch in the back of my head. Eris was awake and was wondering where I was. She tugged on our connection, making sure I was alive. I couldn’t communicate with her, but I knew she was worried about me, and herself. Her emotions rose when she found herself alone, but she was fighting to stay strong. Trying not to let herself cry.

  “Damn it!” I screamed and slammed my fist into the side of the wall. Right where the small crack was leaking water. It crumbled, just slightly where my fist struck it. I’ll tear this whole fucking jail apart if I have to. Nothing is going to stand in my way!

  Utterly consumed with rage, I ignored everything, even the damage I was doing to my hand, and smashed my fist into the again and again. Leaving smears of blood and scraps of skin along the cracks and not getting anywhere.

  “Allow me to help,” the Aspect whispered.

  I ignored the sibilant voice, but when I went to hit the wall again, my fist was encased in hard chitin. Cracks and chips started sloughing off the stone. With each hit, more crumbled under my fury. The wall weakened until daylight poured through the large cracks I’d made, bathing me in soft sunlight. Soon a fist-sized hole was through the two-foot-thick stone wall.

  I’m not done yet!

  With even more renewed determination, I reduced the entire wall to rubble in a few short minutes. When the hole was large enough, I bolted through it in a flash and raced as fast as I could to the auction house.

  Chapter 24 - The Auction House

  The first few streets were the worst. I was sure that Lonny and his goons were about to round the corner and chase after me, that it had my nerves shot to hell.

  I kept my head low as I pushed through the throng of people, customers and merchants were everywhere as they bought and sold by the thousands. My pace was as fast as it could be and slow enough that I wouldn’t attract attention or run headlong into someone.

  Soon as I could, I got off the main streets and took back alleys. I turned down a particularly decrepit side street and nearly ran over a couple who had let their passions overwhelm them and were locked in an embrace, kissing.

  I skirted around them, hopping over a sleeping bum in the process, and was nearly out of the alley when two guards walked past.

  I’d spotted them in time, but one turned their head as I ducked behind a trash bin. The thud of their boots stopped, and I heard a mumbled. “What was that?”

  The other guard stopped as well, slurring his words as he spoke to his comrade. “Why’d you stop?”

  “Thought I saw something.”

  A shove, followed by more slurring. “Well, go check it out then.”

  Heavy footsteps approached, and I held my breath, hoping they would stop and leave, but no such luck. They crept closer. A few feet from me now.

  Damn it, I don’t have time for this hide and seek bullshit.

  When the guard was within reach, I jumped out from behind the bin and brought the side of my palm to the unfortunate guard's neck. I held back, trying not to crush his windpipe, but put enough force behind it to bring him to his knees, breathless, to clutch his neck. I kneed him in the face, breaking his nose and sending him to the stone, unconscious.

  The drunk guard stumbled over his words in an attempt to shout while also drawing his weapon. He rushed me and stumbled, tripping over a rock and tumbling to the ground. I took two steps and kicked his teeth in before he had the chance to stand back up.

  What a waste of time. I stepped over the bleeding drunk and left the alley.

  The route to the auction house was clear after the scuffle with the guards. Pulling up the map to check my location, I waved away the blinking notification tab. I’ll deal with it later.

  I ducked through another back street and hopped the gate to the auction house. It was located in the Market District, but it looked as if it belonged in the Noble District. Where everything in the market squares felt cramped, with as many stalls squished together as possible. The road to the slave market was vacant and clean. Freshly paved stone and large red brick walls topped with wrought-iron spikes lined the entirety of the square.

  In the center stood the primary residence for the Slavers Association. It was called a house, but it was as extravagant as any high noble’s mansion.

  The palatial home was built of spotless white stone with matching marble columns. The dark oak shingles were trimmed in gold and accented the stone perfectly. Large windows on the second and third stories offered a brief glimpse of the ostentatious wealth that was present here—bedrooms and offices that held more gold and marble than a bank vault.

  I’d forgotten how profitable the business was. “Bah,” I muttered.

  The worst kind of blood money. To sell a being that has all the intelligence of a flesh and blood human, just because you don’t consider them real. Disgusting.

  Flanked on either side of the grand manor were two large warehouses. Built of sturdy wood, they’d stood the test of time, but were much worse for wear. Broken and rotten planks were scattered across the two buildings and detracted from the opulent house.

  As I walked into the courtyard, I was surrounded by even more wealth. People were busying about in the large square: rich men and women crowding each other to get a look at the wares.

  They all crowded around a makeshift
stage. The wood was of excellent quality, but the construction was clearly sub-par. It still dripped wood stain that was too thickly applied. A thud caught my attention as one of the wooden gates to the warehouses was forced open.

  Several large cages rolled out to rest near the stage as the massive crowd shuffled against each other to get a better look. Elves and dwarves were locked in the cages. Men, women, and even children. People whose only crime were being born differently and being unlucky enough to be caught outside of their respective kingdoms.

  I slipped through the crowd as quickly as I could and moved to get a better look at the faces of the slaves, studying each of the cages carefully.

  Eris wasn’t among the group currently for sale. I turned my gaze from them, feeling sadness and shame well up inside me. It's wrong to treat NPCs as slaves, but there's nothing I can do. Bad things happen to people who don’t deserve it. It's a harsh world we live in.

  As much as I despised slavery, I wouldn’t step in and stop it. I was a part of the problem. But I’m just one man. One man can’t change the world, and to believe otherwise is a fool's dream.

  No. I couldn’t help the slaves. My one and only priority was Eris. She came before all others, and I couldn’t right every wrong I came across. Yeah, maybe telling myself that will help me sleep at night.

  I ignored the slaves and focused on my surroundings. Watching the comings and goings of the number of guards that were scattered around, keeping an eye on the merchandise. There were four by the stage. Their hardened gaze fixed firmly on the cages, periodically glancing at the crowd to keep an eye on them, but it was clear what they were being paid to protect. But beyond those four, there were two more on each of the warehouses, standing by with compound bows at the ready.

  I can’t go waltzing through like I own the place. I’ll get tagged the moment I act out of the ordinary. With no clear plan of action coming to me, I settled in and waited for an opening.

  I stood out sharply compared to the rest of the crowd, all wearing expensive outfits and jewelry, while I was wearing my usual cotton shirt and pants, still filthy from being in jail and climbing through back alleys. I was getting a few sidelong looks from the people close to me, but the mercenaries hadn’t yet noticed me, so I quick-equipped my armor and sword. With my shabby clothes, I looked like exactly what I was—an outlier. Least with my gear, I’ll look like a warlord, or one of the bandit kings, instead of a homeless beggar.

  Nothing happened for a few minutes; the buyers all craned their necks to get an eye for the slaves. Dozens of whispered conversations broke out, each one talking about prices. The door to the auction house opened, and a man in a dapper white suit strolled out, his head shrouded by the large brimmed hat he wore on his head, but the shadows ended at his thin mustache and goatee.

  It was the same man I’d seen in the Mnemosyne without a doubt. Magnus.

  I gnashed my teeth, biting my tongue hard enough to bleed, just to keep from drawing my blade and rushing him. Wait! Eris comes first. She comes before all others.

  Magnus swept his hand to the first cage, where a stocky dwarven male resided. Built like the world's beefiest child, he stood maybe four feet if he was an inch, shirtless and stacked with more rippling muscle than any human could have managed. Dwarves were built for heavy labor, and it showed.

  The bidding started at a hundred gold coins and soon grew to nearly a thousand before being sold to a stoic faced woman with long mahogany hair in a stunning yellow dress.

  “Next up, is one for the gentlemen in the crowd,” Magnus spoke, his voice crooked and sharp, like broken piano wire.

  The slave that was rolled up was a beautiful elven woman. Even in the thin rags she was dressed in, her beauty could not be denied. Long golden hair covered her ears entirely, but she had the tall, elegant grace of the elves. That was as unmistakable as her thin pointed face and shallow cheekbones, which all too visibly gave away her race. Her blue eyes, while striking, were jaded and bitter. She knew the exact fate in store for her.

  The hungry, lustful looks from the men in the crowd made all too obvious the role they had in mind for the elven slave. Her gaze haunted me; it took away her ethereal beauty and made her far too human in my eyes. She looked up for a moment, and her eyes bored into my very soul.

  I averted my gaze; I didn’t want to see any more of that bottomless misery. I didn’t want to see the judgment in them, rightfully condemning me.

  I had kept my eye on the guards throughout the auction, but it didn’t seem like there was a good opening anywhere. I was about to risk it when a hand slipped through my arm. I looked over in confusion.

  A girl had sidled up to me and was leaning heavily on me. She was gorgeous, though something about her nagged at me. Everything about her screamed nobility. From the flowing black dress she wore to her expertly applied makeup and hair—all tailored to perfection. Her scarlet hair was done up atop her head and shimmered in the sunlight, giving the appearance of flames alight, but her emerald eyes sparkled with more compassion and intelligence than I expected to see of a noble.

  “Pardon,” she said with a smile, leaning over to whisper in my ear. “Follow me.”

  I was a second from jerking my hand back, but something about her stopped me. Everything about her told me she was nothing more than an arrogant noblewoman, but some ineffable quality about her made me hesitant to put her in that category. She was a lovely woman, but she didn’t seem conscious of it. Women who know they’re beautiful usually use their beauty as a weapon, and I’m not getting that from her.

  “Who are you?” I asked as she tugged on my arm.

  She gave me a knowing look and a smirk, hinting at the mischievous. It wasn’t sexual or evil, more like playfully devious. A smile meant for a partner in crime about to pull a big score, rather than a girl wearing a thousand gold outfit. I didn’t exactly know what to make of it, or her for that matter.

  When we were free from the crowd, I swiveled my head to see if anyone was looking, but everyone was staring at the stage. All eyes were on the elven girl, even the guards, such was her beauty.

  The stranger pulled me along and toward the back of the warehouse. There was a thin street between the building and the large brick wall. When we were out of sight from the stage. I stopped and pulled my hand back.

  “All right, spill. Who the hell are you?”

  She absently swiped at her spotless dress, brushing away imaginary dust. Her long, thin fingers sparkled with elegant jewelry and were capped with long black nails, resembling talons. “Angry, are we? Well, I suppose you have reason for it. I’m a friend, Duran.”

  “You know my name?”

  “I know many things. You may call me Morgan.”

  I jabbed a finger towards her, nearly touching the small golden amulet wrapped around her slender throat, a large ruby nestled in the center. The size of the gem alone was impressive, but it sparkled in the sun, casting blood-red light across her chest. “What do you want?”

  “I’m here to help you, of course. I’ve a vested interest in you and your bond mate.”

  “Eris! Where is she?”

  Morgan pointed a finger to the warehouse. “She’s in there, and you better hurry. You don’t have long before he returns.”

  With that, she left, walking back to the stage. Before she left my sight, she stopped and turned back to me. “Keep your wits in there, Duran, and keep her safe for me,” Morgan said, walking away with a chuckle.

  What the hell? Morgan walked around the corner with a final glance back as she disappeared from view.

  “Hey, wait!” I called, running after her, but when I rounded the corner to the square, she was gone. Where the hell did she go?

  I shook my head. What the hell am I doing? I could’ve slapped myself for getting so distracted at a time like this. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

  There wasn’t a door on this side of the warehouse, just a rugged ladder leading up to the roof. It might get me in faster, but with the
added risk of running into someone. The only people on the roof were the guards. I could try and blend in, act as if I belong. But I quickly discounted that idea—way too many unknowns.

  In truth, there were too many unknowns for this whole thing. I had no idea what I was walking into. A hundred different things could go wrong here, and if something could go wrong, it inevitably would. Keep my wits about me, eh?

  I skirted around the ladder and went looking for a door. I hated the narrow space between the warehouse and the tall brick fence that lined the property, didn’t like being so boxed in. It was just high enough that I couldn’t scale it easily or quickly, and the wrought-iron spikes that lined the top of it made that idea very dangerous to try.

  Rounding the second corner, I found a large sliding door meant to load and unload heavy cargo. I ducked right back around as several workers lifted large wooden boxes off a wagon and brought them into the storehouse. Peeking out again, I watched them for a minute or so. All of them were intent on their work, so they didn’t notice me, but it also didn’t allow me a way in without being seen.

  Short of marching in and slaughtering them all, I don’t have many options. That was the most drastic option, and I didn’t want to resort to it if I didn’t have to. Much as I hate slavery, it’s legal, and the heat that will come down on not just me, but Eris and even the guild, will be too much. The Merchants Guild would never let me live if I went against them.

  The direct route was out, so I backtracked to the ladder and climbed up to the roof. Despite looking like a rotten and crumbling mess, the ladder held and didn’t so much as creak as I ascended. I was on the roof in five seconds and stopped just before the lip, spying on the guards before I pulled myself up.

  Only one man was up on the roof, and I didn’t see the second one. There was nothing on the roof except for the guard and a raised doorway that led into the warehouse. Caution told me to wait, but the darkness in my heart demanded action, so I hopped up and silently as I could snuck the forty or so feet to the man. Who was too busy watching the slaves down below to notice the danger that was right behind him.