Viridian Gate Online: The Lich Priest: A litRPG Adventure (The Viridian Gate Archives Book 5)

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Viridian Gate Online: The Lich Priest: A litRPG Adventure (The Viridian Gate Archives Book 5) Page 27

by James Hunter


  The Lich Priest ghosted toward me on silent feet, the humor gone from his face, his lips pulled back in a snarl. “I would choose your words very carefully, False Champion,” he snarled, voice a low rasp. “You might think that death is the worst thing that can befall you, but you are wrong. Perhaps you would like to see what it’s like to be locked away in the Burning Expanse for a thousand years?”

  “Spoken like the spineless weakling you are,” I said, offering him a cocksure grin. “All bark, no bite. You hide behind others. You compel those more capable than you to fight on your behalf. When Serth-Rog showed up during the Nightmare Wars, you betrayed your calling because you were afraid. Sure, you justified it—saying it was in the name of Order—but in reality, you were just trying to save your own skin. Or …” I paused and cocked an eyebrow. “You can prove me wrong right here, right now. Wars are ugly things, I’m sure you’ll agree. They are chaotic and full of disorder. No one wants that. Not when we can settle this one-on-one. Or do you think you’re not up to the challenge, Imposter?”

  “I am going to crush your skull in my teeth,” he growled. “And then I will enslave your pathetic army to the will of Order. Prepare to fight. To die.” He whirled on a heel and disappeared again, reappearing a moment later in the center of the valley. “Let us see who is worthy of the champion’s mantle!” he called out, his voice guttural and inhuman. He raised his club high, thrusting it straight up like a lightning rod, and unleashed the familiar wave of green light. The Lich Priest vanished, swallowed by a geyser of burning lava, which rose higher, higher, higher.

  In a blink, the man was gone and only the massive Flame Hydra remained. Seven stories of death and destruction with seven swaying heads, perched upon monstrous squat legs each as thick as a subway car. “Come then, Usurper!” the creature boomed. “Come and find your doom.”

  I lurched into motion with a war cry, sprinting toward him as I raised my hammer high. My boots thudded against the dusty earth, small puffs of dirt billowing up with each step as I triggered my new Avatar of Order ability. Power swelled inside me, hot and terrible. Magma burned through my veins, shooting down my arms and legs with every beat of my heart, while terrible pressure built inside my head. My stomach clenched, railroad spikes of pain exploded in my joints, and a whirlwind of razor blades seemed to flay me alive.

  I’d died a couple of times since coming to V.G.O., but the most painful had been when the Spider Queen had ripped open my chest, perforated my lungs, and slashed through all my internal organs before ripping my throat out with her teeth.

  But this? This was worse.

  Some part of my pain-addled brain insisted I drop to the ground and curl into a ball, but another part of me screamed in defiance. In resistance. That was the part of me that refused to give up, to bow to Osmark, to let Carrera and his overlord win. And that part—small and angry and as fierce as Ari the Berserker Pixy—forced me to keep running, to keep moving through the pain as purple smoke swirled around me in a blinding maelstrom.

  Step, inhale. My muscles squealed in agony as they bulged and grew, my skin falling away, replaced by sleek purple-black scales, identical to Devil’s.

  Step, exhale. My fingers swelled, my gunmetal gray nails popping free as wicked ebony talons erupted along each tip.

  Step, inhale. My shoulder blades writhed and wriggled as new appendages ruptured outward, unfurling into leather wings.

  Step, exhale. My mouth stretched and elongated, forming a scale-slick muzzle full of far too many teeth.

  Step, inhale. The pain vanished, replaced by raw power and incredible strength.

  The smoke cloud dissipated around me as I kicked my legs into overdrive and bolted into the open …

  I was only a hundred feet from Vox, the Flame Hydra, but I was a very different creature than I’d been only moments before. The old Jack was gone, replaced and transformed by this strange dragon-hybrid monster I’d become. I stood twenty feet tall now—still only a third the size of Hydra-Vox, but not too shabby—though surprisingly my armor and weapons had grown with me, my warhammer alone nearly ten feet long, the hammerhead the size of a truck tire. I could see like a hawk, my ears were sharp enough to pick up the gasps of surprise from my crew, and my nose was keen enough to smell the bead of fear wafting up from Vox.

  “You wanted a piece of me,” I snarled, my voice as guttural and inhuman as Vox’s had become, “then come and get some.”

  Vox responded with a ground-shaking howl. A visible shock wave exploded out, rippling through the air in a ring that slapped into my chest, biting off a chunk of my HP then slamming a debuff on my head—one meant to cripple me before the fight had even started.

  <<<>>>

  Debuffs Added

  Paralyzing Fear: You are temporarily immobilized by fear! You cannot move or cast spells. Duration, 1 minute.

  <<<>>>

  I quickly scanned the message, then grinned. I’d seen this skill before—many of the Vogthar bosses had it on standby—but as a Shadowmancer, I was immune. A heartbeat later another combat notification appeared, replacing the first message:

  <<<>>>

  You resisted Paralyzing Fear! All Maa-Tál are immune to Morale Failure and Fear-based debuffs!

  <<<>>>

  “That ain’t gonna work against me, Vox!” I thundered in reply, dismissing the notice with a flick of one claw-tipped hand.

  “Neat trick, Imposter,” Vox hissed while four of his swaying heads lurched forward, spewing balls of magma my way. On instinct, I whipped forward one hand, conjuring Dark Shield with a thought … Except I didn’t have access to Dark Shield. I didn’t have access to any of my normal Shadowmancer Skills. So, it came as something of a shock when a wall of brilliant pearl light, twenty feet by ten, burst to life in front of me, intercepting the quartet of fireballs. The shimmering shield held as the magma balls detonated with enough force to rock me back on my heels.

  Hell yeah. So maybe I couldn’t use my Shadowmancer abilities, but I had a few new tricks up my sleeve. Including a spell called Pulse Shield.

  In the corner of my eye a pop-up appeared: Pulse Shield: 2/3. Apparently, unlike the rest of my spells and abilities, which used either Spirit or Stamina, these had a limited number of charges.

  I’d have to be extra careful, then. That probably also meant I’d end up slugging it out with Vox in the end. That was fine, though. I felt like a million dollars, and surprisingly I really wanted to punch the Lich Priest’s teeth in the good ol’ fashioned way. I leapt forward, my wings thrusting down, giving me an extra boost to cover the distance. Vox was still significantly taller than me, but I came down on him like an avenging angel, my warhammer whipping through the air in a wicked arc.

  My weapon smacked into the one of the Hydra’s swaying heads with a burst of violet shadow energy. Chips of obsidian and great globs of lava exploded outward as the colossal creature staggered and reeled, his huge serpentine feet rocking the earth as he fought for balance. I relentlessly pressed in, darting forward as I thrust the brutal top spike—now as long as a short sword—deep into the center neck, slicing through another small fraction of Vox’s HP. I pulled the spike free with a jerk and bolted right, dropping the weapon low and bringing it up in a brutal undercut that should’ve launched Hydra-Vox into the stratosphere.

  Unfortunately, Vox was ready for me this time, and though he was enormous, he was awfully quick when he wanted to be. A swaying head struck like lightning, latching around the shaft of the hammer and yanking it from my hands while a second head shot in, sinking fiery fangs into my left shoulder. My HP lurched, dropping below 90% while a fresh wave of hurt invaded my arm. I ignored it, pushing through the pain as I went to work with my newly enhanced talons, triggering yet another new ability, Burning Talons.

  Another combat pop-up appeared, Burning Talons: 4/5, as my claws ignited with purple Shadow Flame. I went for the mammoth head currently latched onto my shoulder, digging my talons into the vulnerable eyes, earning myself a very satisf
ying Critical Hit. The jaws popped open in shocked response, freeing my shoulder long enough for me to lash out with my left hand, scoring a long set of gashes across the monster’s face, Burning Talons: 3/5.

  “You’ll never win this fighter, Pretender,” Vox snarled as he shuffled back, one of his outer heads whipping toward me with the bone-crushing force of a living wrecking ball. As large and in charge as I was now, Vox-Hydra was still a helluva lot bigger, so I couldn’t afford to stand there and tank it out with him. I dove right, curling into a ball as I executed a front roll that would’ve been perfect … if I hadn’t had wings. My shoulder smacked into the ground and my wing caught, throwing me off balance. Vox capitalized on the misstep, lashing out with a clawed foot which slammed into my chest and pinned me to the ground.

  Terrible heat flooded through my armor and ate into my skin, my HP sinking slowly but steadily as Vox bore down on me with all of his considerable weight. I dug my fingers into the enormous foot, snarling as magma seared my hands like a hot stove, and heaved. Vox didn’t budge. Not an inch. And suddenly a pair of writhing Hydra heads were directly above me, their jaws stretching wide as colossal fireballs formed in the back of each throat. They were going to blast me from point-blank range, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  I strained and bucked, wriggling my shoulders madly as I continued to push and pry with my hands. But it seemed like a fruitless endeavor—right until my HP dipped below 75%. In a flash, incredible, impossible strength flooded my body like taking a shot of pure adrenaline and chugging a full pot of coffee all at once. Desperate Strength, I remembered in a flash; it gave me an added Strength Bonus three times my current Character Level once I dropped below 75% Health.

  Holy crap, being a World Boss was cool as hell.

  With a roar of challenge, I heaved again, the foot lifting just long enough for me to roll away. The pair of deadly fireballs slammed into the ground where I’d been pinned seconds before, the whole earth rattling from the impact, but I was free and clear, bounding back to my feet and spinning right as I pulled out my crescent-bladed dagger and struck, slamming the blade into a swaying neck and carving a deep furrow in molten flesh. A gout of bubbling red liquid sprayed out as the head tottered for a moment, then fell.

  Vox’s HP dropped by a full seventh, bringing him down below 60%.

  I grinned, vicious and triumphant. I was winning.

  With a new surge of self-confidence—maybe I really could beat this guy straight up—I shot low, inside Vox’s guard, and attacked with my claws, triggering Burning Talon for the third time, 2/5. I scored a set of deep gashes across the Hydra’s chest, carving off another 3% of his HP. A serpentine head lunged toward me in response, mouth yawning wide, blazing fangs ready to end me. I juked right, narrowly avoiding the chomping jaws, but Vox seemed to read the play and was ready for me.

  Another blocky head was waiting for me; this one slammed into my chest like an actual freight train. I flew back, bulldozing into the earth, wheezing for air as I groped at my ribs, trying to breathe and failing miserably. A full 15% of my HP disappeared at once, and a combat notice flashed, reiterating exactly how badly I’d just had my ass handed to me:

  <<<>>>

  Debuff Added

  Stunning Blow: You have sustained a stunning blow! Attack damage -15%; Stamina Regeneration reduced by 30%; movement speed reduced by 35%; duration, 1 minute.

  <<<>>>

  I dismissed the notice with a blink, flipped onto my belly, and tried to scramble back to my feet. But with my movement speed so drastically reduced by the Stunning Blow, I wasn’t quick enough. Deadly jaws fastened around my left calf, magma teeth slipping past my armor with ease and digging deep divots into my skin and muscle. I screamed as fiery agony raced through my veins, and the Hydra dragged me from the ground, my head and arms dangling down as though I were a prized fish hauled onto shore.

  “You never had a chance,” Hydra-Vox growled. “And now it’s time to end this pathetic game.”

  “You’re right,” I grunted through the hurt, eyes flashing with malice. “It is time to end the game.” And then I started laughing. Right in his stupid face.

  THIRTY-TWO_

  End Game

  From where I was hanging—the world inverted, my arms dangling—I had a perfect view of the ziggurat and the pillar on top. Swirling all around it was a cloud of brilliant light as two hundred Pixies went to town with toothpick swords and doll-sized battle-axes. Individually, none of the Pixies could do much damage, but collectively? They were little monsters. Each one swinging in a frenzy, landing a strike every second without so much as a pause. Already the pillar was down below 70%, and that number was dropping by the second.

  I laughed harder.

  Finally, one of the massive Hydra heads slithered around, catching sight of the ambush for the first time.

  “No, impossible,” Vox hissed with equal parts anger and fear. “How? Nothing can sneak by me.”

  “They didn’t sneak by you, asshole,” I said as my HP dipped below 50%, unlocking another new attack, Cleansing Light. “You just weren’t paying attention. Everyone underestimates what the little guy can do. You were so focused on me and my army that you forgot all about the innocent little Pixies. You left your back door open, and they zipped right on in.” I used the moment of distraction to trigger my new attack. Relying on sheer instinct, pounded into my head by the game, I opened my mouth and unleashed a javelin of eye-searing white light. The beam carved through Vox’s chest, scorching another tenth of his HP.

  Cleansing Light, 1/2 flashed in the corner of my eye, but I hardly noticed as Vox reared back, jaws popping open in pain, dumping me onto the hardpan.

  I hit the earth with an echoing boom, but I was close enough to the ground that it didn’t do any damage. “No, this is unacceptable!” Vox howled. “You cheated! Cheated! It was to be single combat.”

  “This is war,” I replied, gaining my feet with a wince—my damned calf felt like someone had taken an industrial chainsaw to it. “There’s no such thing as cheating. Only playing smart and playing dumb.” I shot a finger gun at him. “You played dumb.”

  “Attack!” Hydra-Vox bellowed. His forces responded at once; Flame Salamanders poured from the lava flows and skeletal nightmares pulled themselves from their dusty graveyard. “Protect the pillar at all costs!” he shouted. Instead of turning toward my friends and the forces assembled at the base of the mountain pass, Vox’s army wheeled and broke into a lumbering charge toward the temple.

  A serious tactical error on their part.

  With their backs turned, they didn’t even see the Vale Army surge into action.

  They weren’t paying attention until arrows, spells, and cold steel cut down Elementals and skeletons with equal ease. Without Vox to guide them, to lead them, it was a slaughter. Every creature fought for themselves, some trying to launch a counterassault while others continued to press toward the ziggurat, gazes fixed on the pillar. Osmark and Jay took to the air, laying down waves of suppressive fire and corralling those who broke away from the pack. Abby and Amara marshaled the troops, barking out battle orders and maneuvering what remained of the Vale Army into a horseshoe.

  I saw panic flash across Vox’s many faces; a second later the great monster spun, his enormous legs pounding the earth as the Hydra made for the ziggurat. Nope. Not while we were so close to winning. I opened my jaws and unleashed my final bolt of Cleansing Light, 0/2. White fury poured from my mouth, searing a deep, crippling wound into Hydra-Vox’s rear leg. He stumbled, bleeding like a stuck pig. Still the Hydra soldiered on, dragging the ruined limb as he moved. Not wanting to lose my small advantage, I broke into a sprint, legs eating up the distance before I leapt into the air, my wings thrusting down, lending me greater height.

  I dropped onto Vox’s retreating back. I sank my talons into his molten flesh, then hauled myself up before latching onto the central neck with my jaws.

  The magma burned my mouth and scorched my tongue,
but I held fast, pulling back until I ripped a mouthful of burning meat free. More boiling blood ran from the wound in a river, Vox howling in reply. I pressed my attack, slamming my claws into the wound then triggering the Burning Talon ability, 1/5, carving off another chunk of HP. And best of all? From my position atop Vox, I could see the ziggurat. I watched in glee as the final pillar tottered unsteadily—huge cracks running over the surface of the stone—then pitched right, slamming down, a plume of dust and debris rising up.

  The column of cancerous light died away in a heartbeat.

  “No!” Hydra-Vox thundered, his steps faltering as he watched power, control, and order slip through his grasp. “This cannot be! I am the incarnation of Order. I am the champion. The world needs my hand to guide it.” Suddenly, Vox bucked violently beneath me like a rodeo bull, his many heads flailing like mad in his blind rage. I fought to hold on, but couldn’t manage it, and tumbled free. I flapped madly with my wings as I flipped backward, but flying was a helluva lot harder than Devil made it look.

  All I managed to do was kick up a bit of ashy dust before landing squarely on my neck with a thunderous crack as loud as a falling tree.

  A debuff appeared along with a hard knot of fear, which bloomed in my belly.

  <<<>>>

  Debuffs Added

  Critical Fall: You have suffered a debilitating spinal injury and are temporarily immobilized. You cannot move or cast spells. Duration, 1 minute.

  <<<>>>

  No, no, no.

  Hydra-Vox turned again, malice and rage burning in his many eyes as he stomped over, towering above me. I was flat on my back, legs akimbo, one arm pinned beneath me from the fall, and there was nothing I could do to fight back. The Lich Priest straddled me and planted an enormous clawed foot directly onto my chest, pressing down with his immense body weight, pushing the air from my lungs and slowly cracking my ribs. A terrible sense of déjà vu washed over me as I lay there, except this time I knew there was no miraculous new ability to save me.

 

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