Soulstone: The Skeleton King: A LitRPG Novel (World of Ruul Book 2)

by J. A. Cipriano

  “If you had been in love, you might not be able to kill the Skeleton King because to do so would require you to give it up, to burn your love, hopes, and dreams upon my altar.” Laughter flittered across my sensed. “And that, you’d refuse.” The darkness spoke, smothering me in its words, clawing into me, suffocating and intoxicating. “And refusal will save no one.”

  A Cheshire cat grin stretched across the back of the cave as I collapsed to my knees under the force of the voice in my head. It felt like my brain was coming apart at the seams, and worse, through each of those splits in the fabric of my mind, more darkness wormed its way inside.

  On some level it made sense. After all, this game was being fed directly into my brain. So far, it hadn’t been malevolent, but at the same time, it was still a computer virus that was actively destroying everything in its path like a digital forest fire, and we’d stepped directly in its path. No, not just into its path, but into the heart of its darkness.

  “See, all I need for you to do, adventurers, is die. It’s quite simple, really.” Laughter exploded across my mind’s eye. “It’s so easy even a child can do it.”

  “Yeah, I’ve always been a no shoes, uphill in the snow sort of guy,” I growled, and the words barely fought their way out of my throat as I reached out to claw away the darkness clinging to me. “So, I’m going to have to pass on the easy way.”

  “So you say,” the darkness replied, and I got a feeling I could only describe as knowing a leopard I couldn’t see was watching me from the tall grass, deciding on the best way to attack. “But I do not think you can resist the Skeleton King while you still live. I do not think any of you are strong enough. You are but chaff before the scythe, but perhaps I shall be proven wrong. It has happened once before.” More laughter rippled across my brain. “Come, find me, adventurers. Prove your worth, and I shall help you defeat the Skeleton King.”

  With those words, the darkness vanished, leaving me so suddenly, my first intake of breath actually burned. My friends lay on the ground beside me, but thankfully, the darkness that had clung to them was gone too. As I crawled slowly to my feet, laughter burbled from my throat. I’d nearly died to a game, but I hadn’t. It was crazy because I hadn’t done anything to not die. No, this had just been some kind of deranged cut scene. And man, oh man, how fucked were we?

  “I have no idea what it was,” I said between guffaws I couldn’t stop. “But it fucking sucked.”

  “No shit,” Two’ Manchu replied as he got to his feet. “Thanks for trying to save me. But, I guess, if it wanted to kill us, we’d be dead.”

  “Did it ask you guys to find it too?” Crash asked, his eyes wild with terror. “Because I’m not sure I want to find whatever that was.”

  “Um, guys. Do you see that?” Dark Heart said, pointing past us. I turned to follow her gaze and my jaw dropped.

  Sitting upon a decayed, broken throne that hadn’t been there before was a corpse. His once princely attire was covered in dried blood, rot, and moss, and his mouth hung open at an obscure angle, revealing a mouthful of broken teeth.

  “Who do you think that is?” I asked, taking a step forward, and as I did, the corpse’s head turned to look at me. Its eyes lit up with lavender light, and its entire body convulsed as it smacked its lips together like it was trying to work up the moisture to talk.

  “So, you want to defeat the Skeleton King, do you?” the corpse asked in a voice that reminded me of Sean Connery as a spider crawled out one eye socket and into its nose hole, causing me to shiver and want to run away. I didn’t, but it was a near thing. “I have just the thing for that, and you can have it. Assuming you’re brave enough to take it.”

  8

  “Kill it!” George cried, revving up to blast the Zombie King to smithereens. “Kill it with fire!”

  “Stop!” the Zombie King cried, waving his hands in a sort of lurching motion that actually wasn’t all that quick. “I mean you no harm.”

  “That’s exactly what someone who meant us harm would say!” George replied, his tiny bunny body glowing with pent up ice magic. “We can’t take that chance, right boss?”

  “Dude, chill,” I said, joked, causing the bunny to give me a sort of crestfallen look.

  “Chill? Really, dude?” George shook his head in disgust as the energy he’d summoned dissipated, causing the ground beneath his furry bunny feet to crystalize with frost. “Really?”

  “Really. I want to hear what he has to say. Maybe this will be like when Weed spared those necromancers and wound up unlocking that epic Class A quest.” I turned back toward the king of rotten flesh. “Continue please.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, but either way, I’m sort of with the bunny,” Two’ Manchu said, shaking his head at me. “Maybe he’s responsible for the darkness and is going to drop us into a rancor pit.”

  “You’ve never read Legendary Moonlight Sculptor?” I asked as the king opened his mouth to reply to us, cutting off any further discussion.

  “There was a time long ago, when the earth was young and the birds chirped chirping songs,” the zombie said, ignoring our banter as he stared wistfully into space. “The bees buzzed, and the butterflies buttered. Alas, it was a time of great glory. When knights were knights and small furry creatures from distant stars were not copyright protected.” He turned his gaze upon us, causing the image of a throne room to appear before us like a miniature holographic projection.

  Upon the throne sat a man who was probably this guy before a million years of decay had ravaged him into an undead husk. Kneeling in front of the king was a knight with armor that glinted like spun copper, hair like burnished steel, and a flowing crimson cape. The scar stretched across the knight’s ruggedly handsome face twisted as he stood, drawing a sword as black as night and twice as dark from a bejeweled scabbard.

  “My liege, I have complied with your request to recover the Sword of Infinite Sorrows,” the knight said, and his voice was like someone had put Vin Diesel into a hadron collider with The Rock and then somehow distilled the result of that crazy concoction into pure pwnage. “Now, I shall do as you have commanded and take the battle to the Lord of Liches and his fifteen undead vampiric brides. I shall tear their hearts from their frigid chests and smash them upon the Altar of the Sun.”

  “You have given our kingdom much to smile upon this day, Prince Glenn. Go forth and conquer,” the king said as the knight stood and bowed before turning and striding out of the room while an electric guitar melted face in the background, which, I’ll admit was really cool, even if a bit fucked up.

  “What the hell was that all about?” Two’ Manchu asked as the scene dissipated into the ether, leaving us standing before the decayed king as he licked his lips like he was once again trying to moisten his mouth. “And what’s with all the eighties’ rock? Hair metal sucks, yo.”

  “Hair metal sucks? What are you, some kind of ‘mo?” George asked, shaking his head as his bunny eyes narrowed. “There was a small moment where I started to think you were cool, Tubby, but no more.” George stood on his hind legs and crossed his furry arms over his chest. “We’re no longer tight.”

  “Devastation, thine name is mine,” Two’ Manchu replied, clasping his heart with one hand as he pretended to stumble backward.

  “Fucker,” George snapped, turning away from the barbarian and looking at me. “Can you believe this clown?”

  “Was that the Skeleton King?” Crash asked, turning to look at the decayed husk in front of us in an effort to put us back on task. “You know, before he went full Dark Side?”

  “That was my younger brother, Prince Glenn. He was the leader of the Royal Knights. He went forth to conquer the Lord of Liches, but when he returned, he was much changed.” The king touched his chest, running one decrepit finger over the ages old wound in his chest. “And then he stabbed me with that cursed blade.” The king paused to hack up a lung. “But fear not, for I can help you defeat him. See, one cursed by the dark sword ca
n only be killed by the dark sword. To kill him—”

  “We need the sword,” I said, interrupting the king because just being around him made my skin crawl. I mean the dude had an actual fucking spider living in his nose canal. That was all sorts of fucked up. “That’s why we’re here. We want to get the sword.”

  “It is good you have come then because I have the sword,” the king said, leaning forward and causing a spider-web-covered mouse to fall from his left eye socket. The creature landed on his lap and looked around for a moment before scurrying off into the darkness.

  “Great, where is it?” Dark Heart asked, taking a step closer. “We don’t have a lot of time to find it before the Skeleton King rises…”

  “What you seek is just behind me, adventurer.” He turned and gestured at the wall behind him, causing the wall to disintegrate into a cloud of debris that revealed a snarling maw of an entrance that totally resembled a fanged skull. Its blackened tongue was splayed out across its teeth, forming a bridge into its jaws. “Well, part of it, anyway. I have the blade I was stabbed with. The Lord of the Liches has the hilt.”

  “Oh, this just gets awesomer by the fucking second,” George said, glancing at us. “Are we seriously going in there to get a broken sword? Not an actual sword, mind you, but a busted ass piece of junk sword?”

  “Yes,” Dark Heart said, rubbing her hands together like a greedy chipmunk. “I’m not sure how we got here exactly or what that darkness was about, but I want to get some phat loot and level up. Both of those things mean we need to go in there.” She raised her fist. “Who’s with me?”

  “I guess, I’m with you,” Two’ Manchu said, shaking his head. “But I call dibs on all the things I want.”

  “Didn’t you do that last time?” I asked, glancing at the barbarian as he followed Dark Heart across the tongue into the gaping mouth of the skull.

  “And look how well that turned out for me,” he said, tossing a grin back at me while waving his hasted axe over his head.

  “Fair point,” I said, stepping out of Crash’s way so he could follow them inside since I knew he didn’t like to be the last one in a room. I took the opportunity to turn my gaze upon the Zombie King. “Say, who guards the sword?”

  “The Spirit of Terrible Peril guards the sword,” the king replied, giving me a gap-toothed smile.

  “I’m guessing he’s not terribly friendly, eh?” I said, rubbing my forehead in an effort to soothe away my sudden apprehension at having to face something called the Spirit of Terrible Peril. I mean, seriously? Why couldn’t we have fought the gumdrop giant who showered us with love and fond wishes?

  “No,” he laughed in a way that reminded me of Patrick Stewart for some reason. “Not at all.”

  “Awesome,” I said, sighing aloud as I tossed a look at my pet bunny rabbit. “Isn’t this awesome?”

  “Yeah, not really, boss. Let’s just do this and get back to town. I think I might be able to get that Dora chick to hug me while wearing skimpy clothing, and I do not want to miss out on that.” The bunny shot me a lascivious smile. “Know what I’m saying?”

  “So, uh, how do we kill this Spirit of Terrible Peril?” I asked, ignoring the bunny. I absolutely did not care about his chances of hooking up with the erstwhile Dora.

  “How do you kill that which does not live?” he asked me back, and this time more laughter exploded from his gullet. “That is the real question.”

  “Okay… guess the king is crazy,” I said, turning back toward the entrance to see my friends waiting just inside. “Fuck it. Onward and upward, right, George?”

  “Right!” George said, hoping across the tongue with me. “Now can I get a huzzah?”

  “Huzzah,” I muttered in response, but I’ll be honest, I wasn’t really feeling it.

  9

  “I’ve got a bad feeling about this?” I said as the jaws of the cave behind me slammed shut, sealing us inside the entrance to the dungeon. The sound made me jump and glance around behind me.

  While I knew this wasn’t real, that I was just trapped in a game, at the same time, if I died here, that would be really fucking real.

  As I stared at the closed gates behind us, my heart began to hammer in my chest. What if I never got back out of here? What if, after everything, I wound up trapped in this world and never leaving? Worse, what if I died here?

  No, I couldn’t allow myself to go down that rabbit hole. It wouldn’t help. Not now, at least. There was a way out. I just had to find all the soul stones to do it. That was possible. Maybe not super possible, but if there was even a one percent chance of success, I had to try. I couldn’t just give up. I couldn’t just stay here and not move.

  No, I had to face this dungeon. I would face this dungeon. And with that thought firmly in my mind, I spun on my heel and stared out at the dungeon before us. It was built to resemble a sort of old style shrine, only instead of being a happy place, murals depicting people getting gutted and the like adorned the walls. The ground beneath our feet was covered with crimson tile, and the torches lining the walls burned with scarlet flame, making me think the place had been decorated by someone straight out of Hot Topic.

  “Could be worse,” Two’ Manchu muttered, taking a step forward, axe held in a white-knuckle grip. “It could have one of those vapid snarky girls with the weird nose piercing. You know, the kind who looks at you like you shouldn’t even exist.” He tried to laugh, but it sounded forced, and when no one joined in, he sort of let it trail off…

  “I suppose,” I replied, trying to smile as I followed him into the depths of the room. As I moved, I heard Dark Heart and Crash following behind us.

  Part of me wanted to yell at them to get in front. I mean, both of them were higher level than Two’ Manchu and I, but I knew why they weren’t. Just like us, they were scared. They were scared of the way the darkness clung to the place, of the smell, like old moss and decay. They were scared of the skittering, scratching sounds in the walls that were probably just mice, but which might be something else.

  Still, that was no reason to stay behind, and I’d have complained if it weren’t for one thing. If something jumped us from behind, it’d be good to have them get attacked first.

  “So, there’s a door to both the right and the left.” Two’ Manchu swung his axe through the air, pausing for a moment to indicate both. “Which way do you want to go?”

  To be honest, it was a hard choice because neither looked particularly inviting. From the skulls emblazoned on the floor in front of them to the crumbling, blackened rock of the doorframes, absolutely nothing about them made me want to move forth. No, it made me want to run, and from the look on my party’s faces, I was pretty sure everyone else agreed.

  Only we couldn’t just leave because the dungeon was locked, and besides, if we did, we wouldn’t win. And we had to win. There was no other way. If we didn’t, we risked death, and I wasn’t going to die in this make believe dungeon.

  “Left,” I said, filling my voice with all the confidence I could muster. “You always go left.”

  “Um… why is that?” Crash asked from behind me, and the curiosity in his voice was surprising.

  “Because statistically, most people always go right. Therefore, if there’s a trap, it’s a lot more likely to be on the right.” I wasn’t sure if that was true or not because I’d just made it up, but by going left in D & D games, I had usually avoided traps, so I was sticking to it. I just didn’t think they’d buy that as a reason to actually, you know, listen to me.

  “I feel like you’re lying,” Crash said, scratching his chin. “I feel like I’d have heard that if it was true. Like, it is statistically true most people will pick the center item, given a choice, but I haven’t heard something similar regarding only two choices.” He shrugged. “Then again—”

  “Blah, blah, statistics, blah, blah, I’m already bored,” George muttered, hopping up beside me. “Boss says we’re going left, we go left.”

  “I’m fairly sure we�
��ll explore both anyway, so left works for me,” Dark Heart added, shooting me a smile that told me she knew I was full of shit.

  I nodded my thanks to her, and she nodded back. It was good that she trusted me. It was the least she could do since she was also the psycho bitch directly responsible for sending me here. No, I couldn’t think about that either. If I did, I might freak out, and attack her. Only I couldn’t do that either because if she died, Ivan would kill me.

  “Hey, Dark Heart, I have a question,” I said, stopping next to a mural where people were being fed to crimson-scaled lions. “About the whole coming to Ruul process.”

  “Eh?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “What do you want to know?” she added, and the wariness in her voice was obvious. No doubt she expected me to lash out at her. I wouldn’t, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to.

  “So, I remember Ivan saying you guys wanted gamers instead of soldiers for this whole shebang.” I gestured at the world around us. “But let me be honest here. I’m scared out of my goddamned mind I’m going to die. I keep thinking, if real life skills like fighting and stuff sort of translate here, why wouldn’t you want some Navy Seals? I mean, they’re trained for shit like this. Couldn’t you just pick a few and make ‘em play TG for a while?”

  “That’s what we did in the first round, actually, but they had a different problem. It was one we didn’t actually have with gamers.” The corners of her lips twisted upward as relief washed across her face. Maybe it was because it was a question that didn’t make her feel like the horrible person she was. “That’s why we switched over. I mean, okay, the gamer Seals were actually really good, but the normal Seals, not as much. We’ve sent in lots of gamer seals and the like.”

  “How are the regular ones not good? Because I’m finding that incredibly hard to believe,” I replied as her gaze flitted around the room like she was looking for something.