Hellbound (Saga Online #2) - A Fantasy LitRPG

by Oliver Mayes

  For all intents and purposes, the realms of the four primary races were training areas for the real meat of the game. At least, that’s how Mobius had advertised it. Damien couldn’t be sure, because there was very little in the way of information about what lay outside, other than that it was considerably more dangerous. In fact, nobody knew much more than what Bart had imparted to him.

  The four playable races were positioned at all four corners of the map, as far away from each other as possible. Directly outside of their fortified positions lay the Wastes: a barren stretch of rock and sand. The reward for traversing it was a whole new world of content to be explored: the Outer Ring. A land of plenty, with new resources to be plundered from rich environments, exciting new creatures to meet and kill as well as myriad settlements with the promise of lucrative trade and endless quests to perform. Which was just as well, because it served as the primary staging ground for the advancement of all four races after leaving their respective homelands.

  The final area, at the core of Arcadia’s map, was the Inner Circle. Bartholomew had not been forthcoming about what Damien might find there, besides his objective, but the name and location made the overall theme clear enough. Most of the late-game content would be there, and more likely than not it would be the source of the highest-level dungeons and the most dangerous mobs. So presumably all the best gear would be there, too. That’s where Bartholomew was sending him.

  Thanks to his Bag of Holding, Damien didn’t need to worry too much about item preparation. He didn’t have to think too hard about what to do with his minions, either. The wraith would stay behind for defense, since it was already light outside. Everything else would come with him. Ten imps, the hell hound, the succubus and Noigel.

  Damien was interested in the new bounty issued on him through Carlisle, especially since the town had recently had a change of leadership. However, the quest from Bart had relegated the bounty to a distant second priority. Carlisle was simply an obstacle to be circumvented, which would be a much easier prospect at night and all but impossible during the day. Especially when you factored in the climate of the Human Realm’s final territory. The North.

  It wasn’t far from Damien’s base, which he’d stuck in a grinding cave near the far end of Brociliande with no known quests attached to it. As he approached the wide border, the forest started to change subtly. The trees were spaced a great deal further apart, allowing the first flakes of snowfall to drift to the frosty earth beneath their branches. Before long the middle distance was completely obscured by a veil of falling snow. In addition to moving less swiftly and having reduced vision, his and his minions’ stamina points were replenishing more slowly. Words appeared in the middle of his vision, denoting both the name of the zone he’d crossed into and the sub-area it was affiliated with: The North – Frozen Forest.

  Damien pressed on, and within minutes the ground lay invisible beneath a blanket of pristine white powder which was thickening by the minute. It was not long before his team was leaving a long trail behind them, advertising their location to any who might stumble across their tracks. They would be covered up again in due course by fresh snow, but each second they lingered increased his chances of being hunted. He was below average level in this area, and unfamiliar with the terrain.

  Damien wasn’t a complete fool. He was well aware of the environmental effects of what players had affectionately dubbed ‘Frozone’. His agility directly translated into faster and more effortless movement, but if his reduced vision caused him to blunder into a dangerous situation with low stamina, the slow replenishment rate brought on by the cold meant he’d have a hard time blundering himself out of it. The name of the game here was patience. Fortunately, or unfortunately, his minions were suffering the adverse effects a great deal more than he was. With the exception of the hell hound, their stamina would deplete rapidly if he so much as jogged. At least it served as a constant reminder to keep his own stamina in check.

  His winged minions took to the air, leaving only himself and his hell hound grounded to pick their way through the snowdrifts. While this greatly reduced their overall tracks and also helped their fight against the elements, it also meant he had twelve bright-red blimps hovering around him, their bodies stark against the white backdrop all around. If anything happened, they’d have to descend quickly.

  The hell hound growled low in its throat and pointed its snout ahead and to their right, prompting Damien’s airborne forces to land. The imps buried themselves in the abundant snow while the succubus, hell hound and Damien himself planted themselves behind the nearest trees and lay still. A bear. Level 43 and elite to boot. Not worth the trouble of killing. It sauntered across their path at a steady gait without noticing them. Damien’s party had barely set out again when the hell hound growled for a second time. This time pointing behind them, in the direction the bear had come from. They’d no sooner attempted to conceal themselves when a level 43 ranger, his attention rapidly alternating between the bear’s tracks and the whiteout ahead, stumbled right into their midst.

  He abruptly stopped where the tracks of the bear and those of Damien crossed. Damien sighed as the ranger’s gaze slowly followed the new set of tracks, all the way up to where Damien was doing his best tree impersonation. It was not enough to satisfy the ranger. The two of them locked eyes. Well, damn.

  Damien couldn’t have looked all that imposing, squatting and hugging the tree for balance. He tried to dissuade the ranger anyway.

  “The bear went that way. I’m not goi—”

  The ranger nocked an arrow. That was enough. Noigel yelped and the snow around the ranger burst open in ten places, each of the imps adding to Noigel’s cry with shrieks of their own. While the ranger’s head darted left and right, Damien took his pick and Imp-loded the one in his enemy’s blind spot. The ranger was hurtling backward when his legs kicked underneath him and propelled him into the air, toward the lowest branches of the nearest tree. That Double Jump trait. He hadn’t even got to the tree when, still airborne, he loosed the arrow. Right into Damien’s chest.

  The initial damage was substantial. 200 hit points were immediately gone. The real problem was the debuff, a skull and crossbones with a red droplet hanging underneath. He was bleeding. Smart choice by the ranger in this environment, since low stamina would worsen the damage over time. He’d probably had this arrow prepared for the bear to kill it via attrition, but it would work far faster on his new quarry.

  Damien cursed and rolled around the tree, the second arrow thrumming into the ground behind him. He poked his head around the other side just in time to watch the first of his imps get nailed, the ranger shooting it down with ease as it flew toward him head-on. Rangers were ideal characters for this zone, their range and low stamina weapon usage enormous advantages. This guy was not only well skilled for tundra combat, but was also clearly well versed in it.

  It was as the second imp went down, only a moment after the first, that Damien commanded them to evade. The ranger missed the next shot, took his time before killing a third imp with the next, and was leading a fourth when the succubus’s Chaotic Bolt smashed him back off his branch. He Double Jumped again, landing improbably on his feet. Which is when the hell hound cannoned into his chest, knocking him down and pinning him on his back. The ranger had swapped to a serrated dagger and stabbed it twice, the second stab finding purchase between the hound’s armored plates, before Noigel and the last two imps sailed in to chomp down on his arms. With his limbs impeded, the hell hound ended it quickly.

  Damien was gratified to have proven a more difficult kill prospect than an elite bear. He was not gratified that this ranger had completely mitigated his Imp-losion, killed three imps and inflicted severe wounds on both him and his hell hound – they were both still taking damage from the lingering bleed effects. He laboriously trudged over, being careful not to let his stamina drop too low, so that he could loot the body and absorb just 1 soul. The ranger’s body disappeared at Damien’s touch,
leaving an empty patch of snow and a full loot bag. He threw it into his Bag of Holding without opening it and was summoning a fresh imp when the hell hound growled again.

  Oh, of all the frigging—

  Damien turned to run back to his tree, only to realize with mounting horror that the bleed effect had stained the ground all the way up to it. A trail of blood would follow him wherever he went till it expired in another fifteen seconds. This was not viable. He crouched down and sent his new imp out to a different tree, then Demon Gated to it, while Noigel scattered his minions to cover. The imp that had been used for Damien’s Demon Gate quickly buried itself in the snow. The hell hound, still bleeding itself, suffered the most from the rapid action required.

  Damien cautiously peered around the side of the trunk. This time it was a level 45 assassin, casting her eyes around her at the signs of struggle: tracks crisscrossing in every direction, abundant blood in spatters and patches, and a deep furrow of disturbed snow where the ranger had fallen. All fresh. And not an enemy in sight. But there were also two obvious blood trails. After some deliberation, she set off after the freshest and most obvious trail: the hasty tracks and fresh blood left by the hell hound.

  Damien hesitated. If she found the hound she’d know there was also an occultist nearby. So letting her get it would be doubly unhelpful, since Damien would also lose his primary defense against assassins. Yet his team was not in a fit state for a straightforward fight or a veiled one.

  There was only one thing for it. He leaned the other way, spying the huddled hell hound behind a snow-capped boulder and dismissing it. Sensing the urgency in his command, the hell hound wasted no time in jumping through the portal that appeared. The assassin reached the spot, daggers drawn. Tracks and fresh blood leading to absolutely nothing. She most likely thought a player had run there and bled out, then been looted.

  After a few tense moments, she retraced her steps and followed the short trail of Damien’s blood, but to no avail. Her search of the area fruitless, she followed the bear tracks away. The bleed on Damien gone, he tentatively made his way to where his hell hound had departed, picking up the one and a half souls it had left behind. It’s a good thing soul energy was only visible to occultists.

  This zone was more dangerous than he’d anticipated. Occultists had a clear reason to kill other players, due to their experience point-stealing perk, but surely these players had better things to do than stalk targets in the woods? Weren’t there quests they should be doing? He’d have to be even more careful.

  He sent an imp to scout ahead and Demon Gated as far forward as his range of vision would allow. The succubus and the imps flew after him, leaving the ground between themselves and the killing crossroads pristine. Now he knew how to conceal his movements.

  They’d been traveling through the forest for another ten minutes before the new strategy found them. The imp he’d sent forward to scout was dispatched via an arrow through the chest. Damien drew further back, using the blizzard to his advantage. He dismissed an imp for half a soul and summoned a new hell hound. He possessed it, then dropped down to the floor to drag himself forward on his new scaly belly, shoveling snow in front of himself to remain obscured.

  A red outline appeared, perched on a tree out in front. He was moving closer to determine the player’s level and class when a second outline appeared in a different tree, a short distance away. A ranger and a mage. The ranger’s red outline was empty on the branch, indicating he was stealthed. How the mage had gotten up the tree Damien was sure he didn’t know, but the ranger was far too close for him to believe they weren’t aware of each other. Their levels were a match as well. Level 45. They were likely working together.

  Damien mulled it over. It appeared players would be a more reliable source of soul energy in this zone than the mobs he’d been hoping for. So much for wanting to lay off the player-killing for a while. If he got this wrong, he’d either die or be forced to Portal home and take the souls from his Soul Well to try again, setting him back even further.

  This could be done sensibly, if Damien was careful enough. He sent two imps all the way round the outside of them, paying special attention to the red outlines of each to take full advantage of their blind spots. They were not looking directly at each other. They were facing opposite directions, looking for incoming targets instead of protecting themselves. Mistake.

  Damien sent the imp on the ranger in first, then directed the other to face-hug the mage. It was much easier to attack still targets than moving ones, since it allowed him to plan around them if they weren’t careful. He killed the ranger quickly then Demon Gated to the mage before it could deal with the other imp. It was much easier to resolve combat quickly when he got the jump on his enemies. But these two had the right idea.

  Why travel through the zone when you could have your targets come to you? Damien could set up shop here for a while to get a respectable minion count and raise his level. He could implement this strategy much better than either of the players he’d just dispatched.

  “Noigel, I want you to ride the hell hound out. Make a big figure of 8 in the snow with this ranger’s body in the center, way out past our field of vision on two sides. About 100 meters in each direction. Make it really wide. If the hound detects anything, come straight back.”

  While they were gone, Damien summoned a new hell hound. He was positioning his minions when Noigel came riding back at pace, the hound blasting hot clouds in the air as it replenished stamina. Damien instructed his imps to bury themselves around the ranger’s body and was pondering what to do with the succubus and new hound as Noigel and his own trusty steed set off to complete the second loop of their circuit.

  Damien wanted to lure in players who were following tracks, but a straight line only had a 50% chance of them going in the right direction. If they went the wrong way and found a dead end, they might realize what was happening. A circle with the ranger’s body at the edge would work, but also seemed suspicious – why would anyone be traveling in a wide circle like that? He’d rather any potential victims had as little to question as possible. Let them think they were the ones hunting. A figure of 8 guaranteed players found the body no matter which way they followed the tracks. The two long straight sections would provide expediency and realism to the pursuit of their imaginary quarry.

  With the hell hound next to him, and Noigel, the succubus and the other hell hound on the opposite side of the ranger-bait and seven imps steadfastly shivering in seven almost imp-erceptible mounds around it, Damien settled in to wait. Another advantage to this that he hadn’t thought of was that his units would all be at full stamina when combat started, courtesy of their lack of movement.

  The first to arrive was a warrior. Gatz. Level 44. Big claymore on his back. Not the best class to have in this weather, but the armor would still pose a problem to Damien’s posse. In addition to the black plate mail, he had a bear skin wrapped around his upper body. It didn’t look like a regular inventory item. Perhaps it granted him resistance to the cold? Damien could hardly ask, he’d have to look it up later. Gatz glanced around briefly, but having seen nothing out of the ordinary he ran up to the ranger’s body to loot it. The promise of free stuff clearly mitigated the suspicious nature of four sets of tracks converging on one body, at least for this player.

  He might’ve been sturdy, but he didn’t have any ranged attacks. Gatz had just looted the body when both hell hounds started running toward him from opposite sides. Gatz only caught sight of the one on Damien’s side and stood to face it, weapon in hand, a few seconds before it would’ve reached him. Damien had it halt a few feet away to keep his attention, snarling upward with paws splayed. The second hell hound barreled into the back of Gatz’s neck before he’d made a decision.

  Damien sent everything in. The succubus cast Circle of Hell to reduce armor and burn him, and the two hell hounds both ignited as their target went prone. Still not fast enough. This guy had a lot of HP. Damien joined the fray via a Demon Ga
te, taking the armor reduction and the burn for the sake of doing more damage while his foe was down.

  Gatz was at less than 20% health when he started to glow red. Oh man, he had the Berserker Rage trait. No wonder he felt comfortable strolling around the tundra with an unstealthy class all by himself.

  The succubus cast Bloodlust and they all set upon him with increased fervor. With three burning effects inflicted on him Gatz was still going down, but stupendously slowly. The Berserker Rage trait could only be used once every twenty-four hours, but the increased strength, damage resistance and health and stamina regen it provided constituted a full minute of game-breaking insanity.

  Gatz was at 5% health when he leapt to his feet, throwing his assailants into the air. The warrior wheeled round, sighted Damien where he’d fallen and Charged. The succubus’s Chaotic Bolt slammed into his face, but while it brought Gatz to the edge of his life it did not stagger him as it should have.

  Damien’s Demon Gate was on cooldown and he wouldn’t be able to hit this guy even once in melee before he was cut in half. In desperation, he span his daggers round and hurled them at the berserker’s face in rapid succession. One clanged away uselessly on the edge of his helm. The other embedded itself in his eye. 0%. Gatz paused for a moment, still standing upright, as if he had to consider whether this bizarre use of the daggers merited a kill. Then he keeled over backward and lay still.

  That had not been the easy kill Damien had planned for. But if he could deal with this lunatic he could probably handle anything else wandering these woods. That was a small comfort considering how much damage Gatz had done. Damien himself had been badly burned by straddling his enemy in the middle of the succubus’s Circle of Hell, since he was not a demon. The rest of them were either damaged, out of mana or disoriented. But there was no time to lose. For all Damien knew, Gatz’s tracks were already being followed by another enemy.