Hellbound (Saga Online #2) - A Fantasy LitRPG

by Oliver Mayes

  The rhythmic tink of metal on stone was halted with a meaty thunk. Noigel slapped his hand over the imp’s mouth before it could scream and the rest of them fell about, snorting with laughter as quietly as they could. Damien rose up out of his crouch without announcing his presence. And waited. As the imps stopped laughing one after the other, Damien understood for the first time why Bartholomew enjoyed sneaking up on him so much. The looks on their faces were priceless, Noigel’s most of all. Damien figured that might have something to do with the knife shards that had been pushed to the edge of the table.

  “Noigel. How many knives have you broken?”

  “Three?”

  Damien strode over to the knife sling to inspect it, the imps moving out of his way. Sixteen left of twenty. Damien was about to comment when Noigel pulled the knife out of the imp’s finger, prompting another muffled scream, flipped it over and handed it to Damien handle first. All while smiling sweetly and fluttering his nonexistent eyelashes. Good enough. At least Noigel hadn’t killed any imps while he was gone.

  He gathered twenty knives into a single sling. No harm done. Then he pointed at the floor and summoned three wraiths and another imp. His Soul Summon Limit was at 20 out of 30, a big improvement on yesterday. He couldn’t gather any more souls without using the knives he’d kept reserved for Mordred. This was as good as it was going to get. This was it.

  Damien reviewed everything he needed to do, then placed his hand on the door:

  You are about to begin boss fight: ‘Mordred’. Are you prepared? (Y/N)

  As prepared as he reasonably could be. Damien nodded and the doors opened. Before setting foot inside, he stared at Noigel for a solid five seconds, conveying his plan. It was as simple as Damien could manage. He couldn’t hope to overwhelm Mordred with numbers, it would just murder them all. He couldn’t move eleven imps and three wraiths into the killing zone, either: they’d just die one after the other as Mordred found them. They’d all sit around the outside as he attempted to deal with it by himself. Less complicated. He’d call on them for help when it was needed.

  Noigel was very serious now. After all, Damien wasn’t the only one to have died yesterday and there was a succubi harem on the line. The imps and the wraiths all spread themselves around the outside of the chamber evenly, the wraiths forming the points of a triangle. Damien couldn’t see them, but he wouldn’t have to. Hopefully.

  The door closed behind him as he moved in last. He’d moved past the outermost ring of boulders and up to the second when the baby’s wailing began anew.

  How to trigger the encounter had been a source of some contention between Damien’s morals and pragmatism. Since it was a known enemy he’d be more than justified to plant a knife between its eyes. It still didn’t sit right with him. Not least of all because he didn’t know what would happen. It might make things even worse. On the other hand, sacrificing one of his imps to be eaten was wasteful. He compromised, chucking a rock at the bawling bundle of joy, and it began to shift.

  He pulled back, readying a throwing knife in one hand and a rock in the other. He could hear the ripping and tearing of cloth. Some of the legs were emerging. Damien might’ve been stealthed, but he had no idea how far Mordred could detect him from. There was only one way to discern that information, and it made about as much sense as carrying an open flame toward a leaking gas station to see when it would blow up.

  As the noise finished, Damien cautiously peered around his cover, hoping for a glimpse of a leg, or the bulky back of the abdomen. Anything that wasn’t eyes would work for him.

  Mordred was gone.

  Moving seemed like a bad idea. Not moving seemed like a worse idea. He had to do something. His odds would not improve by waiting for his enemy to make the first move. Damien took his rock and pelted it at the opposite side of the circle, without even looking where he was aiming. So long as it wasn’t nearby.

  There was a clunk as it hit something. Damien peered around his cover again, full of dread. He watched the rock fall to the floor from where it had struck a boulder on the far side. No further sound followed. So much for that. At least it hadn’t cost him anything. He’d have to use live bait. He was contacting Noigel to send an imp in when he caught movement. The briefest flash of black as Mordred skittered between rocks. It stopped running when it reached the boulder Damien’s rock had struck, then the first of the slender, hairy black legs hooked over the top of it.

  The good news was that Mordred wasn’t stealthed. The bad news was that Mordred was very quiet, very nimble and had excellent hearing. All the attributes of stealth save for the game-imbued effect of invisibility.

  Damien watched it scuttle silently up the boulder and perch on top of it, peering at the rock on the floor. It turned on the spot, shifting first left then right. It couldn’t turn its head. It had to turn its whole body to make eye contact. That was a very useful piece of information that would make this encounter much easier, Damien thought to himself. Until Mordred raised its abdomen into the air, twisting the baby-faced body to allow its crimson eyes to scan the area.

  Firstly, ewww. Secondly, ahhh. The baby face was definitely a primary critical hit point. It was also, unlike most faces, not possible to attack it from behind. Attacking now was high risk, high reward. This was so obviously the most dangerous moment. It was also, clearly, the moment of opportunity. The two were not always paired, but it was not uncommon. Mordred was as close as Damien could contemplate it getting to him. Maybe a little closer than that. This was as good a shot as he could ask for.

  Damien edged back before the abdomen faced him directly, palming a knife and trying to convince himself to engage. He hoped he hadn’t misjudged the speed of the ‘Baby Monitor’ sweep. He leaned around the boulder, flung a knife as hard as he could, then turned and fled.

  He was using the mechanic Aetherius had taught him. The knife, and he, would become visible a half second after he released it. Not only did he have to be in cover by then to maintain stealth, he also had to be close enough for the knife to reach Mordred in less than half a second. Otherwise the attack would be deflected, just like yesterday.

  His stealth wouldn’t be very useful if Mordred came to investigate. Which is why Damien was moving away as fast as he could while mantaining stealth, which was nerve-rackingly slowly. He’d been close enough for the knife to hit; Mordred was dual shrieking, half that of the monster below and half that of the one on top. Damien’s shoulders hunched up in a futile attempt to cover his ears. The scream ended and was followed by a deceptively quiet pitter-patter of feet drawing closer, not unlike a set of fingers drumming on a wet cloth.

  Damien rolled behind the first boulder he came across, all too close to the cover he’d just left. There was total silence, then another piercing scream, issuing from where Damien had been hiding three seconds ago. He played his fight and flight instincts off against each other and held his ground. Moving now was exactly what not to do. The scream coupled with the speed was designed to make him panic and give away his position.

  To avoid being controlled, Damien simply had to avoid eye contact. The problem with Mordred was that not keeping an eye on the creature was every bit as dangerous as looking directly at it. Every second he left Mordred alone, it would be hunting him instead of the other way around. Even if Mordred didn’t find him, it might find and eat his contingency plans. He had to lead the creature, both to keep it from roaming and so he knew where it would be. He couldn’t afford to let up on the pressure or else—

  A long, black, hairy foreleg extended over the top of the boulder he was hiding behind. Damien was about to be examined at close range. Whether he was looking at Mordred or not would hardly matter by then, since his peripheral vision would be full of fangs.

  Noigel! Help!

  Ten imps swept their wings and jumped into the air, appearing around the outermost circle in perfect synchrony. Damien picked out one far off to the side and Demon Gated. The imp he’d traded fortunes with screeched, drawin
g Mordred’s attention from right underneath it. The imp would last less than two seconds, if that, but it didn’t have to last that long. Damien pointed as he fell back down to the ground.

  “Imp-losion.”

  Mordred’s grip was strong. Imp-losion could not drag it off the rock it was perched on. Too bad. There were two other benefits though. The first was that Mordred would be left hungry. The second was that this most tried and tested of Damien’s combinations wasn’t merely covering Damien’s escape, it was also covering the approach of his first wraith.

  Damien’s feet buckled under him as he hit the cold hard floor. He pushed himself up and ran back in. This was when he most needed to be present. A fresh shriek before he’d rounded the first boulder told him his wraith had arrived. With any luck it had attacked from stealth, maybe even with a critical strike on top. Regardless, it had at the very least covered for the tail end of Damien’s absence. It would likely last no longer than an imp, but it was only supposed to inflict one good hit. Keeping his target busy while Damien reset.

  Damien spied the back of Mordred’s abdomen, perched over the boulder the creature had clung to, as Mordred lashed out against the wraith that had wounded it. A health bar appeared above Mordred: 86% health. 14% more damage than Damien had inflicted on it yesterday.

  This thing was not so strong as it appeared. It could definitely die. He had the tools to make it happen.

  Damien stood completely upright, palmed a knife in each hand and flung them at the back of Mordred’s raised torso together, diving behind cover as it screamed. The attacks had no modifiers for being critical hits or from stealth, but throwing two of them while stood upright from a safer distance was a good compromise. Mordred’s shrieks intensified and the pitter-patter of feet came again. Damien moved around his cover, keeping the faint sound between himself and his target. Mordred was running up to where Damien had been when he’d thrown the knives, not where he’d dived and rolled for cover afterwards.

  Damien was an ambush player. While most enemies required an ‘all in’ to get the most out of such a strategy, this fight had to be more measured. So he’d constructed a string of ambushes, each ensuring the success of the next, allowing Mordred nothing while maximizing the utility of each minion in a single use.

  All he had to do now was keep Mordred contained in this space, away from where his minions were concealed, until he could start the cycle again. Damien already knew how to do that. He moved forward in Shadow Walker to new, further cover, then threw another rock to the other side of the arena. Mordred went pitter-pattering after it. That’s when Damien knew for certain he was in business. It became even better when Mordred faced directly away from him as it scanned for his presence.

  Bartholomew would never have fallen for such a trick. Even some players wouldn’t fall for it twice. When Mordred had had eyes on Damien and he could hear it in his head, it had come across as calculating, mocking and cruel. It had taken extra time to torture him rather than ending the fight quickly. Not so when Damien avoided falling under its influence. Without him in its thrall, it was reduced to little more than a desperate, frenzied, instinctive animal. Damien had a procedural four-step plan, and it looked like it might be good. He kept Mordred in his sights as he palmed a knife in each hand.

  And so it went for two more rounds. Rocks, knife-throw critical strikes, full ability combo with wraith support and finally another double throw to reset on the way back in. On Damien’s final cycle he even managed a double throw in the first step, aimed into the more unsettling of Mordred’s two faces. The knives sticking from the glistening, lightly furred hide gave it the appearance of weeping tears of blood. It was a good thing Damien had his routine to focus on, a framework through which he could rationalize his proximity to pure nightmare fuel.

  But as Damien willingly entered Mordred’s domain for the fourth time, his wraiths were spent. Without those precious seconds of distraction while he was falling loudly to the floor, Mordred would hear or see him as he Demon Gated and run straight to his location, bringing him back to square one. He had nine knives, eight imps and a handful of stones left. Mordred’s health was not nearly as low as he’d hoped for, but it was now down to 28%.

  Damien’s method was sound, so far as he was concerned, but his damage was too low. Bad gear, low level, not enough soul energy available to employ his strategy to the fullest. His next attack had to be decisive. He’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this. He’d rather get it over with than have to go through it all over again.

  This wouldn’t require Noigel’s guidance. The order was simple enough for Damien to deliver it himself. He waited the last few seconds until his cooldowns had reset, keeping tabs on Mordred’s location. He could continue trying to throw knives and dodge around, but he was more likely to get caught out before he could finish. Without wraiths for support, his strategy had a hole in it. There was no benefit for Damien in drawing this out. Time for the ‘all in’. He sent the imps up and over, directing them to attack the face. Specifically, the eyes.

  They reared up and swooped toward their target from all angles. Mordred stared two of them down, taking control of their bodies in rapid succession and allowing them to plummet to the floor. It turned and struck a third, then a fourth out of the air with the pointed tips of its feet. Damien Demon Gated to the fifth as it blitzed in past its fallen brothers, then screwed his eyes shut as he scythed his daggers down.

  They plunged into the softer, more giving hide proffered by Mordred’s weak point. The screeching reached an even higher multi-tonal pitch, with Damien’s legs spinning behind him as the baby-gorgon-spider whirled round and round to throw him off. Mordred’s legs could not articulate to attack him if he was directly on its back, but this was of little comfort. If he lost his grip, this would be over in a heartbeat. Or better yet, it would be an excruciating rerun of yesterday.

  He alternated between stabbing with one dagger and anchoring with the other, eyes still tightly shut. They were not good hits, but they had to be doing something. He lost count of how many times he’d stabbed, but kept going anyway.

  It was a while before he realized the shrieking and spinning had stopped. It was completely silent, save for his continued blows to a probable corpse and his panicked breathing. Damien paused, briefly, to confirm the kill. Then withdrew his daggers, slid off the creature and onto the ground. All still with his eyes closed. He turned his back and walked a distance away. Happy thoughts. When he finally convinced himself to open his eyes, the game gave him something to smile about.

  He was up from level 46 to level 48 and then some. He had no business dealing with this dungeon when he was too low level for it, but at least that meant his experience gains were disproportionately high. Yay. Not that he’d recommend anyone following in his footsteps. Maybe he’d acquired some new skills? No? Too much to ask? He’d better get some loot from this horrible thing he’d just put behind him.

  “Noigel? Are you there?”

  There was a squawk of acknowledgment. Noigel had survived. They wouldn’t be having any debates with only three other imps for him to draw intelligence from.

  “Gimme a minute.”

  Damien opened his menu. Somehow it felt like he could still stay a step away from what he’d just put himself through by not acknowledging it. His stat bar would provide a welcome distraction.

  Class: Occultist

  Level: 48

  Health: 1,220/1,220Stamina: 1,370/1,370 Mana: 3,080/3,080

  Strength: 57 Agility: 181 Intelligence: 57

  Constitution: 122 Endurance: 137 Wisdom: 308

  Stat points: 10

  Experience: 29,360/48,000

  Soul Summon Limit: 4/30 Soul Reserve: 10/10 (+1/1)

  More good news. He’d absorbed 10 souls and had another one from his Sacrificial Dagger. Yay. How fortunate. Right. That had been horrible, but it was over. He’d pick up the gear, summon new minions and move on. It was definitely time to move on. He put all his new stat points into agilit
y and moved on.

  Mordred had been converted into a loot chest. A big fancy one. He hadn’t even needed to tell Noigel what he wanted before it was done. This, in addition to his sterling service in combat, meant his imp had a new assignment. Damien pointed at the floor with his Sacrificial Dagger and began summoning.

  “Well done, Noigel. You were awesome. Here’s one succubus for now. Our first deal still stands but you’re on track. Go find a rock somewhere private. Come back when I call.”

  Noigel saluted and ran off with the succubus in tow. Alright. Another immediate source of drama temporarily rediverted. He got to looting and felt a little better still.

  Heartbinder

  Description: A demon-hide chestpiece once worn by the Sunset Emperor: Bartholomew, Scourge of the World. They kept his heart and soul protected, an empty shell protecting an empty shell.

  Level Requirement: 50

  Stat Requirement: 200 Agility

  Stats: +30 Wisdom, +30 Constitution

  Set Bonus: Sunset Emperor – +30 Agility, +30 Stamina, +30 Endurance, +30 Wisdom (1/5 pieces): Shadow Walker functions in broad daylight

  It almost made the fight worthwhile. So far as Damien could tell, he’d gotten through most of the immediate shock. Did Mobius have dedicated therapists? It should. Big company. He could ask Kevin if they had any therapists they could refer him to for this sort of thing. For now, he needed to take a breather for a few minutes. Perhaps Cassandra still had some leftover heart medicine he could borrow? Maybe two therapists. Yeah. He was fine.

  23

  Ka is a Wheel

  In the absence of any therapists, Damien made do with what he had available: online blooper reels, courtesy of the external browser. A band aid was better than nothing. At least Noigel wouldn’t have any complaints about how much time he was getting with the succubus. Well, any valid complaints.

  “Noigel, come here, please.”