Aether Knight: Desolation: A LitRPG Light Novel

by Tracy Gregory

  “For as long as we need,” Casey said. “I left a big deposit with the owner and they’ll just take the free out when we drop them back off.”

  “How big?” Alex said, eyeing Casey nervously.

  “Oh, about four thousand zenni.”

  “And you chewed me out for buying those wards.”

  “We already had wards. Besides, the problem wasn’t you spending the money, it was a good upgrade. The problem was you spending it without permission. You were on board with this whole build an airship thing.”

  “On board is a stretch. We still don’t know if we can pull this off. It’s taken how many centuries for the Towers to build up the fleet they have, and we want to knock one up in our back yard.” Alex shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the craziest idea we’ve had.”

  “We can do it,” Erwin said. “Honestly the design I’ve got in mind is if anything simpler than what they’re using currently. I’m thinking more along the lines of a rigid airship, something with a sealed cabin and-”

  “Alright, save it for the frogs,” Cassius said. Whilst they had been sorting the scrap Erwin had pontificated about his plans and Cassius was already sick of hearing them. “Come on, we need to get this stuff out to the infinite. Better start loading up the wagons.”

  A riot of croaking broke out, the rest of Hir’Six’s crew barging through. They were carrying large barrels, two frogletts sharing the load of each wooden cask. Six of them thundered up to the wagons, the creatures leaping into the nearest one with ease. As the barrels moved there was a loud sloshing noise.

  “Guess that’s water,” Cassius said. “Makes sense, we’ll need it for the infinite, especially the frogs. Good thinking whoever ordered those.”

  “Not me,” Erwin said.

  “Me neither,” Alex said. Next to him Casey just shook her head.

  “Wasn’t me either. Looks like my crew thought ahead. Not surprising. Lot of folks look down on the froggletts, so they learned to look after themselves a long time ago. Bloody good thing and all. They’re the lifeblood of the Towers even if most folks don’t realise it. Taken for granted, unappreciated by most. There’s a lot of that going around recently.” Hir’Six’s smile faded. Whilst he wasn’t technically a knight, he was a part of the guild, and the recent rise of the militia had put him on edge as everyone else. “Cassius is right, we need to get a bloody move on before people start asking questions.”

  “Dibs on driving one of the wagons,” Casey said. She had bugged Cassius for lessons constantly since the mission to the mountain pass. They had done them sporadically since, borrowing Simian’s tame machina Ethel to learn with.

  “It’ll be good practice for you,” Cassius said, pushing his wheelbarrow towards a wagon.

  “She’s really into this,” Alex said.

  Erwin chuckled. “Not surprising. It’s the closest thing to a horse around here. And girls love horses.”

  “That's reaching a bit, don't you think? Probably sexist too.”

  “What’s a horse?” Hir’Six said, sizing up which pile of supplies he was going to attempt carrying.

  “It's like a…” Alex began. “You know what, I don't know how you would describe a horse. It's a four-legged thing, with kind of a long head. It's got a mane and it’s all muscle. A kick from one can be pretty nasty. Fast too.”

  “Ah, so an apex predator then. A real nasty beast.” Hir’Six nodded as he spoke. “Sounds terrifying.”

  “Sure, sure,” Alex said. Describing animals to people who had no frame of reference was a difficult thing. “Come on, let’s get going.”

  ***

  Alex found it difficult to look at. Light washed off the surface of the infinite, searing his eyes. Before him stretched a perfectly flat landscape, one that reflected the sun until it seemed to glow with energy. The air had a salty tang to it, and Alex could feel his lips starting to dry out. He felt very glad the froggletts had procured the amount of water they had.

  They had pushed to the east for the best part of the day, crossing the mountains through winding narrow paths that gave Alex uncomfortable flashbacks. He dreamed of explosions and tumbling rocks, the screams filling his mind in the depths of the night. The passage towards the infinite was mercifully much shorter than route north, the mountains giving way to the expanse that now lay before him.

  “This is…well, let's say the name is apt,” Alex said. He was riding in Casey's wagon, sitting next to her as she guided the beast pulling it. “It goes on, well, forever.”

  “At least it looks like that. Is this a salt flat, like those ones they test fast cars on?” Casey was shielding her eyes as she tried to steer the wagon in the right direction. She wasn’t having as much of an issue as Alex, the headpiece of her armour set having a thin veil that at least provided some protection. The machina pulling the wagon was unfazed by the bright light. “We should have brought sunglasses.”

  “Hopefully it won’t be so bad once we’re down there. You think it really does go on forever, or is there something on the other side?”

  “Who knows? The guild has to have tried heading out this way at some point, right? Horton wouldn’t leave something like this unexplored.”

  “Yeah, you’re right.” Alex turned his back to the endless white, the light creeping through his visor too much for him. “Could just simply be an issue of range. Perhaps the airships can’t get out that far. Of course, that would mean the infinite was bigger than the trip to the western frontier, and back again.” It was difficult to fathom just how large that made the expanse they were entering. The infinite was a perfectly apt name for it.

  The path began to wind downwards, snaking around the mountains and levelling out as it merged with the brilliant white surface of the infinite. The wagons slowed as they crossed onto the salt as their drivers considered where to set up camp.

  Erwin hopped down from the wagon he had been riding, strolling partway across the salt, his footsteps crunching as he moved. He turned to face the other wagons, pointing back towards the mountains.

  “We should set up camp a little bit down that way, up against the cliff face by there. We don’t want to go too far in here, it would be more trouble than it was worth otherwise. We can shield ourselves with the rock on that side, and even use it for support if we have to.”

  The froggletts understood instinctively, bringing their wagons to a stop and beginning the long job of unloading the scraps.

  “This it then, anything else you need?” Alex said.

  “Yeah, you’re headed through the swamp on your way to the ruins, right?” Erwin closed one eye in an attempt to cope with the light. “I’ve been talking to Hir’Six on the way down and it turns out the gas they use to fill the balloons comes from something they call a squeaker mushroom.”

  “Squeaker mushroom?”

  “Yeah, they’re filled with gas. They literally squeeze it out. I think from the name they’re filled with helium.”

  “Right,” Alex said. “Squeaker mushroom. As in they make you squeak.”

  “Seems so. Grab as many as you can on your way through. If we’re going to get that balloon inflated, we’re going to need a lot.”

  “Another thing to add to the list?” Casey said, stepping over to the two men. “Feels like it's never-ending.”

  “Look, if you want to take to the air with something that’s been glued together from matchsticks and cardboard, you’re welcome to do that.” Erwin had suddenly found a wellspring of confidence, finally finding himself with knowledge that the others didn’t have. “Maybe we can power the thing with pedals, or oars…”

  “Ok, fine, I get it. Mushrooms it is.” Alex shook his head. “I think that sits above scrap metal, but below giant rocket engine on the list of things that are a pain to get.”

  “Jet engine,” Erwin said, waggling a finger at Alex. “Jet engine. Not a rocket. Very different things. That said, rockets might be a good idea…”

  “Let’s go,” Casey said, nudging Alex on the arm. “Before
he adds anything else to the list.”

  ***

  Emilia sat behind her desk, manicured nails drumming against the wood. The council had insisted that the head of their militia needed an office close to council chambers, but the only room available was a tiny former closet. The grandiose desk they had gifted her barely fitted and Emilia needed to climb over the thing to get out of the room. It was hardly a graceful exit for the commander of the Towers' rapidly growing military force.

  “Four wagons?” Emilia said, scratching away a clump of mud that had gotten stuck to the desk on her last climb over it.

  “Yes, Grand General.” Stood before the desk was a member of the militias recon corps. Emilia had trained them herself, forging them into something much closer to a spy network.

  Emilia rolled her eyes at the scout before her, a tall wyldkin man with bushy auburn hair. The council had given her post the title, choosing something they thought sounded sufficiently monumental. Emilia hated it. Whilst the idea of a impressive sounding rank appealed to her, the word general conjured images of fussy old men with big moustaches and even bigger tufts of ear hair.

  “Intriguing.” She allowed herself a chuckle. “Horton isn’t stupid. The council can’t object to knights acting off their own backs.”

  “No, Grand General.”

  “He’s protecting himself with plausible deniability. Shrewd.”

  “Yes, Grand General.”

  “Do we know why they wanted these wagons?” Emilia leant back in her chair, the hem of her dress waving back and forth as she began to rock gently.

  “No, Grand General. I would assume they intend to travel for quite some time with them,” the scout said. He shuffled about nervously. Having given his report, he had expected to be dismissed immediately. Instead, it seemed like the general was using him as a sounding board.

  “Well, obviously. The question is, why? Were you able to find out where they were going?”

  “They headed east, out towards the infinite, but then doubled back and began heading west. I’m assuming that they were intending to try and shake anyone following them.”

  “And did they?” Emilia said, squinting at the scout through heavy eyeshadow. “Shake anyone, at is?”

  “Well…uh, I mean, by the time I got into the mountains they were already heading back in my direction, so I waited for them to pass.” The wyldkin suddenly seemed much smaller, realising that he might have incurred the wrath of his boss. It was already common knowledge amongst the militia that Emilia was not someone to disappoint.

  “So, they could have done anything at all during that time you couldn’t see them.” Emilia let out a long sigh. “And these knights, you’re certain they’re the ones who set the trap in the mountains.”

  “And defeated the Deus that attacked the city, yes. They’re making a name for themselves, that’s certain.”

  Emilia nodded. “That they are. You are free to go. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure, Grand General.” The scout bowed low, one arm across his chest, his fist clenched. He straightened himself, turned and stepped out of the cramped room.

  “Idiots all around me,” Emilia said. She waited for the door to close and then stood up. She turned towards the back of the room and lifted her hand into the air.

  With a single smooth motion, she pulled downwards, a ripple appearing in the air. With a swish, Emilia gestured to the side, the portal opening, a yawning glowing void waiting for her to step through. Emilia stepped forward, the portal shuddering as she passed across the threshold.

  Emilia found herself in a chamber much more to her liking. A great domed room held up with finely sculpted arches. The chamber was slanted to one side, light creeping in through a stained glass window in the centre of the dome that depicted a large pink star. The room itself was filled with various pieces of furniture that Emilia had acquired. She had an eye for the finer things and a willingness to acquire them however she saw fit. To Emilia, it was as decent a place to live as anywhere else in the forsaken world she was forced to inhabit.

  “You’re back.” Across the far side of the room, sitting on the bed and resting her feet on a table was Anaya, a warrior of the Chosen People. Cast out by her clan and captured by the Towers, Emilia had facilitated her freedom and provided the young woman somewhere to stay.

  “I’m back. I trust there was no trouble whilst I was gone?”

  “Trouble? No. There was no trouble within this bubble of stone. I escape the heretics only to find myself in yet another prison.”

  “You’re not a prisoner,” Emilia said, strolling across the chamber. “You’re free to leave at any time.”

  “Through what doors? I would try to climb to that window, though I suspect the outside may not be much better.” Anaya flumped back onto the bed and stretched her arms out across the duvet. “At least this prison is more comfortable.” She stretched her legs, uncomfortable in the long black dress she had borrowed from Emilia’s wardrobe. Anaya had spent her entire life in the battle dress of her people, little more than some cloth to cover modesty draped with armour plates prised free from machina.

  “Well, then I have good news for you. I need you to do something for me.” Emilia sat down on the bed next to Anaya. “I need you to follow some knights.”

  “Is that it? Stalk some heretics? I thought you would have something more substantial for me. You don’t seem the sort to ask for minor favours. This is a treewraith favour, there are hidden claws. What’s the catch?”

  “The knights I want you to follow are planning something, and I want to know what. And these specific knights, well, you’re familiar with them.”

  Anaya sat bolt upright; her attention caught by Emilia’s words. “You mean…”

  “Yes. The knights that killed your family.”

  Chapter Five

  Aftermath

  Olgan looked out at his assembled forces. He had once overseen the greatest collection of clans since the exodus, thousands of warriors at his call. Now he had barely a hundred, the scattered survivors of a brutal attack. That had been a dark day for Olgan, his army blasted into pieces by the cleverness of an enemy he had underestimated. He had known about the strange flying machines the heretics had at their call but had deployed his forces to counter them. The vicious aether spitting cannons had been an unwelcome surprise.

  It had been a crusade, a holy war to reclaim ancestral lands. There were whispers amongst the handful of remaining warriors that the gods had forsaken the chosen people. It didn't help that an avatar had burst out from beneath the mountainside as if awoken by the blood of Olgan's warriors. It had been hard, to return to those who had been left behind in the villages, the crafters, the farmers, the crying children who didn’t understand their parents were gone.

  He had come close to quitting, to take the walk, the sacred punishment of the disgraced. To put down his weapons, cast aside his title, and walk into where the aether was so thick if formed a glowing wall. To be consumed and changed as the roiling energy saw fit. He had been convinced otherwise by the armoured figure standing by his side.

  “Your force is rather a lot smaller than we expected. Is this truly all that is left?” the figure said. Their armour was painted black, sharp and angular in a way that made it feel blocky. “It’s a good thing we’re willing to help you, isn’t it?”

  “I suppose it is. Though phrasing it like that would make it sound like you're doing it from the goodness of your hearts. I find that hard to believe.” Olgan didn't like relying on the stranger. They were from an odd foreign people who called themselves developers. They were heretics, and Olgan hated having to work with them, but capturing the bones of Berat-Kor was a priority above all else. He would use whatever methods he had to.

  “You’re a shrewd man, war leader. It benefits us to remove the…bones, from the equation. And the forces we are supplying you will make it possible to do that.”

  “We’ll see that, won’t we.” Olgan wasn’t impressed by what he had s
een so far. The developers had provided warriors, as promised, but they weren’t what Olgan had expected. They were an undisciplined rabble, treating orders as suggestions. The exact number seemed to vary every day, the warriors coming and going as they pleased. Their attitude sickened Olgan, on several occasions he had overheard them calling his holy war a game. If it wasn’t for their prodigious strength Olgan would have turned them away. “I’m not entirely sure that this rabble will do as they’re asked.”

  The developer warriors were standing next to Olgan’s remaining chosen. Whilst his forces were arrayed in ordered rows and columns, the developers were milling about in a loose mass. Olgan had wanted to gather his forces and see what he had available, but he doubted all of the developer warriors had bothered to turn up.

  “Scared warriors,” Olgan said, standing up from his chair. “And others. We have suffered these last few months. We have mourned lost loved ones, agonised over what the gods mean for us. Now, we have powerful allies, we consider our next steps.” He walked down the few steps before his makeshift throne towards the assembled warriors. “We must retake the bones. That is our sacred purpose. But even with our increased strength, we are but a fraction of what we once were. We have to be clever. Bide our time and strike, use our cunning and guile.”

  “Boring!” one of the developer warriors shouted.

  “Despite this, time is not on our side. There is always the chance that the pathway from here to the bones of Berat-Kor could close, the aether swallowing our only route. We need to work quickly to secure a permeant path, and that means constructing more binding stones.”

  There was a murmur amongst the chosen warriors, their discipline wavering. New stones hadn’t been forged for generations. Creating one was difficult enough and securing the passageway to the heretic lands would take dozens.

  “I know, I know,” Olgan said, lifting his left hand. “It is a difficult task, but one I believe possible with the help of our new allies. If we don't do this the chance at reclaiming our scared homeland might be lost forever. I have arranged for a crafter to being construction in the village of each clan. Return home, and see what they require, help them as best you can.”