Durability : 5091/8800
Weight: 150st.
Description : A silver necklace that feeds off the grief and sorrow of separation and despair to provide magical protection to its owner. Once a lower-tiered accessory, this necklace has grown in power since being worn in countless battles and having changed multiple owners.
There were two rings, two earrings and a necklace in the box. All five pieces looked powerful, both in terms of stats and because of their history. This held especially true for the earrings since their durability was so low. The Apocosmos was a world of pain, and this was reflected in the creations of its inhabitants.
Alex took each of the accessories in his hands and put them on, feeling the increase in his mental fortitude with each additional piece. Magic Defense wasn’t as important in this battle, since the only spellcaster shouldn’t have many offensive spells. But the rules of the battle were that, once he won, he’d be able to keep all of the equipment. Having heard stories about people fighting magical beasts in the arena, Alex wanted to have a good set of accessories to resist spell damage ready, if needed.
“Now take off these rags,” the minotaur said, and pulled Alex’s clothes.
Without hesitation, Alex undressed down to his underpants, his muscular, beaten, and scarred body ready for whatever equipment was given to him. The minotaur replaced the container which had held the accessories with a bigger rectangular box with an ivory handle in its center. Alex opened the box and came face to face with one of the most well-made leather armor sets he’d ever laid eyes on. The leather of the gloves, boots, and armor was of a dark brown hue, lined with silver thread, while a circlet that looked like intertwined antlers illuminated everything in its green glow.
Name: Woodwyrm Leather Armor +3
Type: Upper Armor (Light)
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Defense: 109
MP Increment: 0
Durability : 149/11700
Weight: 4370st.
Description : Woodwyrms are distant relatives of wood dragons. Their carapace and hide are especially hard but also flexible and light and thus they are used extensively for light armor sets. Armor made of woodwyrm leather is considered to be so comfortable to wear that warriors need not take it off even while resting. If three or more pieces of woodwyrm leather armor are worn together, an additional bonus of 5.26% in Physical Defense applies.
Name: Woodwyrm Leather Pants +3
Type: Lower Armor (Light)
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Defense: 69
MP Increment: 0
Durability : 149/10500
Weight: 2530st.
Description : Woodwyrm pants are difficult to craft but easy to repair due to the regenerative properties of the leather. Holes created by arrows or swords can be closed in no more than two hours. If three or more pieces of woodwyrm leather armor are worn together, an additional bonus of 5.26% in Physical Defense applies.
Name: Woodwyrm Leather Gloves +3
Type: Hands
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Defense: 40
MP Increment: 0
Durability : 7098/9500
Weight: 600st.
Description : The bark-like texture of woodwyrm leather may not be the best for very delicate handling. On the other hand, the gloves provide superior grip, making the wearer less likely to be disarmed and better at climbing. If three or more pieces of woodwyrm leather armor are worn together, an additional bonus of 5.26% in Physical Defense applies.
Name: Woodwyrm Leather Boots +3
Type: Feet
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Defense: 40
MP Increment: 0
Durability : 2588/12000
Weight: 1210st.
Description : The soles of these boots are made of compressed, hardened woodwyrm leather. The unique properties of this material make the wearer less likely to trip even when magical means make the terrain slippery. If three or more pieces of woodwyrm leather armor are worn together, an additional bonus of 5.26% in Physical Defense applies.
Name: Circlet of Forest Matron +3
Type: Head
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Defense: 57
MP Increment: 0
Durability : 8907/11200
Weight: 430st.
Description : This circlet was crafted using the antlers of the matron of the Niarlathun forest. The great deer that acts as the protector of that holy place, replaces her orichalcum antlers once every two decades. The old antlers are gifted by the matron to an individual who has proven themselves worthy of acting as her champion.
This armor was exactly what Alex needed. Dragon, or in this case wyrm, leather was one of the best materials for lightweight armor and the extra defense bonus for equipping a set would make up for the penalty induced by his reckless rage when fighting. He put on each of the pieces and felt them magically tighten to fit his body. Equipment of this caliber was almost always magically tailored to fit every humanoid body type.
The circlet was an amazing magical piece with a story of its own. The original owner must have already seen the last of his days, but Alex would make sure that the power vested upon this item would be put to good use.
“You’re finally starting to look like someone who’d put on a good show,” the dwarf said as he regarded the outfitted warrior. “You think you’ll be okay with these?”
“They’ll have to do,” he replied.
“Hard to impress, is he?” the minotaur said, throwing the human’s rags into the open box before taking it away. “I bet my horns he’ll be impressed with these though.”
Having cleared the table, the minotaur now picked up the remaining long crate and placed it down with care. The wood wasn’t completely sealed shut and a dark blue glow escaped from the crevices. Such a deep blue could only come from a heavily enchanted weapon.
The minotaur opened the lid to reveal two beautifully made longswords resting on black velvet. Their design resembled that of a katana, but with the guard completely missing. Where a guard would normally be expected, the long curved blade simply suddenly changed to a crystal-clear handle that reflected the deep blue glow of the metal. A single word was carved into each of the blades, a different word on each sword. Words Alex could understand. ΔΗΜΙΟΥΡΓΙΑ. Creation. ΚΑΤΑΣΤΡΟΦΗ. Destruction.
Name: Alpha * Omega +15
Type: Dual Swords
Rarity: C Grade
Physical Attack: 325
Magic Attack: 164
Special Ability: Hastened Attack
Attack Speed: Normal
Durability : 15635/24200
Weight: 2270st.
Description : These two perfectly balanced swords are rumored to have been created in Hephaestus’s forge at Mount Olympus. The metal used has been compressed and enriched by the mana ley lines that run through the immortal mountain, while the eternal flames in its bowels have made the material very susceptible to enchantment. The Alpha sword represents the creation of life and has the ability to stabilize dying creatures if the wielder wills it so. The Omega sword symbolizes destruction and has the ability to block restoration spells for its target as long as the blade is touching an open wound.
Not only were these swords masterworks, but they were also Greek in origin, made in the mountain of the Greek pantheon. Alex’s father used to read him stories of the Greek gods fighting the titans and of the feats of the demigod Hercules. How distant these memories seemed now. Only a few decades old, yet reminiscing about them felt like finding memories from a different lifetime.
“These swords,” he muttered. “Where did you get them?”
“Many things find their way to the hells,” the dwarf said. “And our dominus likes picking up the scraps that the hell kings throw out of their planes. These happened to be one of them.”
“I’m keeping them,” Alex said and twisted his wrists with th
e swords in hand to test how they felt.
“Damn right you are. If,” the dwarf stressed the word, “you kill all of the nameless today. Which reminds me…”
The dwarf folded his tongue and produced a loud high-pitched whistle.
“Everyone out!” he shouted when the slaves had turned around to look at him.
Some of the people in the large tent threw their tools down loudly, showing their annoyance at having been interrupted, others left quietly, while still others just looked at each other confused.
“All of you fuckers, out!” the dwarf repeated.
The minotaur bowed to the doctore and took his leave as well, along with the last of the servants in the tent.
“What’s this all about?” asked Alex.
“The healer—” the dwarf started.
Alex cut him off. “Yes, I start with him.”
The dwarf raised his hand to make him stop talking. He seemed to consider his words and took a deep breath before continuing. “The healer is my brother.”
Alex was puzzled. Why he was telling him this right before the battle? Had the dwarf changed his mind? Even if he had, Alex would be damned before he let the sentimentalities of others become obstacles for him.
The swords were perfect for him and he meant to keep them.
“I can’t stand seeing my brother like that anymore,” Yalfrigg continued, his tough facade on the verge of breaking. “He’s my only brother. He raised me when our parents were killed. He saved my ass when debt collectors were hunting me. He took me in when I hit rock-bottom. For more than two hundred years, he protected me. And within…”
The dwarf’s voice broke, and he slammed his still blistered hand on the table, creating a large crack.
“Within two years of being in the ludus, I lost him. I couldn’t protect him. Not from monsters or other slaves, but from himself. I never even got the chance to tell him how sorry I am. Now he’s at the side of the dominus the whole time.”
“He sounds like someone who wouldn’t need to be told that you’re sorry.” Alex attempted to help Yalfrigg, who was desperately trying to keep his composure. “This is what he would have wanted, dwarf.”
“What he’d have wanted doesn’t matter anymore. Even from a distance, I can’t stand looking at him, seeing him serve our master mindlessly. You have to promise that you’ll kill him first. I don’t care what you do with the rest of the poor bastards, as long as you end him.”
“Your brother will find peace today,” Alex reassured him. Instinctively he raised a hand to rest it on the dwarf’s shoulder.
But Yalfrigg swiftly knocked Alex’s hand away and immediately went back to his usual angry demeanor.
“Our venerable master also agreed to bring in a buffer from the outside to prepare you for the battle,” he said, in his newly restored rough tone. “Luckily for you, I found a high-level one available. You’ll receive your buffs just before the battle begins.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” Alex asked, giving his new blades a little twirl.
“That’s the spirit,” the dwarf replied and started heading out of the tent. “Going in,” he said to the minotaur, who immediately ran ahead of them and started shouting.
“Dead man walking,” the minotaur shouted with all his might.
“Rise and kill!” came a few shouts from around the camp.
“Dead. Man. Walking,” The minotaur shouted even louder now, looking at the waves of slaves that were gathering around them.
“Rise and kill!” they chanted in response.
With each prompt of the minotaur, the voices replying became more and louder. A wall of bodies had opened a way, leading toward a building that resembled Rome’s Colosseum—only this was much larger and much more ominous in its architecture. It almost looked like an unholy cathedral in its facade, filled with angles and sharp edges. The entrance toward which Alex was walking had been carved into the semblance of a horned demon’s open maw.
The shouts of the slaves that had accompanied Alex and Yalfrigg were now dwarfed by the bloodthirsty cheers of the people gathered in the arena’s seats, just above them. They shouted in disappointment when a hit was evaded and in lustful excitement when blood wet the sand, guts were spilled on the floor, and brains splattered against the walls. They were the worst kind of evil. An evil that enjoyed seeing a slave being dismembered, but without the guts to do it themselves.
“Good luck,” the minotaur said finally once they reached the entrance into the arena’s bowels.
Alex nodded at him before moving forward with Yalfrigg. As soon as they both crossed the threshold, heavy metal spikes dropped from the top and locked them in. The sounds of the people inside were now muffled but not enough to mask their thirst for blood.
“You hear how much fun the bastards are having?” Yalfrigg asked as the two men walked between a long series of caged beasts. “Make no mistake, they paid top gold to be here.”
A long whip-like tongue tried to grasp the dwarf’s ankle as he walked by a completely dark cell, but he jumped to the side and kicked it away. He continued walking as if nothing had happened.
“We’re reaching the entrance to the grand pit,” he said eventually as a circular opening emerged in front of them.
Bright lights illuminated the exit that was barred with silver rods that ran from top to bottom. And there, just next to the entrance, stood a hooded figure.
“Are you ready, slave?” Yalfrigg asked in a cold tone, probably so as not to show any hint of companionship to the outsider.
Alex nodded and stepped in front of the hooded man. His characteristics were veiled in a shroud of darkness, no doubt to avoid being identified by anyone. Even under the illumination of his spells, the only thing Alex saw was his intricately crafted robes and his hairy hands.
The figure cast one spell after another and once the casting was finished, he stepped aside, took a small gem out of one pocket, and disappeared with a flash.
“Level 56 buffer. Must have cost a fortune. So remember…” the dwarf said.
“I know. To give them a good show.” Alex finished Yalfrigg’s sentence.
The buffs had boosted his stats significantly and yet he didn’t feel any more confident. He didn’t even check the bonuses they provided. Not because he was pessimistic, but because he had set out to kill people and that was something that would happen regardless of buffs and equipment. Things around him were destined to die.
The bars in front of him retreated into the ground and he took a step forward—toward the light, toward the cheers of the audience.
The dwarf opened his mouth to say something but immediately closed it again. He could see that Alex was in his own head at that moment.
“…a natural born killer. A monster of Celtic and Greek blood,” a loud voice boomed as Alex moved into the pit. “Alexander Rage.”
The crowd was ecstatic. They had probably not seen one man go against five for quite some time and were equally enthusiastic about the deep blue glow of his weapons. They could hardly wait to see blood being spilled.
Alex raised his head and looked around him. The main stage of the arena was a large circular pit, filled with yellow sand. There were red patches here and there where blood had dried under the constant illumination of the now full red moon above. In one corner, larger carrion birds were feasting on what remained of a winged humanoid. And above them, around them, people. So many people.
There were humanoids of all the races he knew and quite a few he had never seen before. And there were even more bizarre creatures: tentacle-covered blobs of flesh, animals with human-like heads, and large winged demons. On the highest balcony of all, a bright-red light prevented people from seeing the terrifying figure of the master of this place.
Alex lowered his eyes to the other end of the pit and saw his opponents. Five of them. He focused his eyes on the one wearing robes and holding a staff in his hands.
Name: Hadar Asulf
Race: Dwarf
&
nbsp; Class: Volva
Level: 0
Having absorbed this information, Alex managed to do something he hadn’t been able to do before. He called upon the wrath in him. He reached deep within, grabbed the flaming beast that his rage was by the throat, and pulled it out with violence.
He looked at the reflection of his face in a shallow puddle of water in front of him. This time, his eyes, not just his eyesight, turned completely red. The iris, the pupil, the white of his eye. Everything was gone, replaced by the deep red of thick blood as the final buff appeared on the corner of his view.
Name: Berserkir Awakening
Type: State
Level: 2
Effect: Reduces Physical Defense by 8%, Magic Defense by 16%, Physical Evasion by 4. Increases Physical Attack by 8%, Magic Attack by 16%, Attack Speed by 8%, Casting Speed by 8%, Speed by 8.
Time Left: ???
Description : ???
The booming voice was still announcing Alex’s opponents when he put his right foot forward. Then his left. The last thing he was able to see before he lost control—no, before he let himself go—were the crowd’s faces, yearning for blood.
The introductions were still underway when his leg muscles tensed and launched him forward. Faster and faster he rushed at the dwarf spellcaster with one thing in his mind. The simplest of things. The most beautiful. Carnage.
The cheers of the crowds interrupted the announcer, but nobody seemed to mind. It seemed to Alex that they all held their breath as he roared his way forward, taking hits from the archer. But he didn’t care, for how could a tidal wave be bothered by a fence.
A goliath fighter blocked his way, bringing his towering shield forward. Alex, who already had two arrows protruding from his shoulder, rushed at the poor fighter, stepped on his shield, and managed two long cuts down his back as he landed behind him with a somersault.
Berserker: A LitRPG Urban Fantasy Adventure (Apocosmos Book 1) Page 31
