Labyrinth of Fright (Underdog Book #5): LitRPG Series

by Alexey Osadchuk

  When it came time to distribute tablets, I realized that Gorgie wouldn’t be able to “digest” that many at once even with his regeneration. I could have tried to use all the tablets in one sitting by also using potions and regeneration spells, but a fear of hurting my friend stopped me. Better take it slow.

  I decided to start with the stone tablets but was shocked to discover a system notification saying that doing so was impossible.

  A minute later, it finally hit me… Gorgie had outgrown both Clay and Stone. Now only iron tablets and above would work.

  I used up the Bronzes and Irons and decided to bring Gorgie’s level to twenty. There was no reason to keep sitting on that. Furthermore, there were another two recurring issues I wanted to get to. First, I was hoping to raise the ceiling of my harn’s Mind. And second ― to raise the level of his spell to four. Thankfully, now we had a virtual plethora of tablets.

  — Attention! Your pet has reached level 19!

  — Free characteristics: 3.

  — Attention! Your pet has reached level 20!

  — Free characteristics: 3.

  But alas, the harn’s Mind ceiling stayed the same. Still just one. Too bad… I hope something will change at higher levels. Though I was starting to have my doubts. What if the Great System just made the harn that way, and I couldn’t do a thing about it? In any case, I shouldn’t be complaining. My Gorgie is already smarter than a few of my old neighbors and classmates.

  Then, as planned, I raised the level of Thorntail’s Jump to four. That boost cost me eighty Silvers, but it was worth it. After using the spell to move, Gorgie would now be invisible for forty seconds. The length of the jump was up to eighty feet as well. Truthfully, mana expenditure was up too. Now it was a hundred points but, again, it was worth it. This spell had saved our lives on more than one occasion.

  When I moved on from the spells, I discovered a pleasant surprise.

  ― Attention! Your pet has received a new combat ability: Tail Strike.

  From the description, I realized that the spike that had been slowly forming on the tip of the harn’s tail had finally become a formidable weapon. I immediately invested a hundred silver tablets into the new ability and raised it to the cap. I calculated the approximate damage the harn would deal with his new weapon and smiled in satisfaction. I was already looking forward to Gorgie’s reaction.

  The only thing that bothered me was that it took so much energy for every blow. Two hundred fifty points with just two thousand in the supply. If Gorgie abuses this… And he will, I know him… Anyway, if he does abuse this new ability, he will tire himself out very quickly. Ugh! I wish I had some special loot to improve my pet. It would be amazing if I could at least double the size of Gorgie’s supplies.

  And so, pondering the vicissitudes of fate, I tossed four hundred fifty silvers into Gorgie characteristics bit by bit, never forgetting to keep an eye on my surroundings. In the end, getting him to level twenty cost us four hundred thousand esses and almost a thousand tablets of various kinds. The higher the level, the more I had to spend. But I wasn’t too concerned about that. I had basically not spent even half of what was in my backpack. Something else mattered more ― Gorgie was slowly but surely turning into a highly dangerous monster. And I had no choice but to be happy about that. I understood that our journey was still just beginning, but the first steps, the hardest and most important ones, had already been taken.

  The magister of the Chaos faction appeared at the exact moment I made up my mind on whether to bring Gorgie up one more level. She walked in with an entourage of ten or so snakefolk ― all over level fifty. Her coming was greeted in different ways. The snakefolk hissed obsequiously, the werewolves called back with happy grunting while the others like me just calmly made for the middle of the room. Seemingly, the Black Widow’s sister had decided not to wait for the next morning and was going to open the portal into the Labyrinth of Fright right now.

  The only person not to react at all to the master’s coming was the sleeping mage. He was still just snoring away and, funnily enough, the master of the citadel paid him no mind. No one else did either. This individual was starting to raise more and more red flags.

  Finally, the procession stopped in the middle of the room a few steps from the portal and the magister, not making too big a deal out of it, ordered shortly:

  “Contestants, step forward!”

  As the Gatekeeper warned, there were three of us. Other than me, encouraged by sharp growls and howling from his compatriots, a young werewolf walked into the middle of the room. Stripped to the waist, he was ferocity personified. Taut knots of muscle; tattooed chest, shoulders and stomach; slightly elongated fangs and fingernails that had nearly formed into claws ― the raven-haired boy looked fit to turn into a beast at any second.

  A lithe warrior broke off from the group of snakefolk that arrived earlier. The polar opposite of the shapeshifter. Flexible, gracious. The look in his snake eyes was so arrogant that even I thought he was overdoing it. I was more inclined to believe that, behind all that dramatic flair, he was hiding common fear.

  For the record, the goblin seemed to have been wrong. Nure-onna is not planning to take revenge on me. The snakefolk were here to help their compatriot pass the test. Though who could say? Whatever happens, I’m ready.

  When we stopped a step away from the magister, she slowly looked us over dispassionately. Then curtly demanded:

  “Wrists!”

  The snake kid was first to react. He tore the leather bracer off his right wrist and extended a hand. The werewolf and I followed his example.

  Despite the fact that the serpentine kid was quickest, the magister started with me for some reason. The look on that ugly bastard’s face! That and the malicious snuffling from the werewolf told me that I had just gotten myself into trouble.

  Nure-onna’s hand was ice cold as expected. As was the look in her dark gray eyes. We made contact for several seconds and some text appeared before me:

  ― Attention! You have received the Seal of Chaos! You may now collect Chaos Particles!

  Alright, so the magisters of other factions must be doing the exact same thing. This is how contestants gain the ability to gather the particles that correspond to their faction.

  After the snakeman and werewolf got their seals, the magister turned around and walked toward the portal.

  “You’re done for, dogmeat!” the snake kid hissed practically into my ear as he slithered past.

  The werewolf nodded pointedly, agreeing with the serpentine creature and headed toward the portal which I understood would be opening soon.

  I wasn’t too worried about their threats. Just half a year ago, these ugly bastards’ levels – twenty and twenty-two – would most likely have had me hiccupping in terror. But those times were long gone.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted something stirring to the right. The mage had finally deigned to wake up. His black head of hair looked like a mop. Beard looking like a ratty old broom. Beer belly. Clothes wrinkled and greasy. All that spoke to the fact that this man had long since stopped taking care of himself. When we met eyes, I realized that all my initial conclusions were mistaken. I saw nothing human in his yellow animal eyes.

  And what happened after that I wasn’t expecting in the least. The animal-eyed mage, scornfully ignoring all the others, gave me a sudden magnanimous nod and headed toward the portal. Then an instant later, a notification came before my eyes:

  ― Attention! Passage to the Labyrinth of Fright is now open!

  Chapter 4

  BEFORE GIVING the System my agreement to warp, I mentally ran down my checklist one last time. Mana supply full. As for shields, only muckwalker’s aura and lair had cooled down. Slim pickings. Though I do have invisibility and the mask. As for weapons, I have Spike and Dragonfly. I’m afraid my bow and arrows from the otherworld are still useless. I had planned to bring them to craftsmen in my world to see if something could be done to alter them. But that
would have to come later. For now ― spells.

  The magister wasn’t looking at me, unlike her retinue. The snakefolk were incinerating me with hateful looks. The cunning Nure-onna’s stunt had essentially served to announce open season on me. I can see where she’s coming from. If someone kills your sister, even if there’s no lost love between you, they must be punished. It’s a question of honor. A Primordial’s honor.

  All that time, there was a strange sensation I was unable to shake. As if someone was watching me. Someone I couldn’t see. I stole a look around and realized I was right. Far down the corridor, I could make out the shape of a giant figure in a horned helm. The Gatekeeper. Had he led the magister here? Or had he come to take me? The troll realized I had seen him. We exchanged short nods. It was strange, but that nod from a creature I knew very little did a lot to inspire confidence in my heart.

  Deep breath in. And a breath out. Let’s go!

  I was one of the last into the portal. And the snakefolk and werewolves were hot on my heels. They were waiting for me until the very end. Well, well… let’s play a little game then.

  In the blink of an eye, the darkness of the portal room gave way to a bright sunrise. I was standing in the middle of a broad city square surrounded by three and four-story buildings. The facades of a few of them were adorned with variously colored signage in an unfamiliar language. But I didn’t need to be able to read to know that over to the right was a fish shop, while twenty steps away was a bakery. The city seemed to be just waking up. The traders were opening their little shops and stalls, setting out their wares on their counters and displays.

  The place somehow reminded me of my hometown of Orchus. The architecture, faces and clothing of the people ― it’s like I’m back in the Empire. A sharp metal tinkling to my left, followed by gleeful feminine laughter brought me to my senses. I quickly tossed on invisibility and looked around. No one else had come out of the portal after me. But there had been a whole procession of killers hot on my heels, hoping to see the color of my blood. I wonder where they are. And for that matter, where are the people who went into the portal before me? I had only one explanation: we were all spat out in different places. I chuckled at my thoughts. It would be nice if that hissing and growling gaggle were sent, for example, up to the snowy peak of that mountain far off on the horizon.

  For a brief moment, I even lost courage. So, what to do next? Where am I supposed get these chaos particles? After all, it’s not like I’m supposed to just start slaughtering peaceful townsfolk and their children, right? If that is what this test is, then you can all get Bugged! I’m not having any part!

  Vague doubts started to beset me. Is this really the labyrinth? Could the gods possibly be playing a joke on me and sending me Bug knows where?

  I don’t know how my foolish standing around might have ended if the belltower of the temple looming large on the opposite end of the square hadn’t started to ring out deafeningly. The alarm bell carried over the city, spooking all its pigeons from their roosts. And at once, all the temple belltower’s “brethren” started chiming back from all directions. Something had happened. The city must have been under attack. Suddenly it dawned on me. Were they ringing the bells because of our arrival?

  The merchants and tavern owners as well as early-bird shoppers, much to my surprise, were not panicked by the alarm. While they repacked their half-assembled wares and closed up their stalls, they were just shooting the breeze calmly. Some of them were even in high enough spirits to joke around. Seemingly, this was not a rare occurrence for them.

  I considered walking up closer to hear to what they were talking about when, suddenly, an odd coal-black creature hopped out of a distant alleyway. At first, I thought it was just an ox that got spooked by the bells and broke out of its harness. But when I saw the way its every jump crushed the large cobbles on the road into tiny shards, a chill ran down my spine.

  I froze in place. The black thing went racing toward the merchants as they unhurriedly packed up their stalls. Honestly, their languor very quickly gave way to panic and heart-rending cries. The people had finally noticed the brute running their way.

  For the record, it did not smell me even though I was standing closer to it than anyone else. When it whizzed by ten steps from me, it took my breath away. But I finally got a good look at the monster.

  ― Necromorph (67).

  Oh Gods! How could this be?! How did this monster from the Age of the Dead Wars make its way here? After all, they were wiped out over a thousand years ago. Just like their masters ― the necromancers. Or had our history textbooks lied? Had this ancient evil really returned?

  A drawling aquiline cry and another that followed made me raise my head. Down from the sky a pair of riders atop golden-hued gryphons swooped down on the running monster. They had on shimmering suits of armor, helmets with decorative wings and crimson cloaks that billowed in the wind. The surprise made me rub my eyes. The legendary Guardians of the Wind, the personal guard of the no less legendary King Nidas. Oh gods! They looked just the way they did in my textbook!

  The warriors meanwhile didn’t wait around for their beasts to catch up to the necromorph, which had slightly slowed down. They jumped down simultaneously from their saddles and landed just a few paces from the townsfolk. And they by the way had stopped their panicked scurrying and begun to return to the square with joyous welcoming cries. And rightly so! With the golden level-eighty gryphons and their riders, who were over ninety ― what’s to fear? This is now nothing but a free show they can tell their grandchildren about for decades to come!

  An instant later, the two gryphons fell upon the hideous necromancer-made abomination, their wings spread wide. The morph tried to fight them off, but it was no use. The guardians were obviously not stingy giving tablets to their pets. Not even a few seconds later, the black brute had been ripped into several large chunks. I had the scandalous thought that I should work up the guts to cast an ice arrow at the necromorph, but I chickened out. I just refreshed my canopy of invisibility and slowly edged away from the scene of the battle before anyone detected me. Who knows how the locals will treat some newcomer mage? For the record, I no longer had any doubts about whether I was in the Labyrinth of Fright.

  I reached a narrow alleyway and stopped to catch my breath. The bells were still pealing. From the sky I heard the occasional gryphon screech. Seemingly, undead had infiltrated the city.

  While the werewolves looked like people, albeit distantly, I did not envy the snakefolk or that goblin right now. Nonhumans cannot hide from the Guardians of the Wind. And actually, I’m not gonna summon Gorgie just yet either. I’ll have to stay cautious with the canopy of invisibility, too. As a matter of fact, the best camouflage right now is to just be myself. And namely, a normal kid.

  While walking down the alleys, I occasionally came across well-armed city guard units. One time I decided to risk it and, pretending to be a local kid hurrying back home, openly ran past some guardsmen. My natural camouflage did the trick. Nobody stopped me. In fact, they even told me the safest streets to use. Thankfully, I had already activated the language pack for the local dialect.

  Not having a clear plan or full understanding of why I was doing it, I followed the guardsmen’s pointers and headed to the southern part of town. After all, I also needed to gather chaos particles somehow.

  The ringing of the bells was gradually quieting down, with echoes coming just rarely from the northern part of the city. The bellringers must be signaling to the gryphon-riders where to find the undead.

  The farther I went, the more animated the streets became. No one was running anymore. Life in the city was slowly getting back into its usual groove. Seemingly, the townsfolk were used to such incursions.

  While running past a pub, I stopped and went back a few steps. Walking up to the front door, I peeked inside. At the bar was sitting the very same animal-eyed mage from before. Honestly though, his eyes were normal now. Human. He by the way blended into his
surroundings perfectly. Half the people in the pub looked just like him: beer guts, unkempt beards and drowsy expressions. There are necromorphs hopping around somewhere in town, but here they’ve been pouring mugs of ale and serving up plates of black pudding since early morning.

  “Hey-ho,” the mage recognized me and waved a friendly hand, inviting me to sit next to him at the bar.

  Considering it briefly, I got up on a stool.

  “Ale?” the mage inquired casually.

  “I’d take a nice cold root beer,” I answered.

  The mage snorted understandingly and raised a hand, calling over the gray-haired publican:

  “Get my pal here a root beer. Make it cold.”

  “We don’t serve it any other way,” the publican nodded and slowly headed toward a bulbous barrel.

  “Tired of running around?” the mage asked calmly.

  “Yep,” I answered curtly and sipped at my cold foamy mug.