The Ruined Temple: A LitRPG Adventure (Eternal Online Book 2)

by TJ Reynolds

  I called up my inbox before I called it a night. Sure enough, a message from Shin had come through.

  From @ShinToeBro44: “Hey, hey! First off, thanks for pulling my funky butt out of the fog. I owe you. Second, we have got to meet up soon. I’m going to be taking a trip tomorrow or the next day. Not sure yet. Not gonna drop any spoilers but oh man is my scheming brain having a field day. Guildies are getting seriously peeved that I’m offline, but screw ‘em. They just want me for my gear! Anyway, let me know what you’re up to in there. We have to hang out soon too. Have you ever played Ultima? I’m guessing you might have, but either way, that’s my choice for our next OG game sesh. Later!”

  I finished the message and sent one of my own in return. The dude had my otaku butt pinned.

  To @ShinToeBro44: “Yes man. Yes! I have played all of the Ultima games, the early ones at least. NES or PC then? I’m down for anything you choose. Then when it is my turn again, I say we play Little Nemo: Dream Master. Not easy, but so weird and fun.

  I’m headed to the ocean! Never been to one in or outside of the game, so I’m stoked. Would it be embarrassing if I just jumped in and splashed a bit? I think I’m gonna do it no matter what you say, so hold your judgements to yourself.

  Other news, the gun bard I told you about, Alysand, killed an ancient wyvern by blasting a huge hole in its head, I have a bone wakizashi, and I am riding Pachi! What a trip this world is. Life is great, bro. And I made enough money off of Marduk that I’m good for another month.

  Let me know when you want to meet. I should be available in a day or so!”

  I still couldn’t believe how much my relationship with Shin had changed. And to think, I had first thought he wanted to hit on me. So glad I’d taken the risk to get to know him.

  As I dismissed the rest of the system notifications, details about nonessential skill changes mostly, I yawned in earnest.

  Pachi spoke to me, pulling me closer with her wing. About time. Sleep with me, fang sister, while you still can.

  I relaxed at last and began the rhythmic breathing that preceded sleep.

  My back was stiff and one of my arms chilled to the bone, having somehow fallen out of the warm cocoon of Pachi’s wing-tent, when Alysand woke me. He gave me a few gentle shakes, then walked back to the guard position overlooking the road to wait for me. A minute and some serious yawning later, I met him.

  The gunsinger was leaning against a tree, his arms folded around himself. Though the night wasn’t cold, it was chilly. There was little wind, but a dampness hung in the air that sunk into the bone.

  He tipped his hat at me as I approached, but he did not make to leave immediately. Rather, he gestured for me to come closer. When I obliged, standing just a few feet away, he whispered, “You have changed much in these last few days, Hana. And not only your fighting style and your bond with Pachi. I wanted to ask you something, though. Why does any of this business—the rangers, the Rat King—why does it concern you so?”

  His eyes were not suspicious in any way; rather, they looked intrigued, as if I was some problem that his brain couldn’t figure out.

  I shrugged and gave him the best answer I could think of. “I don’t know, really. It seems wrong, though, if I were to ignore everything. Madi and I are not from this world, but… it seems real to me.” I chewed my lip for a time, wondering if I’d answered his question at all.

  When I looked up at him, Alysand was staring at me, his keen face lit by the silver glow of the moon.

  He nodded discreetly and said, “I thought as much. So many of you travelers are here only for the joy of experience bereft of consequence. It makes for roguish behavior. I’m sure you know that, though. But you two,”—he gestured back toward where Madi slept against Tejón— “you are different than most. Though the warrior doesn’t seem to know her own motivations yet, I feel she is trying to prove something. Prove she is honorable. It is a childish goal on one hand, but on the other, it is timeless and good. Why else does the knight choose to lift his shield against the forces of darkness? It surely isn’t for the comfort of the thing.”

  Alysand’s voice broke off, and he looked up at the moon. His face had grown older, somehow almost transparent, since his ordeal in the mines. It was like he had taken one step away, moving to another world, and he could never step back.

  Then my ears perked up. A distant sound that was at once distinct and recognizable. Some trick of the road had projected a few hollow hoof beats. I shot Alysand a look and his face projected the suspicion I felt. He retreated behind his tree and I did the same. Then we waited.

  A minute passed before the sound was audible and consistent, and after another, we saw the gray figure of a rider streaking toward us. It was coming from Benham.

  I took my bow off my shoulder and nocked an arrow, but Alysand held up his hand. The rider passed us, not slowing an instant, seemingly unaware of our position.

  At last, the gunsinger looked to me, his face filled with undeniable pain. “It seems we know enough about our friend Mayor Sherman Hesperine. This was his last chance.” He shook his head, stood up, and sighed. More weight seemed to push down on his already-burdened shoulders. Then he tipped his hat to me once more and departed to find whatever sleep he could.

  The rest of my watch was uneventful. I spent one hour stretching and another performing slow-motion kata under the cover of the trees, but mostly, I watched the road in silence.

  As the sun came up in degrees, I reveled in the beauty of Eternal Online. From bruised plum, to vivid blood, and finally the lively orange of flames, the sunrise was enough to hold me enthralled for its entirety. Then I realized what had made this one stand out. A flat and uninterrupted expanse lay beyond a few rolling hills.

  The ocean, it seemed, was waiting for me.

  We broke camp soon after daylight and took our breakfast on the road. Bacon was miraculous and tasted nearly as good as it had when freshly cooked. We finished that first and saved some of the biscuits for a later meal. Alysand planned on making it all the way to Gilsby today, but an afternoon snack would no doubt be called for.

  Pachi and Tejón finished their venison rations, and we discovered a stream a mile or so ahead that we all made use of to quench our thirst.

  We fell into a trot again, not fast enough for any real excitement, but at least double to speed of traveling by foot.

  The trip was looking to be quite boring, and as I was slapping the dust from my clothes and gear during a second break, Alysand spoke for the first time that day.

  “Sherman Hesperine is a man I’ve known most of my life,” Alysand said quietly, having just finished combing his hair and beard with cold water. How he looked so fresh was beyond me. “We are from the same place. A small town called Haddar, just a few days’ ride from the capital.”

  I glanced at Madi, who was soaking her feet in the stream, but she just shrugged. I walked over and stood there to hear the man better.

  “He was just a boy when I was chosen by Corbrae,” Alysand went on. “A bull had rampaged through town, trampled a few people, and it was only picking up steam. I took the spear that hung over the general store, just an ornament really, made with brass instead of steel. Yet somehow, I ran the blade through into the beast’s chest and ended it before matters got worse. The next day, Corbrae showed up with these pistols, and I left with him.

  “We headed into the hills. Even then, few of us remained, so my training was… thorough.” Alysand stopped and replaced his hat, then hunkered down on his elbows to resume his story.

  “I wasn’t allowed to hold a pistol or fire a shot for a year and a day. No. Corbrae taught me how to kill using my body, then knives, clubs, sticks, and eventually the sword and spear. I only learned proficiency, though, mind you. A single year is not long enough to master a thing. But when the old bastard handed me this,”—the gunsinger drew one of his huge pistols—“everything changed.”

  Alysand stopped talking and just rubbed at his face for a moment, ruffl
ing some of the refinement his comb had managed. I thought he was done when at last he began again. “There is an old magic in these weapons. When I bonded with my guns, they taught me more in a single painful second than Corbrae could in his year of training—or a lifetime, for that matter.” He shook his head, as if clearing his mind of something dreadful. “What I’m rambling on about is the first time I worked with Corbrae. News came that a band of thieves had ransacked a farm, and we took to tracking them.

  “We found the thieves in a thicket of trees a few hours’ travel from the farm. No less than twelve men sat around a cookfire when we approached. I thought Corbrae mad when he simply walked up to them. They had at least posted a guard who alerted the group immediately. A few old rifles were leveled at us and a handful of swords. Only the leader had proper pistols on his hip, and he kept them holstered.

  “My master spoke in simple terms. ‘Come with me or resist and die here.’ He was never an eloquent man. The leader laughed, and I remember his eyes. They were filled with an evil fire that I hadn’t seen before. Not the blind rage of the bull rampaging, but a malevolence that was hungry and aware. I knew at once there would be no peaceful end that day.”

  Alysand stared at me, as if trying to impart some message that words could not portray. He shifted his gaze to Madi as well, and for once, the wily warrior grew solemn.

  The gunsinger continued his story. “And nothing can prepare you for that first fight. Slow as melted glass and over in an instant. Impossible to describe. The bandits made to shoot down Corbrae, but it just looked like the man sprouted flowers of smoke. The legs of men facing him were plucked by invisible strings.

  “The last bandit, the one that had kept his pistols holstered, drew when Corbrae was distracted. I thought my master would die, and for the life of me, it seemed like I couldn’t move. But before the man could squeeze off a round, Corbrae had put a bullet in him as well.

  “Then he looked to me, in disgust almost, maybe just disappointment. ‘Go search for the prisoner,’ he ordered, pointing to a couple of wagons that stood nearby. I walked toward them, my legs feeling like overcooked noodles. And when I looked inside the first wagon bed, I found the boy. But he was bound and held by a dirty man, his face a mask of fear and hatred. ‘Leave off, lawman, or I’ll kill the boy. I’ll kill ‘em, see I won’t,’ the man promised me.

  “Something seemed to stir in my chest at that. The look of panic in the boy’s eyes and the crude knife at his throat. My hand shot down to my hip, and my pistol came free. A single shot and the man’s head whipped back, his hold on the boy going slack at once. Corbrae looked at me different after that. His relief was tangible. I’d acted when I had to.”

  Alysand stopped his story and rubbed the palm of one hand with the other. He looked old, too old for the road or gunfights, too old even to ride his horse.

  “And the boy?” Madi asked. I shot her a warning. It seemed to me that Alysand had finished. She wouldn’t look at me, though, intent as she was on the gunsinger.

  “Was Sherman Hesperine,” Alysand said. “And now I fear the man has turned on us.”

  I said all I could offer. “We will be there to help you.”

  Alysand just nodded.

  Gearing back up and preparing to finish our march to Gilsby was the only proper thing to do after such a solemn and honest accounting of Alysand’s past. It wasn’t hard to imagine the pain of being betrayed by the same boy he’d saved so long ago. What had turned Sherman’s heart? Perhaps it was greed, as is the case with so many who fall to evil. But it might also have simply been pressure from a fell hand to bow and obey. Could I resist such a force myself?

  Our company rode in silence for some time, the hours blending together with the unique sound of travel it made. Pachi’s feet clicked along, her claws making high-pitched noises as they struck the stones of the road. Tejón’s feet tended to grind into the road with each footfall, the weight of his body loosening the packed soil. The horse made its trustworthy clip-clop. All together, along with the shifting of bags and occasional cough or chuff of breath, I found myself giggling at the amusing sounds.

  And it was this fascination, perhaps, that saved us. My eyes were closed, and I was listening to the menagerie of sounds we were making, when something new caught my attention—the spill of stones down a slope just ahead and the patter of many feet.

  The sound was subtle, and might easily have been missed, but luck was on our side. I tugged on Pachi’s fur, encouraging her to turn, then shouted to my party, “Ambush! Ambush ahead!”

  Several arrows darted out from the brush lining a hill to one side of the road. Most skittered across the road, but one plunged into the rear leg of Alysand’s horse, sending it rearing. The gunsinger fell but managed to roll free, preventing serious injury.

  Another arrow found a gap in Madi’s leather armor. She called out in pain and her right arm fell useless to her side.

  Pachi and I alone, having been in the rear and first to pull back, were unharmed. We needed to use that to our advantage. I dismounted quickly, pulled my bow from my back, and retrieved several arrows.

  My eyes went wide as I saw three large creatures landing in the middle of the road. They initially looked like snakes, but I soon noticed they were held up by scrawny yet powerful limbs. Each had flown down into the road to stop our progress, their huge wings still kicking up gouts of dust. I inspected them.

  Wyvern Broodling

  Level 25

  HP: 11806/11806

  Abilities: Silencing Shriek, Flare, Gouge

  So the wyverns had joined the fight at last! But only three, along with whatever archers were continuing to pelt us with arrows. Yet even before I could draw an arrow with Vital Aim, a band of burly humanoid warriors barreled out from the side of the road to stand before the wyverns. They were ugly and green-skinned but huge. Even before I inspected them, I had a cold suspicion I knew what these were.

  Orcish Grunt

  Level 22

  HP: 5290/5290

  Abilities: Swarm, Snare, Foul Bite

  There were five of them, each wielding an axe and a hide buckler, though luckily, they were otherwise unarmed. Alysand stood and began his eerie whistling, then fired a quick series of shots into the head of the nearest wyvern. It writhed about, spitting flame as it died. One of the orcs was caught in a single burst of flame, and it howled in pain as its flesh melted and slipped from its skeleton.

  We would need to avoid the flame, then.

  I activated Vital Aim and focused on another wyvern, hoping to hit its eye, and I felt the rush of Madi’s party buff passing through me. Yet before I could release my shot, and before Alysand had the time to continue his barrage, the largest of the wyverns screamed. The sound was deafening, and a chill filled my core.

  Status Effect: Silencing Shriek

  Silencing Shriek: The anger and rage of a Fafniri wyvern has assaulted your ears. No skill or ability may be activated. Duration: 1 minute.

  The countdown vanished from my Vital Aim, and I was left holding a quivering bow. I released the arrow only to see it glance off a bone plate that covered the wyvern’s eye.

  Some benefit had been gained, however, as it seemed to scare the beast, and the flames that had been building in its throat died out.

  Alysand continued to fire his pistols, but without his song, they merely glanced off the wyverns’ hides.

  Madi had dismounted and was charging the orcs, her axes flashing in both hands. And though she could not use both weapons with her full skill, the dual-wield ability had a decent shot at saving our lives. Even as I watched, she struck off the head of an orc, her left hand deft despite lack of training.

  Tejón mauled another, and it seemed the battle was progressing well despite the surprise of the ambush. Then another volley of arrows pelted the bear and he howled in pain. Thanks to his bone plates, most hadn’t found purchase, but a few had sunk into his neck and shoulders.

  Pachi, we’ve got to take out the archers,
I said mentally. Let’s go!

  Instead of responding, she flashed ahead of me and ran up the side of the hill. I sprinted after her and began climbing the slope as another round of arrows fell.

  Madi cried out this time, but she ignored the arrow protruding from her hip, hacking through the buckler and arm of another orc. Those enemies, at least, were easy enough to drop.

  A huge gout of flame burst below us, and I watched in horror as the fire engulfed Tejón. The poor creature yelped and thrashed in the flame. Madi screamed and ran to aid him. Yet when the fire died down, the bear simply moved on to the next orc.

  I noticed with awe that aside from Tejón’s smoking hide and ash-tinged gray fur, he seemed unscathed. A fire-resistant bear, then? Another boon that might prove sufficient to save our butts.

  I was a few strides behind Pachi on top of the hill that flanked the road when she found and killed her first archer. It was another of the tasloi archers that we’d fought against in the forest near Taelman’s Pond. She crushed it in her jaws. The sound of its ribcage buckling in her teeth sent chills across my skin.

  But before I could fire an arrow at the others, they disappeared into the bushes. As I walked forward to root them out, an arrow zipped from a nearby bush and sunk into my thigh. Soon after, another struck Pachi’s foreleg, and she rushed forward to attack the creature. More arrows launched out at us, finding purchase in our legs.

  Use your ability, Pachi! Use Wing Storm now!

  Pachi reared up, a glimmer of lighting passing over her body and sparking in her eyes. She opened her wings wide. A handful of arrows shot out at her exposed chest and I feared I’d made a mistake, but a clap of power erupted from her as she closed her wings.