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

by TJ Reynolds

  The gunsinger pulled a few vials from his satchel. “Keep fighting, Hana!”

  When I turned back and fired my first arrow, I watched it ping off a shield and fall useless to the ground. The shift in my abilities was jarring.

  I kept firing, aiming for anything soft enough to pierce.

  The stock of remaining arrows was running out, and our melee fighters were beginning to collapse, when a horn shook out around us, like a mighty plea that could only be answered with valor.

  The horns the enemy had used before were like any I’d heard in previous games, a high-pitched peal that brought goosebumps marching across your skin as quickly as it sent men and women into battle. But this was deep and lasting, so powerful it seemed capable of popping stone and bursting trees.

  The ratkin, orcs, and trow all paused a moment, as shocked as we were. That made me hope desperately that whoever had blown the horn was not here to kill us. My answer came shortly after. The gate was forced open further as two massive Sirrushi wyverns plowed into town, one of them familiar despite an additional set of spiked armor I hadn’t seen before: It was Harnoth.

  Ashtel shouted, his voice scattering out over the lingering echoes of the horn, “The wyverns have come! Fight with fire and calamity in your hearts. The day is not over!”

  A surge of power coursed through my limbs, and I realized that the horn, as well as Ashtel’s cry, had both acted as buffs, lending our forces additional strength. By the look of the diminished fire in the enemies’ eyes, it seemed to have had the opposite effect on them.

  I shouldered my bow and stepped forward, filling a gap in the line where a spearman had just fallen despite his newfound strength. I pulled my katana free and struck down the first enemy I saw: a trow big enough to eat me. I used Powered Strike and Lunar Flare at the same time and my katana carved through the side of its skull, dropping the hulking beast in a single blow. I winced as my Stamina dipped and decided to fight more conservatively. Though the balance of battle might’ve been tipped in our favor for the first time, the fight wasn’t over.

  I used my traditional kendo, the two-sword style not well-suited for the tight space of fighting near so many allies and enemies. I fought beside Liam and his sister Lilian. They wove around one another, each wielding two short swords. Even if I hadn’t seen their faces, I might’ve guessed they were siblings. They fought in tandem, almost synchronized, so familiar they were with each others’ movements. In their wake, I had less trouble standing against the few beleaguered ratkin or trow that made it to my katana.

  Over the surging crowd of enemies, I caught glimpses of Harnoth and his Sirrushi knights. They were massive and brutal, scattering their foes with mighty tail lashes and tearing them in half with their hands. Harnoth screamed, ripping an orc’s breastplate off and tossing the poor thing in his mouth.

  Bastral dove overhead with Hardel on his back. The gryphon was plucking enemies out of their ranks while his rider stabbed down with a long spear, tearing out throats and skewering ratkin skulls.

  Pachi’s voice broke into my thoughts even as I felt her warm fur and feathers beside me. A glorious battle. And I find you at the front with your fangs out. There is little wonder why I chose you, Hana.

  I looked up and saw that she’d grown yet again, giving me the impression I’d gained a few levels myself. I could always check the progress in due time, though. Right now, my friend and I had more foes to crush.

  For another ten minutes, the battle waged on, yet the enemy quickly waned in their efforts. A burly ratkin lieutenant screamed for a retreat, and I watched a mass of the final hundred or so invaders flee the town of Taelman’s Pond.

  Harnoth stood on his hind legs, lifting his great head over twenty feet off the ground. “Sirrushi! Follow me! Our job is not yet done!” Then the fifteen wyvern knights who had so quickly changed the course of the battle ran after the retreating army, hacking them down with terrible efficiency.

  I stood panting, my katana covered in the blood of a dozen enemies, and saw that over half of our defenders were down, most of those wounded.

  Dandre alone seemed to have the faculties to urge us to appropriate action. “See to the wounded! Healers, do not give up! Let us keep the few who have survived this day! Anyone still able to fight, on me. Let’s purge this town of rats!”

  A dozen of the soldiers, along with the rangers and a handful of players, formed up with Dandre. They ran off immediately to track down the remaining ratkin.

  I moved to follow, but Pachi stood in my way. Fear still claws at my belly. Stay here with the old one and guard him. Tejón and I will go with the others.

  I patted her on the shoulder and she took off in a blur, the lumbering bear behind her. Though they both bled from a dozen wounds, I could see they were still strong.

  Catching my breath, I stood and shook off some of the blood from my sword and walked back over to Quinn. Alysand was surrounded by a half-dozen discarded vials and a few herbs. He was now holding the old man in his arms, chanting a song so quiet I could only hear the rasp of his mouth.

  Madi came up, her face haggard with exhaustion but tilted to one side in a crooked smile. “We did it. I can’t believe the size of those lizards that came and saved our asses. Thank you for becoming friends with them. So glad they weren’t our enemies.”

  She was blood-spattered, and her brand-new armor was scored with a hundred scrapes and chips. One of her arms ran crimson from an unseen injury, but she was still gorgeous.

  “Right?” I said. “Harnoth wanted to eat me when we first met. Now we’re buddies. Don’t try to steal this girl’s lunch money.”

  I broke eye contact with her, not wanting to seem weird, and looked around. Some people were being dragged inside the tent and others were limping along, helping those who were worse off. The players and the NPCs were nearly indistinguishable now, all pulled together by desperation and necessity.

  A nearly silent hiss of steel pulling free of leather made hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I turned just in time to see a tall ratkin coming into view behind Alysand and Quinn. It held a sword over four feet long in its hands, already poised too strike.

  I pointed to the threat. “Madi!”

  The warrior shot out one of her axes to catch the attack before it passed through the back of Alysand’s neck. It was so powerful that a chip flew out of the axe’s blade, and she staggered slightly, though the gunsinger either didn’t notice or did not care. He continued his chant, eyes closed and all attention on the man in his arms.

  The ratkin’s eyes lit with fury, and he swung next up toward Madi’s face. She used Dodge, her form blurring slightly as the blade passed through where her body would otherwise still be.

  Without thinking, I ran forward and attacked, my katana lashing out toward the creature’s face. It parried my blow easily then took a step back, orienting itself to its new opponents. I used the pause to inspect the warrior.

  Sword Master Huang Boa: Elite

  Level 60

  HP: ?

  Abilities: Ghost Step, ?

  Great! All we needed now that we were half-dead and ready for a nap was to fight a level 60 named boss. The Ghost Step ability was likely the one we’d already seen used, but the fact that I couldn’t perceive his other skills was upsetting.

  A smirk covered the ratkin’s face as he spread his feet, lowering his posture and pulling the greatsword up in a relaxed grip. Then he was moving, the sword in his hands flashing out at me and Madi both so fast the fight almost ended several times in a handful of seconds.

  I managed to sidestep the first, then blocked the second, my short sword thankfully drawn by then to support my katana’s block. Madi caught a couple blows on her axes, then activated her Dodge again. I wasn’t sure how she was doing, but my Stamina was already depleted by half.

  Another round of exchanges made it clear that I had to do something to buy us some time. I used Blessing of the Bear and felt my bone armor snap into place, the clinking rhythm of
its assembly bolstering my confidence. The sword master raised an eyebrow as he appraised me for a moment.

  I went on the offensive. Trying to make use of the speed and reach of my two-sword style, I was disappointed to find that the ratkin dodged all of my attacks, not even having to use his skills or sword to do so.

  I ran in and used Powered Strike, hoping to swing hard enough to make contact. A look of disdain crossed Huang Boa’s face as he slapped my sword aside with his own and swung his elbow in the middle of my bone breastplate. The bone cracked, fragments scattering outward, and the entire suit of armor fell away, having reached its damage absorption maximum.

  My health dropped to half, and I struggled to remain standing. My mind reeled at the implications. The bone armor absorbed eighty percent of incoming damage for a total of one hundred percent of my total HP. The single elbow the ratkin had landed on me would have killed me almost twice over!

  The Sword Master stood back, rolling his shoulders. “You are talented fighters, but not strong enough. The mighty Dintheel will sweep across this land if you are its most powerful warriors. Let us finish.”

  He grinned and swept aside the flurry of the attacks Madi threw at him, rage apparent on her features. Then he flashed his sword out twice, turning deftly on the ball of his foot as he did so. Madi dodged the first with Dodge, but the second attack sped up even more. He had known she would use the ability. As the deadly blade tore through the air toward Madi’s exposed neck, a bubble of fire expanded from her center, deflecting the blade at the last minute.

  Madi shouted, “Everything you’ve got, Hana! Now!” A red glow suffused her form: Rampage. Her attacks sped up and the ratkin Sword Master was forced to use effort to evade the many attacks.

  I pressed forward as well, hoping our combined effort might be enough to bring him low. I used Samurai’s Last Stand and Wings of Righteousness at the same time, the increased speed combining with Ranger’s Reflex. The percentage increases compounded, making me feel as if my veins were filled with jet fuel.

  Huang Boa leapt back a dozen feet, trying to buy himself time. Madi fell behind as I charged forward, and as his own blade darted out like a snake to meet my own, I played my final card. Edge Dancer gave me ten seconds of attacks at triple speed. Compiled with my current buffs, my body was moving at almost five times my normal speed!

  For the first time in the fight, the Sword Master looked almost sluggish in his movements. I attacked with all of my fury, my sword striking the armor over his thigh, then ribs. More cuts chipped away at the ratkin’s breastplate and helm, each penetrating enough to cause sprays of blood to arc through the air. I ended on a Powered Strike and Lunar Flare combination, my katana careening toward his neck.

  Huang Boa’s eyes registered surprise, and suddenly his form became distorted, almost as if he were flickering in and out of existence. My sword passed through him and the sword master grinned, all confidence returned. I threw a few more combinations at him, but nothing touched him. Whatever skill he’d just used had effectively wasted the last of my super speed.

  Edge Dancer stopped, and I slowed down again. And though Wings of Righteousness still had another minute until it expired, the speed and power of the Sword Master’s next move told me that our window was lost.

  To make matters worse, a quick glance at his HP told me that I had only inflicted perhaps twenty percent damage.

  Madi’s globe of protection faded and Huang Boa focused on her, most likely wanting to finish Madi first as she was slower than me. She stomped the ground before her, and the earth rippled outward, spraying rock in its wake. Since when could she do that?

  Huang Boa hunkered down, resisted the skill, flashed his sword out six times, meeting each of Madi’s Whirlwind attacks. When she finished, he darted forward and shifted his weight at the last minute, moving all of the force of his charge into his shoulder. He smashed into Madi, holding his position like a boulder fallen from the sky, and Madi tumbled away, crashing into a nearby house.

  The master sprinted toward me, sword held out to one side. My end was approaching on swift whiskers, and I had no hope of meeting it.

  To my credit, I parried the first three attacks, but then Huang Boa’s sword blurred, and I felt cold steel bury itself in my gut. He twisted the blade and tore it out, spraying the air with my blood. I fell to my knees and watched as the ratkin pulled back to take my head as well, perhaps to keep as a trophy.

  Then a wall of fur and flesh barreled into Huang Boa. It was Tejón, and his head had strange growths sticking out. He kept charging until he smashed the sword master into the side of Quinn’s store, the wood cracking in places, his growths puncturing the ratkin’s body. I wanted to warn the bear. The Sword Master wasn’t done, and he most likely had some other trick up his sleeve. But Pachi flashed into view, her Flamewalking ability taking her close enough to stand at the shoulder of the bear.

  Then her whole body erupted with light.

  I squinted, vaguely aware of the warmth spreading down my belly and thighs, and watched the brilliance emanating from Pachi’s body coalesce into a beam that pulsed out, blasting a hole through Huang Boa’s body and burning away Tejón’s stony crown as it did so.

  There wasn’t enough of the Sword Master left to lift a hand, let alone fight back, so I smiled, slumping to the ground.

  What an amazing creature. And she was mine?

  I smiled even as the town of Taelman’s Pond disappeared before my eyes. Then the pain and the heat of injury and fear were no more.

  6: “History is a cyclic poem written by time.”

  — The Blasphemous Bard

  ALYSAND

  The town of Taelman’s Pond—what was left of it, at least—was happy despite its many losses. Food was brought out of cellars, livestock were slaughtered, and a feast was underway.

  No doubt, these people would be eating for a few days straight. Nothing cures the heart more than a full belly and the laughter of loved ones. I laughed at my own wandering mind. The words of my mother, for once, flitting about inside me and not Corbrae.

  Since I’d learned of the old man’s death, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. His lessons, the beatings he’d given me, the men we’d killed together. It was as if knowing he was murdered had brought him back to life within me.

  I had no plans of feasting, though. My days of excess were over. In fact, I’d never truly known them. But after hearing of all those who I’d lost in Gilsby, after losing Delilah, I just couldn’t stomach as much as I used to. So instead, I cracked into the apple the boy had brought me. It had pop, as fresh as they come, and I savored the taste as I chewed.

  “Told you they were good,” Abra said behind me.

  The kid seemed to be everywhere underfoot. Under my feet, at least. The boy had taken a liking to me, and I had a suspicion it had something to do with my pistols.

  “And you were right,” I admitted, then stood up and began my walk back to Quinn’s shop.

  Yet another meeting was being held on the porch of the weapon’s store, still standing despite the loss of so many other buildings. The Sirrushi wyverns had returned after a few hours of intense hunting, and most were camped outside of town amidst the wreckage of the enemy’s abandoned camp.

  Harnoth had reported that the forest had been damaged in the army’s passing and short occupation, but that the trampled woodlands would quickly recover. They had even gone so far as to bless the area with their magic. Even I was too young to remember a time when the wyverns had used their magic on anything other than themselves, but many stories told that they were once as potent at stirring up nature to their will as the elves. The forest outside of Taelman’s Pond would soon be a place of deep magic, the maldrilles as eager to intertwine with magic as always.

  When I sat on an upturned barrel, a few feet away from Harnoth’s somber face, everyone stopped talking and turned to me. I tipped my hat and said, as casually as I could, “Please, continue.”

  Marshal Dandre cleared her
throat then did as I asked. “If what we hear is true, we should make our move, and do it soon. There is little hope waiting around and defending. I say that we send Quinn to the Elders in the Lemish mountains, then assemble our forces and march on Drok Shapol. Even if we remain outnumbered, with the Sirrushi aiding us and the horse men as well, there is a chance we can succeed.”

  “But how can we know for certain?” Corell said, his denial ironically sounding hopeful. “Maybe the trolls are simply performing a pilgrimage, or else migrating to new hunting grounds.”

  Hardel spoke up then, the hardy ranger attempting to tame his booming voice and failing. “No, I am sorry, but that cannot be. Bastral said that the entire troll population, at least three hundred strong, were marching south along the coast. They have never done so before. No hunting grounds lie there, and every place they keep as holy lies only in the frigid north. No, they have joined the Rat King as well.”

  Harnoth spoke next, and judging from everyone’s rapt attention, he hadn’t done so often. “The ranger is correct. The trolls haven’t been so far south in over three hundred years. They are no longer among our allies. Yet more of the old races remain despite their numbers lacking. We will summon whatever creatures of the deep that still remain sentient.”

  Everyone nodded gravely, considering the situation. Then Dandre looked up at me, an idea dancing in her eyes. “What of the Queen? Alysand, surely if you return to the capital and ask for aid, you might succeed in summoning a few hundred royal soldiers. Then this new threat would be quashed out before it grew any further.”

  Taking a deep breath to give them the impression I was thinking, I slowly shook my head. “I will of course try, but the queen has long lost her wits and the will to lead her people effectively. No doubt she will instead have my head mounted on a spike for sowing conspiracies. I would have more faith in requesting the aid of the lords of the realm instead. Maybe we could visit a few, especially those in the West, near Drok Shapol. Lord Buckmere’s keep is less than a hundred miles from the Rat King’s lair. I would go there first if anywhere at all.”