Star Paladin: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 1)

by Eddie R. Hicks

  “No, sir.” A shake of the head. “There has been . . . an incident.”

  “Fine!”

  The ghostly-looking imperial faded, and Leafblade spun to the exit that Xanthe was peeking through. Her heart jumped.

  Xanthe ran before Leafblade could see her and hid within the darkness of the ship. Leafblade walked out of the room, turned to the right, and vanished down the hallway. He left Rachael alone, so Xanthe slipped in as she placed her dual scimitars at the sides of her waist.

  Rachael watched Xanthe enter and shot her an angry scowl. “Oh, look, it’s the backstabbing shadow angel.”

  “Shut up.” Xanthe eyed the strange magical ropes used to tie Rachael and make her float in the air. She searched for a means to remove them, found none, then touched the rope—

  A hot surge of pain singed Xanthe’s fingers.

  Xanthe jerked back with animal instinct fear. “Is this machina . . . or is it magic?” She flicked her burning hand about.

  Rachael gestured her head to the side. “That switch should disable it.”

  Xanthe found the switch, a yellow nob on the center terminal. The terminal was strange, and gave Xanthe pause. It had hovering lines of words written in a foreign language she could not read. Xanthe went for the switch, flicked it up, and the machina ropes disappeared.

  Rachael fell to the floor face first with a loud thud. The star-fae cursed and raged.

  Xanthe watched as Rachael pushed up, rubbed her head, then brought up her status screens, her fingers flicking through them quickly.

  “My powers are back,” Rachael said. “I think that rope was preventing me from using them.”

  Xanthe opened her Inventory screen, then pulled out Rachael’s Oak Staff and handed it to her. “I believe you dropped this when they arrested you.” Rachael took the Oak Staff and strapped it to her back. Xanthe nodded to the exit. “Shall we depart?”

  “Hold it, why are you helping me?”

  “I am here to finish our original plan: hijack a sentinel ship so you can leave this world.”

  “You sold me out.”

  “I had to do something,” Xanthe said. “Leafblade would have had us killed otherwise. That’s why I asked them to hold you here. I thought a star-dweller like you could take control of this ship after breaking free.”

  “Clearly, you were wrong about me,” Rachael spat. “I’m a nurse, not some commando.”

  “You are a Medic now, and the affliction has given you the power to fight and cast healing magic. I thought you might have found a means to.”

  Xanthe sent Rachael a party invite. There was a five-second hesitation before she accepted it.

  Xanthe | HP: 504/504 | MP: 0/0 | AP: 0/100

  Rachael | HP: 313/313 | MP: 226/226 | AP: 0/100

  The two turned to leave, stopped at the door, and looked both ways down the halls.

  “The next time you come up with a half-baked plan,” Rachael whispered, “have the decency to let me know beforehand.” They left the chamber, their soft footsteps ambling across the metallic floor. “Which way?”

  “I came from there,” Xanthe said, pointing to the exit's direction. “If we plan to capture this vessel, we will have to go in the opposite direction.”

  Xanthe led her in that direction—the same one Leafblade walked in—and they made their slow stride to the end of the ship. Or was it the forward side?

  Xanthe looked at Rachael and saw that she was giving the hallway walls and ceiling a long stare. “That look on your face is the same I had when I climbed aboard,” Xanthe said. “This design is not standard among your people, correct?”

  “No, it’s not,” Rachael said. “I have no clue who the sentinels are or where in the galaxy they came from.”

  They spotted a peculiar device on the floor with a pillar-like object on its center. On the pillar object was a flickering list of words written in another language. Xanthe did not know what to make of the machina. Rachael stopped in front of the device while raising one finger to poke at it.

  “This looks like an interface,” Rachael said. “I wonder if this is the control center.”

  Rachael fingered the interface.

  A burst of light erupted upward and transformed their surroundings to appear as if they floated among the stars.

  “What is that?” Xanthe asked.

  The sight of the rotating batch of stars encircling them shocked Rachael. She pointed at it. “This is a holographic map of the galaxy . . .” The map changed, making the bottom left section of it zoom to provide a closer glimpse of the stars. “That’s the region of space we’re in.” It zoomed again. “And that’s Faeheim.”

  The two stood shoulder to shoulder as they gave a lengthy look at the image of Faeheim seen from space. Red lines with floating words pulsed on the globe. The lines appeared around the various cities of Faeheim, such as Holt.

  “I do not understand this language,” Xanthe said.

  “Same here,” Rachael added. “I don’t know what these graphics mean—”

  “This is the spread of the Reality Corruption,” echoed the voice of an unknown person, their voice deep and sage-like.

  Xanthe spun around, her eyes unable to locate the third party. “Who said that?”

  “I did.”

  The two turned to the slowly rendering image of a dragon covered in magnificent white feathers.

  “The White Dragon . . .” Xanthe gasped.

  She tried to stroke its soft feathers, but her hand went through the dragon as if it were not there. Rachael did the same, and her hand passed through the dragon’s ghostly form.

  “It’s just a projection,” Rachael said. Facing the dragon, she added, “Though don’t keep us hanging about the Reality Corruption. I take it that’s the official name of the affliction?”

  The White Dragon’s form vanished for a second, then returned, its head nodding in response. “Corruption, affliction, the blessing of Asteria. It has various names, but yes, that is the name. As you can see, it is spreading across this planet, changing its people, animals, and the landscape itself. Living creatures transform when they die and become soul crystals or items.”

  “Why?” Xanthe asked.

  “It is part of the rules the old ones established.”

  “Who are the old ones?”

  “I do not know, Xanthe,” said the dragon. “This is why I asked you to complete quests.”

  “The quests . . . the same ones you gave to Guy?” Rachael asked.

  “It was my only means of communication with you, without alerting the sentinels. I need you and Guy to put an end to the crystal harvest.”

  “Is that why the empire attacks people who’ve become afflicted?” Rachael asked.

  “Yes, they know that upon death, the corpses of humanoid life will transform into soul crystals.”

  “I saw the imperials give the crystals to the sentinels,” Xanthe said.

  “The sentinels are responsible for this. They want the corruption to spread to other planets and infect their population.”

  “Wait,” Rachael said. “So, Faeheim isn’t the only planet corrupted?”

  “No, which is why I need you to stop this, or the galaxy—and eventually the universe—will undergo extreme changes.”

  “Changes the sentinels want.” Xanthe took half a minute to process it. “And Averyl, what is her role in all this? Because the empire plans to execute her on the island below.”

  “Then you must free her.” The dragon’s form flashed and flickered. “I cannot maintain this form for long. Please, heed my words and gather allies. The fate of the universe depends on it—”

  It disappeared.

  “Fuck!” Xanthe clenched her fists and stepped where the dragon’s image used to be. “No!” She faced Rachael. “Get it back!”

  Save the Princess

  Objective: Free Averyl Autumnfall from the Jenkovi executioner.

  Issued by: White Dragon

  Reward: 2500 Experience Points

&nbs
p; Accept quest? Yes/No

  Rachael hit the terminal, but nothing happened, just the sound of her fists banging on it. So, she increased speed and slammed it again—

  Crack.

  Rachael broke the machina.

  “Oh, damn.” Rachael stepped back. “Forgot about my new strength.”

  Red lights flashed from the ceiling, releasing a noise so loud and annoying Xanthe had to cover her ears. “What did you do?!”

  Rachael shrugged and backed away from the broken machina. “I guess breaking computers is against sentinel law because now they’ve sounded the alarms.”

  In the halls, they heard voices speaking a strange alien language.

  And they were getting closer.

  “Umm . . . run!”

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Henrietta opened her eyes, staring up at Guy and the ceiling of the prison hallway. He held her head on his lap when she had woken up, then grabbed her glasses back and offered them to her. She slipped them back on and sat up, rubbing her left hand across her head.

  “Ow,” Henrietta said, giving it a good rub. “My . . . head.”

  Looking at Henrietta closely, Guy could see her information appear above her.

  Henrietta (Berserker) | LVL: 1 | Rank: D

  She stood and turned toward Guy as he got to his feet. “What happened?” she asked.

  He gave her the grim news. “You’ve been afflicted, Henrietta.”

  Her eyes and brows shot up. “I have?!”

  Guy pointed at the two-handed axe on the floor, the Autumnfall Cutter. “Try using that.”

  “What? Her?” Zuran cut in. He eyed the hefty axe then eyed Henrietta, the librarian who had never spent a day in the gym. “There is no way she could—”

  Henrietta picked up the Autumnfall Cutter with one hand and held it steady with her second hand's aid. She swung it with ease. Maybe a little too good. Guy and Zuran had to duck from the swing. Henrietta giggled as a strap on her back materialized from a slight flash of light, giving her a place to strap the Autumnfall Cutter. It looked like the weapon had no weight, and Guy knew the feeling. Asteria’s Sword was the same.

  “Surprised?” Henrietta said to Zuran.

  “Yo, that thing is heavy,” he said.

  “Not for me . . .” Henrietta said. “It weighs almost nothing.”

  “It’s because of your strength stat,” Guy said.

  “Maybe . . .” Henrietta opened her Status screen and gave it a long stare while stroking the side of her left cheek. “But I am not a very strong person.”

  “The affliction cares not for reality,” Kam said. “It re-writes reality the way it wants it to be.”

  “Yeah,” Zuran said, studying the biceps on his arms. “I have huge muscles, but I am not as strong as I used to be before the affliction changed me.”

  “That book makes up for that,” Guy snorted.

  “A book?!” Henrietta’s eyes lit up again as she saw the tome Zuran held. “Right, that book—as I was saying, it looks—”

  “Over here! I found them!”

  The imperials made their second strike, sending more armored fae to their position.

  “How about we save this for later?” Guy said, turned to the incoming soldiers, hands around the hilt of his sword. “We’re kinda in the middle of a jailbreak, right?”

  The three stood ready, and this time, Henrietta stood with them. She yanked the Autumnfall Cutter from its rest on her back and entered a combat-ready stance, like she had trained to be a warrior. A warrior who looked like a librarian wearing high-heeled shoes.

  Guy shot her an invitation to the party, topped up his HP with two of his hyposprays, then grimaced. He had seven hyposprays left.

  Guy | HP: 703/758 | MP: 188/188 | AP: 80/100

  Zuran | HP: 314/314 | MP: 74/782 | AP: 0/100

  Kam | HP: 218/385 | MP: 172/300 | AP: 70/100

  Henrietta | HP: 80/80 | MP: 0/0 | AP: 0/100

  “Okay, Henrietta,” Guy said as he charged into the fight. “You’re about to get hit with a bunch of tutorial screens.”

  Two screens appeared in front of Henrietta. “Already am.”

  “Just ignore them for now!”

  “What do I do then?”

  “Uh, just bash assholes with that axe, and when you get AP, use one of your skills.”

  They were a party of four now, taking the edge off Guy’s head and beating heart. He just had to focus on keeping the imperials away from Kam, Zuran, and Henrietta, while hoping the three delivered the pain to their enemies fast.

  They did. And Henrietta gave no quarter. She was level 1 and going all out in her skirt, blouse, and high-heeled shoes—and kicking a lot of asses. The astral circuits turned her into an axe-wielding warrior librarian!

  That’s going to get her killed, and we have no way to rez anyone! “No, wait! You’re level 1!”

  And it showed—after landing six back-to-back axe strikes, Henrietta’s weapon did minor damage. She stood back, eyes wide open in shock, and put one hand over her lips. “Oh, dear.”

  Two more hits and Guy would have 100 AP, so he dove toward the imperial Henrietta was in front of and used his body to shield her from their attacks. The maneuver cost him 72 HP—then 82, then 115.

  But that didn’t matter. Guy had to make sure Henrietta didn’t end up like Dianna and her brother. After drawing the enemy’s attacks, Guy made the two strikes necessary to get 100 AP and twirled around for a devastating Storm Slash. Asteria’s Sword cut right down to the imperial’s lungs, and the armored fighter keeled over dead. One imperial lived long enough for Guy to run over and shove his sword up and into his jaw, spearing the guard’s tongue to the roof of his mouth. The tip of Asteria’s Sword poked through the top of the guard’s head. Behind, Kam and Zuran dispatched the two soldiers they had to deal with.

  Guy led the way through the darkened prison as the three followed behind.

  “I couldn’t find any AP skills,” Henrietta said.

  Zuran looked at her. “She needs sigils.”

  Guy sighed. “That’s right.” He stopped to give her a quick rundown. “Henrietta, check your inventory. You should have a class-specific sigil there.”

  She pulled it out. “Found it!” She held the symbol closer to her glasses. “Sigil of the Gladiator.”

  “Put it on your body . . .”

  “Uh, where?”

  The only part of her body exposed for the sigil to work was her legs, thanks to the skirt she wore. “Uh, your leg.”

  Henrietta lay the sigil on her left leg, smiling down as the glowing symbol etched itself there as if it were a tattoo. “Well, that’s rather provocative.”

  “What skill did it give you?”

  “Thundering Blow,” she said while reading the skill's tooltip. “Says here: Your next attack will damage anything in front of you. Potency 30, and an AP cost of 100.”

  They resumed their escape, making left and right turns in the dark halls.

  “She’s melee-focused, it seems,” Kam said. “If they target Henrietta at her level, she will die a quick death.”

  “What if I hit and run?” Henrietta offered. “Swing to get AP.”

  Guy liked her quick thinking. “Then charge in when I have their attention? Yeah, that could work.”

  “Don’t let the prisoners escape!”

  In stepped more imperial soldiers, blocking their path to escape with their armored bodies. Guy had a feeling they were getting close to the exit if his party kept encountering guards.

  Henrietta played her role as the low-level Berserker, waiting for a chance to hack away limbs with her Autumnfall Cutter, build AP, and hold it when the time was right. Even at level 1, her attacks still brought some pain, and every soldier killed gave her the experience points needed to level up. The imperials were much higher than her, meaning she got a lot more experience than Guy used to get during his level 1 days.

  Henrietta was getting a power level.

  From behind, Kam assaulted with hi
s Heavy Lance and tossed in a mix of boiling water spells. Henrietta kept up her hit-and-run tactics. The second guard tried to stop the melee duo of Kam and Henrietta, so Guy spun, gave the imperial the middle finger as he used Provoke, and kept the soldier glued to him. When the time was right, Henrietta ran in when she had AP and used Thundering Blow.

  Henrietta has attained level 2!

  Blood-gushing bodies hit the floor, and Henrietta just stood there, laughing. A low-level Berserker had delivered the kill shot.

  Henrietta lay the Autumnfall Cutter’s haft over her shoulder. “That was quick.”

  Guy nodded. “They’re a higher level and yield more experience for you.”

  The path was clear now, and the party ran ahead, making their way to a door. Behind the door lay a staircase leading to the surface.

  Guy opened the door, took one step forward, and screamed.

  Sixteen imperials were in the stairwell. Or was it twenty? Who knew? All Guy knew was that they pointed up at his frightened face.

  He slammed the door quickly. “Okay, so, going downstairs is a terrible idea!”

  “This way,” Kam said, peering down a connecting hall. “I see sunlight around the corner. I think the rooftops should be up a flight of stairs over here.”

  Following Kam, the four ran down the hall, made a left turn, and found the stairs Kam predicted. They arrived on the keep’s rooftops, giving a breathtaking view of the valley beyond and a depressing look at the razed city of Coldhorn. Guy stood at the rooftop’s edge and backed away slowly. It was a long way down to the grass below.

  “Find a place to scale down,” Guy said.

  Zuran spotted something of interest ahead of the edge he was at. “I think I can fly us all down.”

  “What?” Kam said while stepping toward Zuran. “Even for a fae, your wings cannot possibly keep you safe while you carry us, lad.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” Zuran spread his buzzing dragonfly-like wings. His feet no longer touched the ground. Zuran was in the air and spun back to look down at the group, his face and fae wings showing no signs of fatigue. “Turns out I have a trait I missed at level 9. It boosted my flight stats. My wings are not getting tired at all.”

  Guy looked at the drop. “You think you can pick us up and then fly us down?”