Chronicles of Ethan Complete Series: A LitRPG / GameLit Fantasy Adventure

by John L. Monk

  The hruuk halted mid-flight, as if hitting a wall. There, suffused with a glowing blackness that lit the world in an inverse shadow, the creature expanded like a bug in a vacuum jar. Again it screamed, though fainter, as if from far away. Seconds later, the visual effect reached its zenith, then began to fade. With it went the hruuk, which crumbled into a pile of glowing ash on the forest floor.

  ENEMY DEFEATED: Hruuk Magi, 900,000 Experience Points.

  YOU HAVE ADVANCED TO LEVEL 449!

  +5 Stat Points

  +1 Class Point

  +1 Skill Point

  The game messages caught me by surprise. Not only was I still alive, but I’d beaten it.

  Off in the distance: “… vvrrrrrrroooooo … vvrrrrrrroooooo…”

  More than one this time. Impossible to beat by myself.

  The river was southeast. If I flew directly east, I’d run into it. Probably. That section of the map was grayed out.

  As my robes lifted me into the air on a trickle of mana, something struck me in the back with the force of a meteor. I tried to scream but couldn’t. When I could breathe again, I laughed. It was Rita, carrying me aloft at the speed of monk.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Would you please quit wiggling?” Rita said after finally slowing down.

  Her vice-like grip had grown painful. We’d been flying at breakneck speed for over an hour and hadn’t talked below a shout due to the wind.

  “Hruuk magi,” I said disgustedly. “Really? How come you didn’t warn me about those things?”

  “I also didn’t tell you about mind trappers because we’ll probably never run into them. There’s all kinds of things in Ward 2 to watch out for. You want me to go through all of them?”

  “How did you learn all that?” I said.

  “Jaddow told me.”

  “Ah, so he thought it was important enough to warn you, but telling me is a waste of time.”

  “God, you’re annoying…”

  I grunted as a fresh twinge of pain lit up my sore ribs.

  “They can’t still be following us,” I said. “We’d hear their wings.”

  Rita stopped and stared back the way we’d come. “I don’t know … From what he said, hruuk are relentless pursuers. Kinda like Terminators. Remember Terminator?”

  “I do.”

  Melody and I had attended a screening of the original movie back in my political days. There’d been an attempt to revive the franchise—modernize it—but opposition had been fierce. Critics thought the obviously fictional story was a commentary on quantum computing, corporate greed, and the proliferation of artificial intelligence into every aspect of our lives. In other words the critics, including me, were spot on. Naturally, anyone who didn’t want to run afoul of the government was against the revival, so it never really took off.

  “How do you know about Terminator?” I said.

  Rita laughed. “I’m a gamer, remember? Gaming is the last refuge of rebellion and original thought. Why do you think I came here?”

  Now that I thought about it, she was right. If there was one thing about Mythian, it didn’t give a damn what you said or did. It also disregarded the government’s draconian views on equality. There was a dryad only men could see. And though both men and women could become comeliness addicts, the tendency seemed far more prevalent among women.

  Rita finally released me and we began flying together at a lower speed.

  “Why so quiet?” Rita said.

  “Nothing. Let’s try landing.”

  “Fine, but I told you—Terminator.”

  We descended to a rocky area reminiscent of western Texas. The dry sand and rock crunched loudly under our feet when we landed. Another desert, though not of the sand and dunes variety.

  One of our favorite conversation topics was how quickly the terrain changed in Mythian. If I were making a game world, I would have wanted it to be as realistic as possible. Why make everything look and feel so real, only to ruin the effect by putting deserts next to lush forests?

  “You did manage to pack the carpet,” I said. “Right?”

  “Yep. Couldn’t save your bag, though.”

  “It’s okay,” I said.

  Rita’s face contorted in pain.

  “You’re hurt,” I said.

  “Yeah. I really screwed my spec, Ethan. It’s gonna take years to balance out.”

  A fresh stab of guilt, but also gratitude, and more. I summoned an apple and handed it to her. She accepted it, smiled, and took a bite.

  Rita could summon pears. Jaddow could summon oranges—a more delicious fruit than apples, in my opinion. Everyone got the food perk. Some people were particularly lucky. That priest we’d run with could summon wine…

  “Oh, no,” I said with a sinking feeling.

  “What?”

  “How did you make the bugs’ campfire explode like that?”

  Sheepishly, she said, “I had to use some of the whiskey. There’s still one more bottle, though.”

  After we set up her new tent—because mine was back with the hruuk magi—we started a fire and drank our first cup. In all my years, I’d never enjoyed the sour bite more than I did that night. It had been a long, amazing, and terrifying day.

  “What else happened back there?” I said. “After the fire.”

  “I kicked one with my biggest hit. Didn’t kill it. I avoided the others as best I could, but there were a lot of them.” She pulled back the sleeve of her right arm to reveal a puckered mass of oozing red scabs. “Something got me. One-half regeneration. Poison. It’ll be fine in a few hours.”

  “Here,” I said, and handed her my cup.

  “No, I’m fine, I—”

  “Just take it.”

  Sheepishly, Rita accepted the cup and drank it down with barely a grimace. A few seconds later, the tension in her face eased as the calibrated whiskey took effect. As much as I wanted more—and I did, being a drunk and all—I refilled her cup.

  “Gan’t blief you killed one,” Rita said later. “Pretty good for a shorsharor … sorshador … wizert.”

  She covered her mouth and giggled.

  “It was pretty close,” I said.

  Too close.

  “Kicked it hard. Nuttin’!” She went to take another sip, then peered into her cup as if searching for something. “All out. Oh … Shorry, Efen…”

  I took it from her and stood up. “Come on. Time for bed.”

  Rita giggled again and got up. I caught her before she stumbled into the fire and gazed into her eyes, so close to mine. There was a moment there … and then it passed.

  “Your wife’s an idiot,” she said softly, soberly. “You’re an idiot too. And so am I.”

  After that, she turned and picked her way carefully to the tent.

  Lost in my own musings, I stayed up for a while longer. I would have summoned a guardian demon, but my gems were gone.

  Dreading what I’d find, I checked on Melody’s demon—still in place, thank goodness. An hour later, when I heard light snoring from the tent, I joined Rita and settled down to sleep.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rita had me hold one end of her bottomless bag while she pulled out the enormous rolled-up carpet.

  “Same ol’ Rita,” I said brightly, “leaving me holding the bag.”

  “Ugh,” she said miserably.

  Yep, Rita had a hangover—one so big, none of her monk skills could remedy it.

  For the next few days, we flew an uneasy balance between too high in the sky, for fear of cloud giants, or too low, where hruuk magi, young dragons, and other creatures could see us. There were no other travelers in the air, but we did notice occasional roads down below. Once or twice, we even saw people using them. At least we assumed they were people. Wisely, we kept our distance. Unlike Ward 1, where flying was limited to higher-level players, in Ward 2, almost everyone flew unless they simply didn’t want to. Which meant anyone traveling on foot was either crazy or a game-generated lucid. Neither of w
hich we had any interest in encountering.

  Each night, we carefully scouted our campsite to ensure the area was free of baddies. With no guardian demons available, we slept in shifts, and we dug our fire pits deep enough to hide the glow.

  On our eleventh day out, the weather turned cold again, and the world snowy and mountainous. Several times, we had to stop mid-air to clear drifts that gathered behind our camp chairs. We took to flying with our chairs turned backward to protect our skin from the biting wind of our passage. To maintain maximum speed, I kept Ice Guard up, and that made the going survivable.

  Late that day, we came upon a mountain town. The name on our map when we got close enough was “Eureka.” We could tell immediately that it was a player town, and not a lucid lair, because we could squint the guards on the walls and see their information.

  Reasoning that if there were guards they must have enemies, we opted to land and approach on foot. The gates, when we arrived, were shut. I wondered if we were supposed to knock or yell to get their attention.

  I was about to try the latter when someone shouted, “Heroes on the road! Let ’em in!”

  One of the gates creaked open, and an average-looking woman in spiky plate armor walked out to greet us.

  “Name’s Brenda,” she said. “Saw your carpet. Could have landed if you wanted to. Lucids don’t fly carpets.”

  Rita smiled. “Just being careful. It’s our first time here. Beautiful town. Really nice!”

  I glanced sideways at her. She was hamming it up a little, but yeah, it was a neat town. The majority of the buildings down the long central lane were of granite blocks with clean lines, timber roofs with smoking chimneys, and slate shingles.

  “You’re not outlaws, are ya?” Brenda said, peering intently at us. “Couple o’ high levels like you could do some damage. But you don’t want to, do you?”

  In my least outlaw voice, I said, “Unless you’re a side of beef and about ten gallons of ale, I assure you we’re completely safe.”

  Brenda stared hard at me a moment, then her face relaxed in a friendly grin. “My kinda guy. What are you, a role player?”

  Mystified, I looked at Rita.

  “Haha, no,” she said. “He thinks he’s charming.”

  Brenda snorted. “Charming? What the hell for? Anyway, if you head down that way, you can’t miss the inn. Only one in town, and everything’s calibrated. I’m on duty till dusk, but if you got any questions, I’ll be by later.”

  Rita and I thanked her, and Brenda returned to her position on the wall.

  The food at The Mother Lode was hearty and delicious, the ale tasty enough to give even Bernard a run for his money. When we’d walked in, the place was nearly empty. But after sunset, the occupancy grew almost to standing room only as players returned from the mines.

  “Actual mines!” Rita said when she found out. “Oh, I’m so in love with this place I could puke.”

  “That much love?” I said.

  Rita giggled. “Make fun if you want. But mining, herbing, logging, furniture making, fishing—that’s the stuff of gaming. It’s so much fun. Resources! Oh, I miss it. When this is all over, I’m gonna come back here and live.”

  I stared at her anew. “You’re really serious, aren’t you? But how is all this fun?”

  Shrugging, Rita said, “It just is. It’s about the time you put into it. You can, um … think about things. While you mine. And … and it just is.” She covered her mouth and laughed. “It always pays off, too. And it isn’t as dangerous as adventuring.”

  Someone at a nearby table overheard us.

  “Not true!” he said. “All kinds of monsters down in the mines. Just like The Hobbit.”

  “Wrong,” someone else said. “That was Lord of the Rings.”

  Another person said, “Still wrong. It was Fellowship of the Rings.”

  “Same thing!”

  Rita joined in the conversation, which eventually morphed into a complicated discussion about resources-per-hour, auction prices, and trade routes.

  For a while, I tried to seem interested. As the night wore on, I suffered a fierce longing for Melody that kept me apart from Rita and her new friends. So long as she was stuck in Heroes’ Landing, anything I did purely for fun felt like a betrayal.

  Well, except for one thing.

  “I’ll have another,” I said to a passing lucid waiter. I’d had more than a few tonight, but not enough to suffer in the morning. Yet.

  Rita leaned over and asked if I was okay.

  I nodded, smiled like she wanted me to, said I was fine, and she returned to her conversation.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “Um, Ethan?” Rita said over breakfast the next morning.

  “Hmm?” I said around a mouthful of eggs.

  I’d been watching as my vitality slowly rose back to full. After my nightlong fast, it had fallen slightly.

  “I have to tell you something,” she said.

  “And I said, hmm.”

  In a frosty tone, Rita said, “You don’t have to be snippy.”

  “Sorry, I’m just … What’s up?”

  Her brief pause showed she wasn’t satisfied with my answer. Then she said, “We’re broke.”

  I lowered my fork. “Totally broke?”

  “Broke enough,” she said. “I mean, we have a little. Enough for breakfast and the rooms, maybe some cheap gear. But we need provisions. You need more gems. We got lucky with those hruuk.”

  “If we had access to our best abilities, we’d have done a lot better,” I said. “Where do I get Heroic Shield? Or Aspect of the Wraith?”

  Rita said, “Where do I get Butterfly Swipe? Adventuring, that’s where. Something you and I haven’t had time to do. Not that I’m complaining … I’m just saying with the carpet, your new spell, and the money you spent to protect Melody…”

  According to my map, we were a day’s flight from the snow angel’s last location. The Hall of Heroes, presumably, though my map showed only gray.

  “What do you suggest?” I said. “Not everything has loot, and I don’t need the points.”

  Rita could barely contain her smile. She leaned halfway across the table and whispered, “Mining.”

  “What?”

  “This is a mining town! Players go under the mountains with picks and come out rich. I talked to Brenda about it. All the gems you buy in the cities come from places like this. Eureka’s a big part of the game economy.”

  I shook my head. “But I don’t want to be a part of the game economy. I want to find the snow angel and get out of this stupid game.”

  My voice must have risen at the end of that, because the hum of conversation died as people looked to see what the commotion was.

  “I’m trying to help you,” she said evenly. “That’s why I’m here. Like you said, you don’t even have all your spells. And I sure as hell don’t have mine.”

  She got up and made for the front entrance.

  “Hey!” I called after her. “Where you going?”

  “Shopping,” she said, not pausing her stride.

  A half-hour later, Rita came back with two pickaxes and two small books.

  “What are those?” I said, pointing at the books.

  “Catch,” she said, tossing me one. “Why don’t you open it?”

  I grimaced when I saw what it was. “Nice try. I’ve used skill books before, Rita.”

  And I had, when learning to ride horses, and on becoming a sorcerer. Banging a shin was more fun. The only way banging a shin was worse was if you did it while reading a skill book.

  Rita snorted. “Don’t be a baby.”

  To show she wasn’t a baby, she opened hers—and gasped when a white-hot nimbus illuminated the book and twin rays of light stabbed into her eyes. When the light faded, the book was gone.

  “Yay,” she said unsteadily, “I’m a miner now. Your turn.”

  Over by the bar, someone shouted, “Hey—got us a new miner! Three cheers for competition!”
r />   On cue, the room erupted in mock groans, rueful curses, and sarcastic cheering. All in good fun, it seemed.

  “Go on, just do it!” someone yelled at me.

  “It’s just a book!” someone else shouted.

  Yet another person said, “Anyone know what level they are?”

  Nobody answered, and I stopped paying attention after that.

  “Here goes,” I said. Then I opened it.

  Blinding pain, like a thousand headaches all at once, but only for a few seconds. I felt unsteady afterward, and everything in the room looked jerky and oversaturated.

  PROFESSION UNLOCKED: Miner!

  Delve the very bones of Mythian for fun and profit. You’ll also gain experience points for the treasure you uncover. Ah, but beware, lest ye dig too deep! Who knows what ancient horrors you’ll find?

  “Ugh,” I said, rubbing my head. “Why’s everything gotta be painful?”

  Rita snorted. “Come on, ya big baby. The next train’s about to leave.”

  Yes, a train—in a fantasy world.

  When I saw it, I couldn’t stop grinning: big, awkward, slapped together with wood and hammered metal for the massive boiler, and a red-glowing rune underneath to power the single-piston steam engine. Even 1800s technology looked more technological than this thing. Really, I was impressed the game let them do it at all, what with the ever-present threat of karma to stifle creative uses of magic. I couldn’t help wondering at the possibilities. Blimps? Airplanes? Ground cars?

  “Pretty nifty,” Rita said as we took our seat behind a group of other miners. One of them pointed out the straps and buckles attached to the seats and told us how to use them.

  After strapping ourselves in, I said to her, “What’s so special about mining? I mean … why did we need a skill? I don’t feel all that skillful.”

  Rita shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.”

  I nodded, then pulled my hood up against the wind.

  The journey through the high mountain scenery was stunningly beautiful, but I wondered why we couldn’t have just flown. Then, when we dropped vertically a thousand feet into a dark tunnel, I began to scream.