The Dungeon Slayer: A LitRPG Level-Up Adventure (The Dungeon Slayer Series Book 1)

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The Dungeon Slayer: A LitRPG Level-Up Adventure (The Dungeon Slayer Series Book 1) Page 2

by Konrad Ryan


  “This beast, Raekast, destroyed South America in its entirety. She then appeared on the continent of Europe. She ravaged it without mercy for days. The world had no way to stop her, nuclear weapons were ineffective. Bullets fell off her hide like rain from a leaf. Had we not discovered rebirth, humanity would have ended fifty years ago. This terrible event was called ‘The Great Disaster.’

  Tad had heard this story a thousand times. He was sick of it.

  “It was during this disaster when the first rebirth globe was discovered on the ruined continent of South America. Charles Tidwell, the strongest creator ever reborn, found the globe. Charles explained that he saw the globe in a dream. It drew him to it. Compelled him to find it. Upon touching the globe, his hidden potential was unlocked. He gave the rebirth globe to the American public, who started rebirth ceremonies en masse, before he flew across the Atlantic Ocean and began his battle with the Raekast.

  “For four days the earth shook from their powerful attacks. Tsunamis decimated coastlines across the world. Millions died. But Charles Tidwell rose victorious, the Raekast defeated.”

  The old man paused, as if he were reliving his memories. He looked old enough to have lived through the Great Disaster.

  “The Raekast as her last act of defiance unleashed a horrible energy and summoned four enormous structures filled with monsters just like herself, albeit weaker. This was the first time the world encountered what we now call ‘dungeons.’”

  Dungeons. Almost video games created into actual life. Friends and parties hunted the monsters within. Real raids and boss fights. Footage of dungeon exteriors were plastered all over the internet, but never on the inside. Dungeons had always been interesting to Tad, but he’d avoided most information about them. Dreaming was painful. He would just be let down. He would be normal. Civilian. Unable to enter dungeons and their depths.

  “The dungeon’s doors flung open and trillions of titanspawn poured from within. Charles Tidwell and his party of creators entered and defeated three of the four. Their doors closed, and the dungeons disappeared. The fourth dungeon, Titan, remains on the former continent of South America. Charles Tidwell and his expert party of slayers entered and found their final resting place within. The rate of the titanspawn continues to increase, even to this day. The day may soon come when titanspawn cover the sky beyond repair and humanity freezes. Or starves. When the creators cannot scrub the sky fast enough. Some estimates put that date within the next decade. If that happens, life on earth will cease.

  “Along with Titan, other smaller dungeons started to appear across the world with increasing frequency. These dungeons need to be closed. They produce titanspawn and mar the skies. These smaller dungeons generate fifty percent of all titanspawn. Those who enter these dungeons to defeat their dangerous denizens are known as slayers. They do humanity a great service. They literally save the planet, one dungeon at a time. But, even if you’re reborn to power, there’s no obligation to become a slayer. You could become a supporter. Many service industries could use your strength. Healers, fire forces, skyscrubbers, and crafters, are just some important supporter positions that keep the world alive.

  “There are also various guilds and organizations that recruit the more adventurous and risk loving individuals. They recruit and organize slayers into teams capable of closing dungeons. This is a service to humanity, albeit a deadly one. Choose this path at your own risk.

  “If one of you is reborn a creator, I implore you. Please cooperate with the other creators to close Titan. We believe with Titan closed, other dungeons will cease to spawn. It is humanity’s only hope.”

  The old man’s lecture tone disappeared as the presentation ended.

  “I have droned on for long enough. I wish each of you the results you desire, and may we save this planet. If you would kindly line up in the center aisle, we’ll now begin the rebirth ceremony.”

  The old man left the stage to a round of applause as two military personnel wheeled in a small, black, globe-like device, about the size of a basketball. Two golden rods with spheres like alien antennae jutted from the top.

  The crowd froze. Everyone except Brad, who leapt from his seat and ran to the front of the auditorium. Of course, he’d want to be first in line. Tad’s stomach churned. His biggest tormentor was about to be reborn. About to receive a potential power up.

  Civilian. Civilian. Civilian! Tad implored with the universe. He wanted to see the look on Brad’s face when he was just like everyone else.

  “Brad Colville,” Brad announced confidently, his chest puffed out.

  The woman at the device said a few inaudible words to him as he stood behind the globe, facing the crowd. Brad hesitated only for a moment before he rested each of his hands on the strange golden spheres. The pitch-black color of the globe shifted violently as it transformed from the deepest blue to the richest green until it settled on a shining white-gold light that filled the entire auditorium with its brilliance. Tad blinked his eyes in horror. He’d seen this happen before, in videos. Every boy and girl dreamed of this moment, for it to happen to them.

  The woman administering the test sprinted off the stage only to return a moment later with the old man who had just given the lecture.

  “Raekast’s fangs! It’s true! Creator rank!”

  The audience sat in stunned silence. Plastered across Brad’s face was the most smug smile Tad had ever seen. Brad’s eyes scanned the crowd. Tad knew Brad was searching for him, but could do nothing but watch. It only took a moment before their eyes locked. Brad’s smirk turned into a sneer as his eyes danced contemptuously. Tad could see the words repeated in his glance.

  ‘I told you. There isn’t a world out there where you’d be better than me.’

  Chapter 2

  A man with a large camera burst into the auditorium. A newsperson from a local station, assigned to the Bureau to interview lesser slayers, like champions, or even a warlord if he was lucky, but not in his wildest dreams did he think he would be the person to capture the birth of a creator. Nothing he’d do in his life would compare to this moment. It was his crowning achievement as a cameraman. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.

  Brad stood in the middle of the stage with his hands still on the golden spheres. His smile focused at the camera as if he greeted the entire world. Which, in fact, he did. Tad’s existence already forgotten. Brad was big time now. The air around Brad quivered as if alive. Rays of light formed and disappeared just as quickly as his body absorbed them. His transformation would continue over an entire week as his body attained perfection. Perfect strength, powers beyond the possible. All within Brad’s grasp. Within the grasp of a petty tyrant.

  Tad’s worst nightmare had come true.

  The cameraman pushed his way through the crowd. “Congratulations!” He shouted over the clamor of the crowd. “Creator rank! Did you know this would happen?”

  Brad ignored the question as he walked off the edge of the stage. He didn’t fall. Instead, he floated to the floor. Gravity no longer had power over him. Brad was now a creator.

  Tad tore his eyes from the brilliant aura surrounding Brad. It grew stronger by the second. The surrounding faces glowed. Some with excitement, others with admiration, but mostly from the reflected golden light Brad emitted. Others, however, reflected Tad’s own feelings. ‘It should have been me.’ ‘It could have been me.’ Some no longer held back the tears. The universe gave their greatest dream to another, right in front of them. Never had there been a rebirth ceremony that found two creator rank slayers in one session. Even the twins in China had been reborn a week apart.

  The world was not fair. Anyone but Brad. Anyone. Brad wouldn’t come back to school anymore. Not now that he had everything. But if he did… Tad wouldn’t stand a chance. Brad could murder him and nobody could touch him. Laws no longer applied to Brad. No one could enforce them. Nobody was a match for a creator. Except another creator.

  Despite the terror of that thought, Tad found himself calm
. Amid chaos, the world fell still. Silent. His eyes were drawn to the orb on the stage. The rebirth globe had reverted to its original ink-black state. It swirled into deeper darkness as Tad stared. It was mesmerizing. Beckoning. Before he knew what he was doing, he walked down the aisle toward the globe.

  Brad and his fast forming posse exited the auditorium. Everyone still seated, likely stunned at what just transpired. Everyone but Tad who approached the orb. As he was just about to reach it, a tall teen girl with a long blonde ponytail halfway down her back cut into the line in front of him. A wave of annoyance shattered his trance. A fruity vanilla fragrance followed the girl. Tad’s annoyance disappeared as he became aware of all the eyes on him, and just like that, his determination dwindled.

  The lady in charge’s mouth hung open like a fish. It wasn’t every day that a god-like existence was born in front of you. Finally, her eyes snapped to the girl in front of her.

  “Name?”

  “Liz, I mean Alizandra Denth.”

  The woman brought the blonde onto the stage, next to the rebirth globe. Tad’s heart skipped a beat as the girl faced the crowd to place her hands on the golden spheres. She was strikingly beautiful with piercing blue eyes. Tad inhaled the lingering fragrance once more. She smelled nice.

  The swirling black orb flashed once again. Colors, brilliant shades of yellow, blue, and green shone from the orb before it settled on a vibrant blue. A white number, 770, formed on the front of the blue orb. The girl was a warrior rank slayer. Stronger than a soldier, but not as strong as a champion. A number hadn’t appeared with Brad. Just a color. Gold. White. Perfection.

  A relieved smile blossomed on her face as everyone clapped. Two excellent results in a row. It wasn’t unheard of, but the odds were low. There wouldn’t be a third. Tad looked away from the girl’s dazzling smile. He wasn’t superstitious, but it felt like the girl had stolen his rebirth. She’d cut him in line. Ninety-nine percent of people were reborn civilians. What were the odds of two powerful rebirths in a row? Three was worse.

  Tad turned back toward his seat. He could wait until a few civilians were reborn before trying his luck. His mouth went dry. A finger tapped him on the shoulder. Tad turned and met the eyes of the woman in charge of the rebirth ceremony. It was his turn.

  Tad found himself positioned in front of the device. All eyes were on him, but he couldn’t see their faces. All he could see was the golden orbs of the rebirth globe. They glistened in a way he hadn’t expected. The twinkle almost seemed to mock his lack of courage. Tad found his eyes drawn to the swirling black orb.

  “Name?”

  “Tad Harrington.”

  Tad closed his eyes as he thrust his hands forward. Even with his eyes closed he knew exactly where the golden orbs were. He could feel them. See them, even through closed eyelids. The smooth-looking orbs were rough and warm. Not warm. Hot! They felt like they were on fire! He tried to remove his hands, but the palms of his hands melted to the orb. Had the other two rebirths been this painful? If so, they hadn’t shown it. Tad strained to hide his discomfort.

  Please. Please. Please. Just enough strength to protect himself. He was tired of being hurt. He wasn’t sure he could handle being reborn a civilian like his mom. Colors flashed before his closed eyes until they disappeared completely. Gasps and shocked noises came from the crowd. Tad’s heart soared. The audience only gasped for favorable results!

  In a thousand lifetimes, Tad wouldn’t have been ready for the image he saw as his eyes shot open. He blinked, trying to make sense of it. Written on the perfectly black orb was a giant white zero. Tad stood paralyzed, his hands still rested on the golden orbs. The pain gone. Zero. He blinked again, his eyes full of tears as he desperately searched for a number preceding the zero that he must’ve missed. But there was nothing.

  Zero. Nothing. Brad had been right. On all counts. Tad would never be stronger than him.

  Tad was worthless.

  He met the eyes of the crowd. Everyone seemed to hold their breath. Some averted their gaze, other eyes were wet and full of pity. But relief was what showed on most of the faces. Relief it hadn’t been them. Finally, Tad’s eyes settled on his mother in the crowd. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she quietly mouthed the words ‘I love you.’

  Tad walked off the stage, up the aisle and out the auditorium door without a word. His mom followed.

  “Tad, it doesn’t matter.”

  “I know. Sorry if I let you down…”

  His mom pulled him to a stop just outside the auditorium doors and wrapped her arms around him. Her body shook, and he wasn’t sure if she was comforting him, or the other way around.

  “Tad you could never let me down. Never. I’m proud of you for going up there. You’re stronger than you know.”

  His power score was zero… At least it wasn’t negative. Tad erupted with laughter, as tears streamed down his cheeks at the absurdity of the thought.

  * * *

  The drive home was quiet, although the sky was much brighter. The skyscrubber Hyde must’ve flown by while they were inside the building. That or Brad had done it. That Brad might be strong enough to be a skyscrubber felt like another punch to the gut. It would be a daily reminder.

  Brad was already all over the news. Even music stations stopped playing music to discuss the ramifications of their new creator rank slayer. America’s only creator, the first since the defector. The nation’s shining hope. Even other truckers on the CB radio were excitedly chattering about the news. Mankind’s last hope, everyone called him. If Brad was our last hope, maybe we all deserved to die. Tad grimaced at the thought.

  Finally, the awkward drive ended. Tad got down from his seat and opened the door for his mom. She stepped down from the semi-truck and gave him another hug.

  “It will be okay.” His mom’s voice choked with emotion.

  “I know Mom.”

  “Give it some time. You’ll find your place in this world. I promise. And if not. Your place can always be here.”

  Tad climbed the stairs to return to his room. His prison. His safe space. He felt sick. He went to his favorite online forum. Brad’s beaming smile met him everywhere he looked. Questions, interviews, and more. The entire internet exploded with activity. After scrolling through various news articles, Tad came across a video clip of two news hosts laughing about something.

  “So not only did we find the twelfth creator rank ever, but we also found the world’s first zero!”

  Their laughter was so hard, they wiped tears from their eyes. Tad grimaced, but opened the comment section to see how bad it was.

  “Finally, someone whose ass even I can kick! Sincerely civilians everywhere.”

  “Rank Zero… Actually, that sounds kind of cool.”

  “Captain Zero! No, wait, null-and-void boy!”

  “Brad must have absorbed that poor kid’s powers… How is zero power even possible?”

  “I think it’s cool. I mean, we have had twelve creator rank slayers, but this kid is the FIRST zero! The kid is one of a kind lol.”

  Tad closed the browser. His cheeks burned. He hadn’t thought his score would have mattered next to a new creator being discovered. He realized in that moment he would forever be a meme. He could already see it. Any time anything bad happened to someone, people would say, ‘At least your power score isn’t zero.’

  Why couldn’t Tad have been the creator? Why did it have to be Brad of all people? Why not that pretty blonde girl? She would’ve made a great creator. She wouldn’t have hunted down Tad for no reason. He only wanted power to protect himself, to not get hurt anymore. But now, his biggest oppressor was one of the five strongest people in the world. The thought was chilling. Even though he was sure that Brad had already forgotten all about him.

  Why was power the only thing that mattered in the world? Strength? No one cared that Brad was a petty bully. A tyrant. It was wrong. Once Brad was reborn as a creator, everyone worshiped him. They didn’t care about what despicable things h
e’d done in his past. Instead, they looked at what he was capable of, what he would do for them. Brad was instantly virtuous because he was strong.

  Tad fell on his bed and stared at the ceiling. What was the point of going on? His life was over. He was a zero. A nothing. And his enemy had everything. Tears welled in his eyes for the third time that night. He wasn’t even strong enough to stop the tears.

  White letters appeared in front of Tad’s eyes. One at a time. Slowly. Alarm filled his chest at the sight. He rubbed his eyes, but he could see the letters even with his eyes closed. After an eternity, the words formed a sentence.

  *What would you give for power?*

  “Everything.”

  Tad had never spoken truer words. He would give anything for the power to defend himself.

  The darkness of Tad’s room seemed to deepen, thicken. A moment of pause. The text started once more.

  *Answer accepted. Model, Eveian. Level-up program installation will commence in 3, 2, 1.*

  Nothing could have prepared Tad for the pain. All-consuming agony exploded like fire inside Tad’s brain. He tried to scream, but he found he couldn’t control his body. His vision darkened further until light disappeared completely. Sound didn’t exist. Only pain. The torture spread. Where it had only seared through his brain, it deliberately extended down his spine, then out to each of his limbs. Each nerve shrieked.

  After the nerves, the fire infected his muscles. Simultaneously, every muscle in his body contracted as the inferno infiltrated the tissue. Tad’s entire body seized; his muscles locked. Tad’s paralyzed heart was a brick in his chest as it stopped pumping. The fire burned even more painfully than the muscle cramps. The burning extended forever. Lasted eternities.

  His senses were last. His eyes, ears, nose, tongue, and skin incinerated. Hotter than the sun, his senses exploded into all-consuming, white-hot pain.

 

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