This Quest is Broken! (This Trilogy is Broken (A Comedy Litrpg Adventure) Book 1)

by J. P. Valentine

  Eve turned to find the warrior held five identical spheres in her upturned hand. Each was no more than an inch and a half in diameter, made of sheer stone with a piece of circular crystal on either side. The dark glass appeared as if meant to be a window into the stone’s interior, but as Eve stared into it she saw nothing. Her Appraise delivered better results.

  Minor Burendian Mana Core

  Rarity: Rare

  Alex grinned. “Now these are worth something.” She slipped them into her pack. “Any enchanter or craftsman worth their salt has a use for ‘em.”

  “Finally,” Eve said, “some actual loot.” With a smile of her own she returned to scanning the countertop, passing over all manner of impressive craftsmanship until one particular piece caught her eye.

  Instead of a long-decayed cork, a glass stopper rested atop the round-bottom flask, keeping its contents liquid despite the ravages of time. The serum within was roughly Mana-potion blue, but a number of ethereal silver strands streaked through it. They glimmered as she picked the container up.

  “I’ve got something too,” she called Alex over. “A potion of some sort.”

  Eve swirled the liquid around, watching as it lit up with tiny lightning bolts with each spin around the flask.

  Alex stared. “It’s beautiful.”

  Eve nodded. Whatever this was, it was clearly magical in nature. She Appraised it to limited success.

  Volatile Compound

  Rarity: Legendary

  “Shit,” she swore. “It’s bloody rare.” A thought struck her as she swung the bottle yet faster to analyze the brilliant lights. “You wouldn’t happen to know what ‘volatile’ means, woul—”

  The flask exploded.

  Shards of shattered glass fell to the floor as the strange liquid sprayed out in all directions. Alex threw up a hand, her exposed palm taking the brunt of the spill. Eve wasn’t so lucky.

  Most of the deep blue serum struck her directly in the chest. It seemed to pass directly through her dirt-stained blouse, leaving the garment dry as it hit the skin below.

  Eve burned.

  Her heart, her lungs, her very soul erupted in an icy inferno. The agony was unrelenting. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped.

  Alex cried out enough for the both of them.

  Eve fell to her knees, clutching her hands to her chest. She tried to breathe but the air refused to come. Panic mounted. The blaze spread, coursing through her veins with ice and fire and lightning and pain. Such pain.

  She hit the ground hard, barely noticing the impact against the cold stone. She had other worries.

  Dark spots appeared in her eyes, slowly spreading across her vision as the maelstrom did through her body. A second passed. Another.

  Before Eve could even think to regret her decision to ever come to this gods-forsaken ruin, the world went black.

  * * *

  Preston hung close to Wes’s side as the two crept down the ancient hallway. Though the ghostly pulses of white light across the cracks in the floor rendered his Burning Hand unnecessary, the fire mage still kept a spell at the ready.

  The gesture was more of a comfort than a strategy. He knew he could throw a dart just as quickly from his side, but the thought of having a hand poised to strike gave him some confidence. Not much, but some. He could only hope whatever monster they found wasn’t immune to his flames.

  Wes shuddered. The golem encounter ran through his mind over and over again, reviving the sense of helplessness he’d felt as his spells washed harmlessly against the enchanted marble. That’s the trouble with fire magic, he reasoned. It can be unstoppably powerful or completely useless. Some things just didn’t burn.

  The two adventurers stopped at each decrepit bedroom they passed, diligently checking each for monsters or loot. They found neither.

  By the fourth bedchamber they searched, Wes decided he’d had enough of getting nothing from the deserted quarters. He set his hand alight. “I’m going to burn the bed frame.”

  Preston’s eyes shot open. “What? Why?”

  “My passive,” the mage explained. “I can use a natural fire to regain Mana.” He kicked the rotted wood. “It’s not like this stuff’s good for anything else.”

  “And the smoke? I don’t see any chimneys.”

  Wes shrugged. “It’ll mostly stay in this room. By the time it’s a problem we’ll be long gone anyway.” He bent over to pick up the fallen door. “Here, we can even close the door.”

  “Alright,” the healer said, stepping back into the empty hall, “but I’m waiting outside.”

  Wes nodded, leaning the decaying door against its former frame. With a quiet breath, he placed his Burning Hand onto the ancient bed.

  The dead wood came alight in seconds, the blaze quickly spreading to consume it entirely. Wes smiled. A familiar warmth coursed through him as the fire burned. His Mana pool ticked up as he bathed in the beauty and comfort of the inferno. It felt good. It was his.

  We hunger.

  “Gods damnit,” Wes cursed to himself. “These bloody infernal whispers.”

  Feed us so we may be strong.

  Wes tried to shut the voice out, resolving for the hundredth time to replace the passive ability that generated them as soon as he could. He stepped away from the burning wood, dimming but not silencing it.

  Burn.

  Wes’s gaze turned to the chest of drawers, the only other piece of furniture in the room. He shook his head. “I don’t take orders from a fucking bonfire,” he muttered. “Great. Now I’m muttering to myself like a madman.” He supposed madmen heard voices too.

  He stayed alone in that room until the blaze finally burned itself out, keeping low to avoid the smoke that coalesced along the roof. He uttered a quiet thanks that the whispers were gone for now as he rejoined Preston in the ancient hallway to continue their delve.

  At least now he had a full Mana pool.

  * * *

  Eve blinked the darkness from her eyes as she came to beneath Alex’s watchful gaze. Her chest still ached with a shadow of the frigid hellfire that had ravaged it, but the pain was manageable. She breathed.

  “Gods damnit,” Eve swore as she rubbed her neck. “I’ve gotta stop blacking out. That’s twice in one day.”

  “Both times for exploding something you shouldn’t have exploded.” Alex clutched her right hand to her chest, her left covering it from Eve’s view.

  Eve ignored the comment. “Are you alright? Hells, am I alright?”

  “We’re alive,” the warrior replied. “You were only out for a few minutes. Whatever that stuff was, it seems to have passed pretty quickly.”

  “Mostly passed. I still feel it.”

  “Me too,” Alex said. “But nothing like before.”

  “Right.” Eve pushed herself to her feet. “How’s your hand?”

  “See for yourself.”

  Alex withdrew her uninjured hand to reveal the damaged one beneath. Jagged lines of ivory lightning raced across her skin, glowing with the same ghostly light that filled the room. They stretched all the way down her wrist before disappearing beneath her vambrace. “Your neck looks the same.”

  Eve’s eyebrows shot up as she spent a second futilely attempting to get a glimpse of her own neck. Realizing her stupidity, she turned around to peek down her blouse. “Shit,” she swore. Sure enough, the same jagged web covered her skin, far denser than that on Alex. The lines seemed to pulse with her heart, as if every beat pumped Mana through her just as it did blood.

  “Shit is right. My hand still works, but the lines aren’t getting any dimmer and the burning feeling is still there.”

  Eve nodded. “Same here. What happens if they never go away?”

  “That’s what worries me,” Alex said. “I’m sure there’s a researcher in Lynthia that can help us, but we have to live that long first. The quest doesn’t make me feel any better.”

  Eve froze, just noticing the flashing notification in the corner of her vision. �
��The what?”

  “Just read it.”

  She didn’t have to tell Eve twice.

  The Striker’s vision went blue as she scanned the new message. She let out a curse as its contents sank in. “Gods below. Is this a good or a bad thing?”

  “I don’t know, Eve,” Alex said. “I don’t know.”

  Her eyes wide and her heart racing, Eve looked through the message once more.

  Secondary Quest assigned: Legacy of the Precursors

  Stage One: Discover the serum’s effects.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Leyline

  EVELIA GREENE

  Human

  Level 26 Shatterfate Striker

  Exp: 914/1086

  Health: 211/240

  Stamina: 525/1050

  Mana: 483/0

  Constitution: 24

  Endurance: 105

  Intelligence: 12

  Dexterity: 25

  Strength: 36

  Spirit: 0

  “Ayla’s tits.”

  Alex perked up. “What’s wrong?”

  Eve met her gaze with azure-lit eyes. “Check your Mana pool.”

  “Ayla’s tits,” Alex echoed. “I’ve got a hundred Mana.”

  “Shit. I’ve got almost five times that.”

  “It makes sense,” the warrior said. “You got hit with more of that serum.”

  Eve swallowed. “So… what does this mean?”

  Alex shrugged. “I’m no caster, but even I know bad things happen when you overload on Mana.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Alex stood, gripping her spear in defiance. “We finish this gods-damned dungeon as fast as we can and hope there’s a way out on the other side. We can find help in Lynthia, but we have to live that long first.”

  Eve nodded, stooping over to reclaim Alex’s knife from where she’d dropped it. She took a moment to thank the gods she hadn’t fallen on it when she’d passed out.

  The two women left the alchemy lab together. As they walked, Eve watched the web of jagged lines on Alex’s hand. They looked alien. Wrong. Eve cringed as her thoughts turned to her own set of lightning bolts running up her neck and torso. She could almost imagine the foreign magic tearing her apart as it coursed through her veins. Her stomach churned.

  The adventurers fell into a pattern of efficiently checking each room for monsters and loot before moving on to the next one. An hour in, the single bedrooms began to give way first to bunk rooms crowded with the collapsed remains of triple-layered servants’ cots and then to all manner of rooms absent any furniture altogether.

  Eve wondered if these empty chambers had somehow been cleared out, or if the Burendians had died out before they’d ever seen use. The thought sent a chill down her spine.

  Why stack up cots three-high just to have a bunch of empty rooms? Had whatever wiped out the ancient race given warning? Perhaps the insects had managed to devour these pieces of furniture before whatever monster lurked ahead had devoured them in turn. Eve sighed. It was no use speculating.

  Her mind had returned to worrying about the pulsing sensation of heat at her chest by the time they found the kitchen.

  Stone countertops lined the massive chamber, split into individual workspaces. Each came equipped with its own hooded chimney directly above what appeared to Eve as just more counter. “Did they set fires right on the stone?”

  Alex shook her head. “It’s enchanted. Like everything else here. Probably set the pan right onto the stone and dumped Mana into it.”

  Eve sighed. “Please tell me this isn’t what the guild is interested in. I swear if they’re paying five hundred silver for bloody cooking enchantments…”

  The Survivor laughed. “Could be. Or they could be after how to make a golem. Or the thousand other wild things down here.”

  “Fair point.”

  “Come on.” Alex swung open the door back into the hallway. “Better keep moving.”

  Eve lingered in the ancient kitchen for a second, lost in thoughts of the ancient race doing something as mundane as cooking. The heat in her chest grew warmer. With a quiet gulp, she scurried after the towering warrior. They had no time to waste on idle imaginings.

  The pair continued on to investigate dining rooms and meeting spaces and even a gods-damned garden. At least, Eve assumed the square patches of barren soil had been a garden before whatever remaining denizens of the ruin had devoured all the plants. Not a one of the dozen various chambers produced anything of interest.

  By the end of their second hour of exploring, Eve stopped to ask a question. “How’s your hand?”

  “It’s fine?” Alex answered hesitantly. “It feels warm, but it’s not burning or anything.”

  “I think my chest is getting hotter.”

  Alex’s face fell. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “None of this is a good sign.”

  “Like I said, we’ll just have to—” Alex froze, her voice suddenly dropping to barely a whisper. “Do you hear that?”

  Eve strained her ears.

  A gentle scraping echoed down the cavern ahead. If Eve squinted, she could barely make out a long thin shadow jerking back and forth in the distance, but the ethereal light of the enchantments blurred the visage.

  Tightening her grip on Alex’s knife, Eve gave the warrior a nod. They crept down the passage together.

  Eve’s heart raced with every careful step. The scratching sound grew louder, more frantic. Could whatever it was sense them? She held out her knife, ready to Charge! should the thing come barreling down the hall at them. It never did. By the time she grew close enough to Appraise it, she knew why.

  Level ?? Leygorged Widow

  “Holy shit,” Eve swore as they stopped just short of the twitching spider leg. “It’s stuck in there.”

  The massive beast pressed against the tunnel opening, desperately swiping a barbed leg at the two adventurers. With every miss it scraped against the floor, leaving a deep scratch in the enchanted stone.

  “Gods below,” Alex mouthed. “I knew Mana could make things bigger after the hares, but Ayla’s tits. That’s gotta be at least twenty feet tall.”

  “Poor thing grew too big to fit into the tunnels.”

  Alex snorted. “That ‘poor thing’ probably ate every other living creature in this place.” She raised her spear. “So, what’s the plan?”

  Eve shook her head. “Where’s Wes when we need him? This would be perfect for him to just sit back and throw darts at.”

  Alex cocked an eyebrow. “Are you saying we should wait?”

  “We might as well. Whatever that chamber is, it’s large. I’d bet the other tunnel meets up with it eventually.”

  “Alright,” Alex agreed. “We’ll give them a bit of time to catch up in case they explored slower than we did. But if your chest or my hand starts to get worse, I say we go for it. I’d rather die fighting a giant spider than because I was too scared to try.”

  “Okay.” A pulse of warmth echoed across Eve’s torso. “Let’s hope they didn’t get into as much trouble as we did.”

  * * *

  Wes had just about had it with rotting bedrooms. Eighteen and counting was more than enough decayed bed frames and collapsed dressers to carefully search through.

  Preston agreed. “I bet the others have found all sorts of valuable loot while we’re stuck on bedroom duty.”

  “Knowing Eve, she’s stumbled her way into clearing half the dungeon already.”

  The healer laughed. “And/or she’s fallen on her face.”

  “I’d wager both.” Wes smiled. At least he was stuck with someone worth talking to instead of that dreadfully boring warrior. I swear to Bandir, if I have to hear one more comment about bloody ‘professionalism’ I’m gonna snap.

  “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The conversation fell silent as Wes swung open another rotted door to find a staircase in lieu of the umpteenth bedroom. In addition to along the floor, the lines of illumination stretche
d across the outer wall of the spiral steps as they descended into the earth below.

  The pulsing white aura gave the stairway a sense of magnificence, as if it led directly to the heavens themselves. Wes stepped in.

  “Is this a good idea?” Preston asked. “I’m pretty sure the way out isn’t down there.”

  “We’re here to clear the dungeon,” Wes answered over his shoulder. “And this is part of it. I mean look at this thing. It’s gotta be important.”

  The blond priest nodded, gathering his wits before following Wes down the brilliantly lit steps.

  On and on they descended, delving ever deeper into the unknown. By the time he lost count of the number of steps, Wes began to lend credence to his theory they’d find one of the heavens at their base.

  Instead they found a door.

  Unlike the decaying wood of those above, this was made of solid stone. A sharp web of ghostly white pulsed across it. Preston reached for the handle.

  “Ow!” He jerked his hand away, his fingers already blistering. “It’s bloody hot!” The room flashed gold as he healed himself.

  “Let me,” Wes said. The iron loop felt warm in his grasp, but left his skin uncharred. “Fire mage, remember?” With a cocky smirk, he swung the door open.

  The world went white.

  “Ayla’s tits!” Preston swore. “That’s fucking bright!”

  Wes shielded his eyes with a hand as he stepped into the room.

  The chamber itself was rather barren. Aside from the number of iron tools which hung from hooks on the far wall, its only feature was a steel hatch embedded in the floor at its very center. Wes couldn’t look directly at it.

  Blinding colorless light blasted the room from a thin crack along the trapdoor’s center. Wes approached.

  “We should leave,” Preston called after him. “Whatever that is, the worst thing to do would be to get close to it.”

  “It’s Mana,” Wes said. “Unless I miss my guess, getting close is exactly what we need to do. How do you think this place naturalized?”