Heroes of Darkness: A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG Omnibus Collection

by Wolfe Locke

  “And if I refuse?” asked Seraph coyly.

  “Little brother, if you refuse to comply with silence, I’ll be forced to call my minions forth and rend both your soul and body into a nothingness, casting that into the abyss. But if you refuse my offer, you’re allowed to leave and roam freely. Unlike the humans, we do not kill our own without cause.”

  Seraph nodded; the explanation had implications that he needed to sort out for himself later, whenever he had the time to do so.

  “What does your blessing do?” Seraph asked genuinely as he considered his options.

  The demon prince leaned back, a huge grin on its face as it realized it had him, and now they were just hashing out the details.

  “My blessing is not as complicated as that of my brothers, whom I assure you, are not quite as straightforward as I am,” remarked the demon prince. “My blessing will allow you to change others who follow you into various lesser demons. Cosmetic changes mostly, I assure you of this as well. In return, they gain a bit of power from the change, but you gain far more as every person you mark in this way gives you a portion of their power, and you, by extension, give me a portion of that power. Just like that, everyone wins. It’s multi-tier marketing.”

  “Do I need to choose today?” asked Seraph, not yet willing to commit. He knew this would likely backfire, and he needed some time to try and figure out a plan B if it did, or even work out if the situation back in Hometown would require him to accept the deal to survive.

  “No. You don’t. You’ll find, Seraph, that I can be quite generous,” responded the demon prince. “If you deliver within 30 days the soul I have asked for, I’ll consider the offer accepted, and until then, you may have access to the powers I have granted you—though should you use them, I will consider it as binding and will expect payment.”

  Notification: Quest Unlocked - To Serve a Prince

  Temporary Ability Granted - Demonize - Minion and Ally Racial Change to “Fel”

  Temporary Ability Granted - Summon Avatar of Beelzebub - Summon a *level avatar of Beelzebub where * equals your current level.

  Confirmation Conditions: Deliver (1) soul to the Demon Prince Beelzebub on a monthly basis.

  Alternative Confirmation Conditions: Usage of abilities granted by the Demon Prince.

  Reward: Permanent access to abilities. Increased Reputation with *Demonic Factions*

  Fail Conditions: Use an ability granted by the demon prince and forfeit soul debt.

  “Now, Seraph, since you defeated me in the little game that we played, the gate to the 3rd floor of the dungeon is unlocked for you. I suggest you try to get stronger first before attempting it. My brother, Beliel, is not as kind as I am,” the demon prince warned. “Until then, return to Hometown.”

  Notification: Arrival - Hometown - Central Plaza

  - You have arrived in “Hometown”, the city of the elves.

  Without warning, Seraph began to disappear, and as a twisting nausea settled deep into the pit of his stomach, Seraph knew he had just teleported. As he looked around the area he had arrived at, he recognized the central plaza, and more so he could see the Inn of the Withered Fig. Even though it was daylight still, he stumbled in that direction, badly needing rest, to check on his teammates, and clear his head.

  Chapter 22: Recovery

  * * *

  It wasn’t until he walked through the doors of the Inn of the Withered Fig that Seraph realized just how exhausted he felt. It was an exhaustion that settled down deep into his muscles and farther still into his bones.

  No matter Seraph's current stats, he could not shake the feeling of malaise. Simply too much had happened in too short an amount of time, and he needed to rest. Otherwise, his current pace would be unsustainable, and he would falter, and if he faltered, failure was likely. To Seraph, that possibility was simply unacceptable.

  When Seraph opened the door and stepped inside, he had expected to be met by a busy tavern, actively serving drinks as a hot fire roared and a barkeep stood ready with a bit of food and ale. Seraph's expectations were not met.

  Instead, he found himself in a linoleum-floored foyer. A bored-looking elf maintained a post at the blue painted check-in counter, an expression of daydreaming on his face as he gazed into the distance with a blank look, oblivious to his surroundings.

  Beyond the foyer, through the archways past the check-in counter, Seraph could see that it opened up into a small dining area of mixed chairs and tables for the food which was made available. There appeared to be a small kitchenette with a buffet-style serving area in a small outcropping in the room.

  Seeing the food made his stomach grumble and growl—an oddity Seraph had always thought because one did not technically need to eat while in the dungeon as the dungeon provided all the nourishment and energy that they all required. Still, though, the body still yearned for food, and his was ravenous.

  Seraph was ready to move on, more than satisfied with the offerings. He approached the check-in counter to get a room, and when the elf did not respond to his presence, Seraph looked and saw the elf's name tag which read ‘David’.

  "Hey, David" Seraph emphasized, interrupting the elf from his daydreams. "I'd like to get a room for the night."

  The sudden noise startled the elf, and, in his embarrassment, he tried to smooth out the wrinkles in his uniform to compose himself and to present a more professional appearance.

  "Sure, sure. Yeah, not a problem. Any specifics that you are looking for? King, queen, twins? Hot Tub or jacuzzi? Massage package?" Seraph was impressed with the elf's recovery and attempt to go ahead and start with the up-sell.

  Seraph had never minded an up-sell, and any up-sell that improved his recovery was a tool he needed to take advantage of. "Queen bed if you have it. I'll need a room with a soak tub, a rainwater showerhead, and a massage two hours from now."

  In a blur of motion, David reached and pulled up a ledger, setting it down in front of him on the counter. He began to scan through the pages looking to see if anything matched the service and room requests.

  "Ah, here we go. All right," David muttered as he slammed the ledger closed. "It looks like we have a few rooms that match what you're looking for. One is on the ground floor, and two are on the 3rd floor."

  Seraph considered for a moment. "I guess it depends. Does this facility have a gym or a training hall?"

  "We've got a full workout gym on the 2nd floor, complete with training dummies and a respawning sparring arena," David responded with pride.

  "Being on the 2nd floor, that doesn't really help me much for ease of access. So, I’ll just go with the ground floor. That will be fine by me," responded Seraph, eager to be done.

  "All right, sir, that will be 275 Sol a night. What's the name the room is to be registered under?" asked David to finish things up.

  "The name is Seraph," he replied.

  The elf’s eyes darkened at the name, recognition evident on his face.

  "I'm sorry, sir. It seems we are approaching near capacity. I quoted the room wrong to you. It's actually 575 Sol a night." David's distaste for Seraph was clear.

  Seraph knew exactly what was going on. Though he wanted to protest and bring violence upon the elf, he thought better of it, his better judgment holding out against his worst impulses. The last thing he needed was to get banned from the Inn before he found himself other accommodations. Seraph had no interest in being caught outside come nightfall ever again.

  "Sure, that's fine," agreed Seraph, much to the elf's dismay who had thought he'd managed to successfully goad Seraph into making a scene.

  "I just need one night for now though," Seraph told the elf.

  "OK-K…" the elf stammered as he sent a mental invoice towards Seraph. Seraph scanned the invoice before resigning himself to the fee and accepting yes, the payment immediately being taken from his inventory.

  The elf slid a key over the counter towards Seraph that read in embedded brass ‘119’. With a curt nod, Seraph walked a
way, not heading directly towards his room but to the dining area to grab something to eat to quiet the hunger he felt before retreating to the room to relax.

  As he walked over, various smells assaulted his senses—coffee, orange juice, hot eggs, fresh grits, sausages, and ripened bananas and grapes. He heaped the food onto his plate in a feast of gluttony as he poured himself the largest cup of coffee he could. Serving the drink the way the coffee should be served with cream and sugar.

  It was almost comical in a way. Seraph had needs that needed to be addressed. He was reminded of something that Zoldos used to say, “You don’t win any awards for making things harder on yourself. There was no point in missing out on a few creature comforts when they were available.

  He sat his plate down and dug in, dismissing the mental image of how quickly a spoon could become a shovel in the right hands. He ignored his shame. After all, he was hungry.

  He was so focused on eating and relaxing in the environment that he hadn’t noticed he was no longer alone in the dining area. Sadie leaned against the arch supports on the other side of the dining area that led out into a hallway leading down to the rooms.

  As soon as she saw that he had noticed her, she gave a half-smile and walked over. The armor that she had worn was now replaced by a more professional-looking business suit. She looked every part a leader of Hometown.

  Without asking for permission, she pulled a chair out from the table and sat down opposite him. “Seraph, you reek.”

  He didn’t bother to protest; he knew it was true. Instead of defending himself and offering explanations, Seraph mouthed, “Your point?” as he continued to shove food into his mouth.

  “I don’t think in all the time I’ve known you that I’ve ever before had the misfortune to see you eat anything,” Sadie commented as she turned her nose up in disgust.

  “What’s the issue, Sadie? I assume you’re not here to eat? Yet you are interfering with me feeding myself,” Seraph said between bites.

  Sadie glanced down at the table, avoiding looking at him. “I just want to say thanks for saving me. Knowing you, I’m sure there’s an angle to your benefit, but I thought I should just let you know I appreciate being alive—even after everything you’ve done. So, thanks.”

  Seraph frowned and put his fork down, adopting a more serious tone and demeanor. “Sadie, I won’t apologize for the past—it happened, and I had a large part in all of it, sometimes. At other times the sole part. I do have regrets, I do, how could I not? But even then, regret doesn’t change what happened. I did what I had to do, I did what needed to be done, and I did what I thought was best for my people.

  Sadie shifted before responding. “Actually, that’s what I want to talk to you about. But it’s not a conversation for the public arena. Otherwise, people might overhear us. When you’re finished eating, let’s head over to your room so we can talk some more in private. What I have to say is for your ears alone.”

  “119. Meet me there in about 20 minutes. I need at least that much time, so I can try to get cleaned up and get rid of some of the dungeon smell," responded Seraph, his interests piqued, wondering what was so secret that she needed a private audience.

  "That's fine," she said as she dismissed herself from the table. "Keep this to yourself, though. Don't tell anyone about us meeting."

  Rubbing his temples, Seraph got up, cleaned the table off, and headed off to his room to make the most of his time.

  Chapter 23: Allies

  * * *

  When Seraph finally reached the room marked 119, he felt an immediate sense of relief as he walked into the small but comfortable room. It was appealing though spartan in its decoration. For him, it was perfect. With everything that had happened over the last few days, he needed a break.

  As much as Seraph wanted to fall face first into the bed and sleep for hours, he knew that was impossible, and he refused to let himself focus too much on it. Instead, he steeled himself and headed straight into the bathroom and started the water for the shower. As much as he wanted to jump into the soak tub, he just didn’t have time.

  Piece by piece, he took off the plate gear that had covered his body, and as soon as the piece left contact with his body, it changed forms, reverting into much more manageable cloth pieces that he then tossed into the cleansing unit for quick cleaning.

  Standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror, Seraph looked at himself. The young face staring back at him was still surreal: pale, horns jutting out of his head, lines of glowing blue flowing through his veins because of his body of mana, and other parts of his body always moving, struggling to maintain their shape—a consequence of the malleable nature of his abyssal body. It was his face, but not his face. It was something else altogether.

  “I’m thinking too much about this. It doesn’t really matter if I’m young or old so long as I can fight in whatever form I take.” That was his line of thought, but he couldn’t control the surprising anger he felt looking at his reflection. The face that looked back at him was no longer a child. With the change in his psyche, Seraph’s body had grown, and now he appeared to be in his late teens. His body had filled in with muscle. It was a far cry from the skinny cripple he had reincarnated as only a few days prior.

  Ignoring the myriad of feelings, he stepped into the shower and let the hot water run off his skin. It was hot enough that it would have scalded most people, but not him. It was calming and quieted his mind. The serenity of the moment granted him an uncommon clarity that allowed his mind to wander as he contemplated both the problems he was trying to manage, and the situation he was in.

  Bracing his head and hands against the wall, he let the water fall off his back as he mentally reviewed his problems.

  The next set of people would be arriving the next day, and the World Dungeon would be going live sometime within the same time period.

  The living situation in Hometown was going to get crowded quickly, and it would become untenable soon. Far sooner than in his past life.

  Most of the elves seemed to have memories of him—whether full or partial, Seraph didn’t know—but he was positive most considered him an enemy.

  His old guildmates would be arriving soon to the dungeon. Some but not all were truly evil, and they would stand in the way of his goal to ensure the survival of humanity.

  The Dungeon Seed… Was there somehow a way for him to still gain access? Seraph had not forgotten his promise to the monster that had once been his comrade, Reverend.

  The World Dungeon had changed, becoming more hostile and dangerous, though he couldn’t rule out that his perception of danger had changed due to his weakened state, altering his belief in the changes.

  The offer of the demon prince. He was as much in favor of it as he was against it. The demon prince, in the grand scheme of things, was a much smaller player then the absolute destruction that would occur should Seraph fail. He could defeat a demon if needed. Seraph knew what his answer would be.

  He turned off the water, the bathroom heavy with steam, and stepped out of the shower. Few answers came to him, but at least he was able to organize his thoughts. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off. He then reached into the cleanser and removed his newly cleaned gear, fresh and no longer marred by waste and the grime of the road.

  “One other thing I need to think on. I’m still owed a higher tier cosmetic for the tutorial.” Monsters, demons, demihumans… an assortment of images ran through his mind, but as he thought of his reaction to his own image, Seraph went ahead and dismissed becoming even more of a monster than he already was. A solution to one of his problems presented itself, and with a higher tier cosmetic promised, Seraph might be able to get an exception to policy. He would become one of the elves.

  A few minutes later, Seraph emerged from the bathroom clean, refreshed, and still tired. He was, though, feeling far less haggard then he had been feeling, good enough to meet with Sadie and hear what she needed to say.

  On cue and always punctual, Seraph hear
d a knock on his door, opening it to see Sadie on the other side, once again clad in her green armor, her glowing sword on her hip.

  “Come in; let's get this over with,” Seraph said as he motioned for her to sit down in one of the two chairs in the room as he sat down in the other.

  She turned around and locked the door behind her, then used an ability that covered the door with a thick translucent shield. “This is so our conversation remains private. I’m sure you remember that a locked door alone isn’t enough to ensure privacy.”

  Seraph grunted, not wanting to admit that she was correct, or that he had forgotten that fact. “Let’s just get down to it, Sadie. What brings you here? A few days ago your hate and animosity towards me was something you could hardly control, and now you’re suddenly cordial? Spare me. What do you want?”

  With a look that was meant to turn his blood cold, Sadie glared at him. “We are not friends, Seraph, and we are not comrades. You have always been the villain in my story. You murdered my race, and you plundered my city. Even as vassals of the dungeon, we are not immortal. Many of those killed by your hand still haunt the streets at night, while here you are, alive, well, and pampered, as your victims remain in a state of damnation that even my master cannot cure.”

  “I made my point already, Sadie. I told you, I will not apologize for past events,” remarked Seraph as the tension in the room began to rise.

  Sadie suddenly stood up, the force flinging her chair over as she screamed at him. “I’m not asking for an apology! I’m asking to be allies! I can’t have a repeat of what happened, happen again. You humans are all the same; it doesn’t matter if it’s you or someone else. Conflict between our people is inevitable. I’ve resigned from my post and renounced the protection of the dungeon. I have been allowed to live again as a mortal; I have become a player again.”