Heroes of Darkness: A Dark Dungeon Realm LitRPG Omnibus Collection

by Wolfe Locke

  The news shocked Seraph. He didn’t know how to respond.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” she responded when he said nothing. “It is a crazy thing to do, but my people need to survive, and for that, I need you to be successful. As you showed me the other night when you saved my life, even you can change. I can still hate you and work with you if it means preventing war between humanity and the elves.

  Nodding his head in agreement, Seraph spoke up. “I’ve had something of a similar thought. We need some way to bridge the gap between our two species so we can lean on each other for survival, and I think I’ve got a way. Are you willing to join my team and bind yourself as an ally?” he asked with all seriousness.

  She nodded and held out her hand to confirm. In hindsight, Seraph realized this had probably been her goal the entire time as he took her hand in his and shook it. He activated his ability, the effect of which caused her to fall unconscious on the ground.

  Notification: You have used Demonize on the Elf Woman “Sadie Harmontree”.

  Racial Change: With the use of the ability “Sadie Harmontree” has become a “Fel Elf”.

  “Dungeon!” Seraph cried out. “I wish to use that which is owed to me. Grant me elven traits—I don’t care which ones.”

  Notification: You have been granted a new racial cosmetic.

  Effect: Gained “Slender Hands”

  Secondary Effect: Increases damage output of spells and abilities by 25%

  Racial Change: You have become an Abyssal Elf

  Chapter 24: Compromise

  * * *

  A little snow dropped on the tip of his wings, his breath showing from the cold as Seraph walked out among the tombstones. One grave and then the next, he stopped in front of each in solemn remembrance. These had been his friends, these had been his allies, and these had been his guild mates.

  In every direction the graves continued, the thousands of people who had entrusted him with their lives lay beneath the hallowed soil. Some more recent than others, some decades old, and Seraph knew the name on every grave. No unknown soldier was buried in this graveyard. It was his memorial to them, and he would carry their memory with him to the grave. He owed them that much.

  “Seraph, you always look so grim.” It was a memory of Elle’s voice, and he turned around hoping to see her. But like the wind ghosting through his hair, she was gone.

  “Think about what? Your missing brother?” Was something John would say as he pushed Seraph to do better. He was one of the few who had the courage and dared to approach Seraph to let him know when he was wrong, or if something was off.

  “Honest work to be done.” Ken would laugh as he fought alongside him—like Seraph, he had heavily enjoyed the fighting, and the killing had never bothered him.

  “I miss you all. I don’t know how to keep you all alive,” Seraph told the wind, but if the wind heard, nobody answered.

  A bony hand grabbed at Seraph's ankle, a vice-like grip digging into his skin. Pulling away, Seraph managed to break the bone with the force of his movement, but the gripping hand remained. The bony fingers drew blood as Seraph reached down and tore it off with his hand, tossing it away.

  From all around him, the gravestones began to move and rattle. The ground gave way as rotting bodies pushed to the surface, eyes dark with hate and animated with green eldritch energy.

  More hands clutched at his ankles, then his legs. Despite his vast strength, he couldn't shake himself loose. Fear crawled up his spine as he spread his wings to fly away to safety as the undead converged on him, but no matter how much he struggled, he could not shake free, and he watched in horror as the ravenous dead descended on him.

  ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

  The sheets were drenched with sweat, as Seraph woke up and knew he had been dreaming, though it was more than a dream he was positive. Whether his ghosts were stirring, or his memories trying to tell him something, Seraph wasn’t sure.

  His thoughts turned to the past: him, Elle, Ken, John, Zoldos, Reverend, and all the others that had helped him to set up the guild—back when humanity was still young and struggling in the dungeon. Friends that he had not seen since that fateful day when he had sent them to their deaths to explore and try and map out the deepest floor of the dungeon—the Locum Malificar. Of the few regrets Seraph had, sending his true friends to their deaths was one of them.

  The guild had turned to player killing with him after the elves had refused to give them access to the high-end items they needed to survive and advance in the dungeon. To fall behind meant death, and to be weaker than another guild would have meant all of their deaths. Some of the other guilds had allied directly with the elves, further restricting trade and further widening the gap.

  In the absence of options, they took the one that had remained. But their goal had never been to become killers. They had always wanted to survive, and survival can force a man to do many hard things. To do less was suicide.

  Staring up at the ceiling, he thought about his dream and what it could mean. Seraph knew he needed to figure it out. Something rolled at the edge of his mind, a secret to be uncovered, but it never quite revealed itself.

  Over on the couch, Sadie began to stir, her racial change complete. Even now, Seraph could see that her skin had lightened and paled. It was almost white, and like he, she now sported short horns on her forehead, and her hair had turned to grey.

  “I’m starting to stall,” Seraph admitted to himself out loud. “I’ve been running headfirst without a real plan for a while now, and though I’m stronger, I don’t think I’ve come any closer to saving humanity. War is coming to the dungeon, and I don’t know how to prevent it.”

  A boot hurled through the air, striking him in the face.

  A blade reached out for his neck as Sadie moved from the couch to where he was sitting up on the bed in an instant. “Now, if you ever try something like that again, I’ll kill you myself."

  Retracting the blade, she spoke to him. “A week. You’ve been at this a week, and already your ego is making it out like you’re some sort of god. Did you think this would be easy? It isn’t. It’s not supposed to be. You haven’t done the work yet. You say you want to save humanity? You want to prevent that? Be a peacekeeper, be a peacemaker, that’s all you can do. Stop trying to figure out who you can kill, and try figuring out who you need to save.”

  Putting his hands on his knees, Seraph looked at her. "You’re right, Sadie. Will you help me save our people?"

  She glared and snorted. "Now you wanna be polite and ask. I'll help, but on one condition: you keep the elves alive too—not just the humans and whatever monster you want to make of us."

  "Deal," Seraph said, holding out his hand.

  Sadie just looked down at it. "Not falling for that again."

  "Fine." Seraph sighed as he moved to put all of his gear on. "We need to get rolling anyways before all the new people show up in a few hours."

  Chapter 25: The Mistake

  * * *

  “So, Sadie,” said Seraph as they made their way into the hall, “do you have any idea where the rest of my team might be?”

  “Actually, I do,” she answered. “After the ordeal your father had on the second floor, and after Jack was Ghost Touched by that Wraith Mother, they both needed some time in recovery. I’m guessing both are likely to be in the second-floor physical training room. They both need to be doing physical therapy to get back into top shape.”

  Seraph raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean physical therapy? Shouldn’t the dungeon heal everything.”

  “Your dad’s still missing his hand, and Jack is still missing a sizable chunk of his stamina that hasn’t recovered,” Sadie said with a hint of frustration. “Why wouldn’t they need a little help to get back to fighting form.”

  Raising her hand to the bridge of her nose in frustration, Sadie continued, “Seraph, you do u
nderstand that for most people, the dungeon does not grant them the same sort of strength it granted you, or afford them the same kind of allowances. For whatever reason, the dungeon took a special interest in you. Your experience can’t be applied to everyone else.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Seraph admitted but not really believing it. “My father lost part of his arm. As a bearer of the Sword and Shield emblem of the Hero, the dungeon should have restored the lost arm. That’s the way it’s always been, and Jack should have got over being Ghost-Touched fairly easily.”

  Laughing at him as they reached the elevator, Sadie responded, “This may come as a surprise to you, Seraph, but even a cripple can be a Hero. No law exists in heaven or hell that says only the completely able bodied can be selfless, and what do you think Ghost-Touched even means? Ghost-Touched didn’t exist the last time you were here.”

  Ignoring what felt like the beginning of a lecture, Seraph pressed the button to the second floor, and as the door shut bringing them up to the next floor, an awkward silence settled between them.

  Avoiding looking in her direction, Seraph muttered out the question that was on his mind now. A question that he had overlooked and was embarrassed that he had done so. “Are they OK?”

  She shook her head. “No, not really, and I’m not sure that they will be.”

  The elevator door opened, and Seraph was surprised to see Dwight, George, and Mary at the door, ready to step into the elevator. Each looked noticeably stronger than the last time Seraph had seen them.

  “Where have you guys all been?” Seraph asked curiously. “I didn’t see any of you on the pier or the road of the second floor.”

  George didn’t say anything and stepped back, his good eye blazing with hatred, as the milky orb of the regrown eye that Seraph had destroyed floated uselessly. As he stepped past Seraph into the elevator, he walked into him with enough force to knock him off balance.

  He’s grown a lot stronger, thought Seraph with a bit of unease. I’ll need to watch out for him.

  Mary walked by next mouthing an “I’m sorry.” But she didn’t interfere otherwise.

  Dwight, the man who had become a minotaur, waved goodbye to the two in the elevator and started walking down the hallway before explaining, “I’m too big to fit into the elevator. I take the stairs, but since I’ve got a second of your time and George isn’t around, I’m going to fill you in on a secret that you missed out on. None of us were meant to go straight through one of the gates. There are plenty of beginner spots around Hometown to level up. We’ve been clearing monsters out of the woods, the sewers, and a few of the haunted guild halls since we got here, stopping only at night.”

  The realization hit Seraph, and he stopped in his tracks. He had made the assumption that the first delving floor of the dungeon was through the gate leading to the second floor. He had never thought to consider that Hometown itself was the first delving floor. He curled his fist and slammed it into the wall in anger.

  “Did you know? Did you know I was wasting my time, putting myself into danger that was totally unneeded yet? We almost wiped. I almost died. So, did you know?” Seraph turned to Sadie in angry accusation as they headed down the hall towards the physical training room.

  Sadie leveled the look back at him, her eyes fierce as her face curled up in a sneer, accentuated by the scar that had become ever more prominent now that her skin had paled since turning Fel. “Tread carefully, Seraph. You know well the gap between us that still exists. My patience with you is only so much.”

  Her face softened as she exerted control over the anger she felt towards him. “It doesn’t matter if I knew. There are some things I can’t tell you, and some things I won’t tell you. The location of places to grind for experience and Sol is one of them, and the nature of the dungeon floors I know about is another. I’ll help keep you alive, but I’ve secrets entrusted to me that won’t be shared with you. Understand?”

  Seraph let go of the anger he was feeling. All he really had was himself to blame. Everything he had seen kept telling him that this time around the dungeon was different, the rules were different, and yet here he was, making one mistake after another, thinking that he had some sort of advantage in his foreknowledge when so far a lot of that knowledge was already obsolete. The only real advantage he had was his relationship with the dungeon and its minions, and the resilience his past experiences had given him.

  “It’s over here,” said Sadie as she approached the dark glass doors towards the end of the hall that had a sign that read “The Physician’s Physical Therapy.” If Jack and his father weren’t in there, Seraph knew where he would be heading next.

  Directly across the hall, Seraph could see the training area, and deeper still, he knew he could find the sparring arena, but with everyone in the dungeon currently accounted for, the room was empty. Though it wouldn’t be for long.

  A little redundant, thought Seraph as he looked at the sign as they entered the clinic.

  Chapter 26: Casualties

  * * *

  When the two of them stepped into the clinic, it was not what Seraph had expected at all. He had thought he was stepping into a small office, something sterile, bland, with questionable chair placement next to stacks of old magazines and dim lights illuminating old wallpaper.

  Instead, what Seraph saw was a fully functioning, state-of-the-art training floor. However, what drew his attention the most was not the facility, but the old man currently running through the assault-styled obstacle course. Gliding over the balance beams that looked out over cool-looking pits of water, he jumped and swung from dangling ropes onto sheer rock faces, climbing up to the top and reaching tiny flimsy-looking platforms that dangled from supports, jumping across each with ease.

  It was an impressive sight to see, but Seraph couldn’t bring himself to praise the effort. He knew the old man was no mere man—likely another elf—and for an elf running the course was athletic, but not amazing.

  When Seraph had enough of watching, he got Sadie’s attention. “Let’s get going; we need to find this physician.”

  Sadie shook her head. “You already found him,” she explained, pointing at the old man working the obstacle course. “That’s him. That’s the physician. All we need to do is wait for him to be done.”

  They didn’t need to wait long for the old man to finish running the course. With the ability and speed he was showing, it appeared that he was well versed in the course. He was working on his mastery of the layout rather than struggling through it.

  When the physician finished and walked over towards them, Seraph was glad he had restrained himself and had not shown outright disrespect toward the man. The aura the physician was exuding was on a different level than anyone Seraph had encountered in this life—even in his past life. Judgement of the aura alone would have placed him within the top 100 most powerful people within the dungeon.

  Strange, thought Seraph as he worked to keep his face straight and not reveal his inner thoughts. I don’t recognize him, and with power like this, I would have crossed paths with him.

  As the physician approached, he grabbed a towel from the front counter and used it to pat himself off. Though the man had appeared to move effortlessly through the course, his clothes were stained with sweat. It was not a mark of weakness. “What can I help you two with?” he asked, not bothering to introduce himself.

  “I’m looking for my father and a friend of mine—a human and a new elf. The human is my father, his name is Paul, and the elf is my companion, Jack. We’ve been traveling together since arriving, and we got caught outside at night and got separated.”

  “I’m well aware of who they are, young demon. It’s not like there have been many of you humans and race changers walking around. Though, for clarity’s sake, referring to your father as human, when you are not, isn’t exactly intuitive. You might want to adjust that perspective a bit,” advised the physician.

  “You know the difference. I was born a man, as were
my other companions. Whether we have stayed that is what the situation has required,” responded Seraph irritably, before catching himself and adjusting his tone as Sadie sent an elbow into his side as a reminder to watch himself.“

  The physician nodded. “You’ll get no judgment from me, Seraph. You’ve enough faults and sins that I don’t need to make assumptions based on your appearance. Your story tells me everything I need to know about you.

  “But I am a doctor first and foremost. I’ll go ahead and take you to the both of them. They’re in my infirmary. Each of the two men are having a rough time of things and recovery has stalled. Based on the injuries your father was evacuated with, he managed to reach a critical state between life and death. The stress of that trauma appears to have warped his thoughts and damaged his mind,” explained the physician with a regretful expression on his face. “But maybe seeing you will be good for him and speed up the recovery. The dungeon may heal wounds, but a wound of the mind recovers at the rate an individual can learn to cope and build resilience to it.”

  Seraph frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d like to help him if I can. How’s Jack doing? It was an emergency when I left him at the door of the Inn.”