Seventh Realm Part 1: A LitRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 8)

by Michael Chatfield

  Ikeda and his Knights rode up in their red armor. The ground, dry from the summer heat and loose from the press of feet, released a cloud of dust that Salyn shielded his eyes from.

  He held his tongue through a powerful force of will as the dust dissipated.

  “Lord Knight Ikeda,” Salyn greeted, when he felt he wouldn’t be spitting out dirt the next second.

  “Crossing the army into Rodenheim’s lands. I didn’t think that day would come,” Ikeda said, looking around his saddle.

  On a hill in the distance, a group of mounted knights watched the Shikoshi Army marching down the road.

  Ikeda waved to them. “That’s sure to piss them off.” He laughed, turning on his mount with the sound of shifting armor and stretching leather he moved in his saddle.

  “Anyway, Salyn, you will be part of my command staff. You have been to King’s Hill twice and have been in the Beast Mountain Range for weeks. I need your knowledge. The Captain of your guard as well.”

  Being among the leaders could give him an opportunity to make new contacts and grow his network. He wouldn’t be able to sneak off and kill the Alvans, though. With Drev with him, his personal guard would have to handle the rest of his guards. Maybe he wouldn’t need to kill the Alvans. Maybe someone else would save him the trouble.

  “I am honored, Lord Knight Ikeda. I will do all in my power to assist you.”

  “Good. We’re meeting the Rodenheim, Turkell, and Di armies tonight. Make sure you attend.”

  41

  Slow Drag

  Rugrat and Roska sat in one of the defensive towers playing rock helmet. A miniature defensive fort, one out of tens that dotted Vuzgal, created interlinking spheres of coverage and support.

  Rugrat threw his rock, getting it into the helmet with a satisfying clink.

  Roska’s rock followed his and landed inside.

  The rest of Roska’s Special Team Two sprawled out in a corner of the map room, some sleeping, some talking, others playing cards or reading.

  “Oh!” Davos wind-milled his arms on the balcony as he tipped over and fell backward.

  The CPD members he was talking with rushed to the bannister.

  Rugrat reached out with his domain, ready to grab him, but spotted the grin on Davos’ face as he fell. “It’s only forty meters, right?”

  “Yeah.” Roska threw another rock and raised her voice. “Stop falling off the buildings and scaring people, Davos!”

  Others on Special Team Two snorted and laughed at the close protection detail’s reactions. They were used to this kind of messing around.

  Davos used spells to level off and land.

  The group of CPD members looked back at the muffled noise below.

  Rugrat spotted a cup and threw his rock. He heard the plop as it hit liquid. He stopped, hand mid-air to throw another rock, and looked at Roska who stared at him with wide eyes.

  Who the fuck’s cup is that?

  Fuck if I know.

  Rugrat changed his point of aim and threw his rock into the helmet as if that was what he intended the entire time.

  Roska cocked her head to the side. “Sounds like the reservists are back.”

  Rugrat heard the footfalls with a sergeant calling out the cadence. “Two weeks refresher and right into this. They’re not doing bad.”

  “Doing better than I expected. The training staff gave them the basics. Now they’re putting it to practical usage.”

  “What practical usage they can.” Rugrat tossed another rock.

  “One attack every three days. Marco is biding his time until he gets the support he wants. Do the Associations really want to mediate a deal between the sects and Vuzgal?”

  “Yeah, they do. They love being the middleman and picking up something to get things going again. Sneaky, but it keeps the balance and assures that they have the greatest control over the situation. Though we’re not going to take the deal.”

  Roska grunted in understanding, tossing her rock to bounce off the wall and into the helmet.

  Rugrat picked up the rocks in the helmet with his mana manipulation and brought them back between them, creating a pile as they started throwing them again. “Erik told me to write the letter, try to piss them off and draw them into an attack instead of this parade of creating hardened earth paths over the soup.”

  “Guess that’s what we get for having defenses that are so good?”

  “There is always a way to defeat them.”

  Sergeant Major Stenbock, second-in-command of Third Battalion, walked into the room. Roska and Rugrat looked over, lowering their stones.

  “How was the view?” Rugrat asked.

  “Same shit, different day.” Stenbock shrugged, taking off his helmet. “They expanded their camps, created stone roads. They’re trying out new spells on the ground.”

  “I thought they might pack it in after the last thrashing we gave them.” Roska sighed.

  “They might not have been pleased seeing that many Fifth Realm fighters torn up, but I guess we’re more valuable,” Rugrat said.

  Stenbock grunted in agreement, and they turned back to what they were doing. Rugrat weighed the stone in his hand, seeing the broken enemy formations that had fled every time they engaged the Vuzgal defenses.

  It made him think about World War One. Just enemies separated by a strip of land. They have a camp over there; we have ours here. If they had used their mounted aerial forces, the pressure would have stretched the Alvans a little more.

  “What the fuck! Why is there—was that a rock? In my coffee! I fucking swallowed it!”

  The other special team members laughed as Rugrat stored the rocks in his storage ring and used his domain to sneak the helmet full of them across the room and to his side.

  His secret was safe with Roska, but then he caught the gazes from the other members of the team. Shut the fuck up. Stop looking at me!

  Lord Salyn rode over the hill with Lord Knight Ikeda’s group. Behind them was the Shikoshi army, weary from travels that had worn on for weeks.

  “There it is, the United Army’s Host,” Ikeda said.

  Rough camps had been thrown up in five distinct groupings. They were like a dead flower that had forgotten to release its petals. Wagons wore a path through the camps, heading off along different roads, old or freshly created, carrying the supplies needed for such a vast collection of people. With the support needed for the host, the number ballooned from one hundred and forty thousand to over four hundred thousand, including the Shikoshi Kingdom’s own warriors and the mercenaries.

  “Come on, we’re expected.” Ikeda snapped his reins, and they made their way down toward the massive tent in the middle of the different army camps. People grumbled but cleared out of the way as they rode through the tent city to the main tent at the center.

  The breeze carried dust into Salyn’s face, and he felt the grit on his teeth. He hid his groan as he dismounted, moving his legs side to side, feeling the wear of riding for days on end. A bath and a bed were much needed, maybe some nightly company from some of the ladies among the camp followers.

  He walked with generals, knight troop leaders, noblemen, and mercenary leaders who trailed after Ikeda; there were about ten in total.

  They passed into a different world as braziers at the entrance of the tent burned incense, fighting against the smell of the camp beyond. Inside, flooring had been laid down, food and drink laid out, people sat on couches or meandered around the room. A few were looking at the maps that depicted the Beast Mountain Ranges.

  Salyn looked at their clean armor and freshly shaved faces with jealousy.

  “Ah, Lord Ikeda!” a rotund man wearing fine beast fur clothes said in greeting.

  “Lord Aras, it is good to see you,” Lord Ikeda greeted the other man.

  No wonder he was so large. The Aras family had been a power in this area for generations. The city of Shida was a key access point between the Beast Mountain Range and several other nations. Salyn had only had food ra
tions over the last few days and couldn’t afford to get too skinny or they would think him poor.

  “Come, have a look at the main map. New information has come in,” Aras said.

  Ikeda glanced at Salyn.

  They moved to the map. It was crude, made of pieces of hide that had been sewn together into one large map. It was impressive, though there were a few flaws.

  “With your force now joining us, we have our military commander! The other two hosts, smaller in comparison,” Aras assured Ikeda, “are still amassing in the north and to the east.”

  The force in the east was to strike Vermire before heading inwards. It would get them accolades, but Vermire was Lord Aditya’s outpost and wouldn’t fall easily. On the map, it looked like a large kidney bean.

  The outposts and King’s Hill created a sort of disjointed wagon wheel shape. The outposts were dotted around the uneven Beast Mountain Range. Roads connected them to the outside kingdoms and to one another. Razor-straight lines cut through forests, mountains, and over hills to connect to King’s Hill in the center.

  “People have been fleeing the Beast Mountain Range for several weeks now. The children that attended the Consortium have given us detailed information on the internal layout of the outpost.” Aras waved to a large map showing the entirety of the range. Various nobles examined it as if they knew what it all meant, muttering to one another like war generals plotting their next move.

  “Has the Willful Institute showed up?” Ikeda asked.

  “They have not appeared yet.” Aras sighed.

  “Okay.” Ikeda looked at the plan. “We will wait for them to arrive. They may have orders for us.” Ikeda pointed to the smaller markers that lay opposite the outposts.

  “With our main armies camped back from the outposts, they will not know where we will attack first,” Aras said.

  “It will be hard to maintain the secret for too long.”

  Aras nodded in agreement.

  “If the Willful Institute does not have orders for us, those guarding forces will remain in position while the armies attack their designated outposts and drive toward King’s Hill in a lightning strike. If we hit them hard and fast, they won’t have time to move people to support the outposts we plan to attack. Then we can cut up the roads into King’s Hill.”

  “Brilliant, brilliant plan, Lord Ikeda!” Aras raised his ring-covered hand, clasping a glass in salute.

  “The simplest plans are the best plans when we have strength on our side.” Ikeda chuckled.

  “Indeed! With enough people, no one can stop us.”

  “New orders from High Elder Cai Bo,” the messenger announced, passing the scroll to Mistress Mercy.

  She opened it as he bowed and left her office. Once finished, she passed it to Niklaus, who stood beside her.

  “We are to prepare our forces for immediate redeployment to the lower realms to support the Flaming Sword Operation. Forces from several sects, mainly the Stone Fist Sect and the Willful Institute, will attack the cities of the forces opposing the Willful Institute. Secondarily, they will conduct attacks to recover stolen cities and strike out against forces deployed against the Willful Institute,” Niklaus read out the scroll aloud for the benefit of the other commanders in the room.

  It had taken months to pull together all these different factions and groups and prepare them for war. Fighting in the Fourth Realm was consuming all their resources. Instead of leading an attack on the First Realm and finding out what secrets there were, they were expected to divert their efforts. Mercy shook her head, lost in her thoughts and paying no attention to Niklaus.

  “This is the counterattack we have been waiting for,” Niklaus declared as the commanders talked excitedly amongst one another.

  Their force would be one of the most coordinated. They had the greatest number of resources, and if they did well on the battlefield, they would gain greater supplies to take the Beast Mountain Range and make it their own. It was a small power, but it would become her small power, completely under her control, feeding much-needed people into the Institute.

  She smiled and stood from her chair. The commanders paused, looking at her.

  “Prepare the army to move. It is not our original mission, but the rewards are much higher! Niklaus, I leave the planning to you, but I do not doubt that we can capture a city in the Second, or the Third Realm!”

  Cheers rose, and the commanders eyes shone. Loot and plunder motivated any sect fighter.

  “Your contributions will be noted and passed on to the sect. This is a grand opportunity that comes only a few times in one’s lifetime. Let us seize it!”

  Greed ignited in their eyes as cheers filled with savagery.

  Mercy looked at Niklaus. “Send some of our people to the First Realm to oversee things there. Have the First Realm kingdoms attack to prove that they are worth coming under the Willful Institute banner.”

  “Yes, Mistress Mercy.” Niklaus bowed his head.

  Blaze watched the attack on the city of Lasco.

  “We’ve broken through their outer defenses. They only had two inner walls. Soon, we will take the city,” the sect elder, from the force leading the attack, said. He wore intricately carved armor that was more a work of art than functional, much like his impressive mustache.

  So many of these fools. What’s his name? Ronald? Gerald? Timold? No, it’s R-something… Rosinal? Yup, yeah, I think that’s it. Bit of a fool or plays the part well. They may have taken the outer wall, but the inner walls wouldn’t be so easy.

  Blaze raised viewing glasses to his eyes.

  The inner wall was a sea of spells and siege weaponry firing into the outer city as sects charged through the holed wall. Blaze saw his guild’s units organizing their forces, getting them focused and out of the bloody vanguard.

  There was the sound of feet on the stairs that led to the top of the observation tower.

  Blaze checked on the positions of his people, consolidating within the wall. It had happened more than once that the sects rushed in, eager to get inside the walls only to lose so many people that they lost their foothold. We’ll just say that a lot of our people died, that we were disorganized. They’ll make some snide remarks. I can take the hit to my pride if it saves my people’s lives. And what the hell is this messenger doing here?

  Blaze looked back as the messenger passed a letter to Jasper, who quickly read it. He frowned as Jasper looked up and indicated with his eyes for Blaze to join him.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” Blaze said as he moved to Jasper and took the offered letter. He opened it and read the scrawled message.

  Willful Institute and Stone Fist Sect are preparing to counter-attack sects currently attacking Willful Institute cities. Targeting cities that armies came from. Advise withdrawal from battlefield ASAP.

  The cities were poorly defended and filled with supplies to support the fighting. If they could pin the sects against their walls and attack the supporting cities, they would gain a quick victory, supplies, and a base to attack the sect’s rear.

  Blaze looked at Jasper, who nodded.

  “I’m sorry, esteemed elders. An issue has come up that I must see to personally.”

  “Go, go, everything is well in hand,” the elder, whom Blaze thought was Rosinal, dismissed him.

  Blaze’s mind buzzed as he headed down the stairs with Jasper and his guards. He used his sound transmission device so no one else could hear them. “This is across all battlefields?”

  “Don’t know at this time; we only know the overall plan, not their targets. It could happen in the next three days. Our spies are getting flushed out of the Willful Institute as the sect is forced to work together.”

  Blaze clenched his jaw. “If we pull back our people and the attack doesn’t come for several days, we’ll look like cowards. Fuck, what do I care what we look like? We’ve hit the enemy hard. Send word to all the branch heads. Retreat from the battlefield. Where are we going to go though?”

  Jasper p
assed him an information book.

  Blaze took it, using his blood to unlock the seal.

  ==========

  Adventurer’s Guild Retreat plan

  ==========

  Do you wish to activate this information book? Doing so will destroy this information book.

  YES/NO

  ==========

  “Yes.”

  The book dissolved as information flooded Blaze’s mind.

  “Do you have the box?” Blaze asked.

  “Yeah.” Jasper pulled out a chest.

  “Commander Glosil is a busy man.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He made an entire fallback plan for our forces. In that chest are three sets of orders that we can issue to our people to tell them how to retreat based on the situation. We don’t have to plan it out, just follow them.”

  “Where are we going, though?”

  “The backup dungeons.”

  “What? I thought those were a secret?”

  “They are. Everyone will have to take a contract to seal their lips. But the dungeons, if you don’t know about the dungeon core, look like underground bases. They’re massive, large enough to hold all our people. The guild members’ families can also be evacuated there. They have training facilities, and we have been given permission to invite the people we trust to become Alvans. There is no maximum anymore.”

  “Well, this will change things a little.”

  “A little.” Blaze coughed and cleared his throat, feeling his eyes itch with a small smile on his face. The Alva Army had supported them with training and fellow fighters. Alva’s crafters had supplied their food, their armor, their weapons. Alva’s medics had saved countless Guild members. Alva hoarded its secrets, but they did not have secrets between one another.

  To be an Alvan. His heart beat faster and he blinked against his increasingly itchy eyes, pride filling his heart as purpose marshalled his thoughts.