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

by Michael Chatfield

  “This will sustain me for several days. If I have to exit without a connection to a greater power source, or in a higher mana density area, or have to use spells, then that time will be cut down considerably.”

  “I understand,” Glosil said gravely.

  “Been a few centuries since I left Alva.” Egbert sounded uneasy as he floated his box over to Glosil, who put him under a blanket in front of himself.

  “Well, as Momma Rodriguez says, best to rip off the Band-Aid quickly.”

  In a flash, they disappeared from Alva and appeared in a city.

  “Welcome to Vuzgal.” Glosil’s voice was grim as he surveyed the damage.

  “Come on, to the command center.” Glosil took them down a path into the under city.

  “How can we still use the totem? Aren’t we under attack here?”

  “The sects fled. It released the city from its restrictions.”

  Wounded streamed past through the totem.

  Davin was released from his box. He flew around, licking his lips. The pie was mysteriously missing from his box.

  59

  Black Phoenix’s Frigate

  Rugrat jogged out of the headquarters.

  George noticed it first, making Rugrat look up.

  A massive black ship hovered over the soup where before, there had been nothing but sky. It looked like it was from the age of sail, but without the sails and angular sides down to the keel.

  “Guys, you seeing this?” he asked the command chat.

  “Warship floating in the sky, yeah. Why did we have to come to some magical realm? Why couldn’t it be a planet covered in beaches, beer, and women?” Erik growled.

  “And steak and food,” Rugrat added.

  “Well, this is rather disappointing,” Egbert said.

  “You all set up?” Glosil asked.

  “Yes, I am linked to the dungeon core. I’m in the main tower. That is a powerful looking ship. I think the exterior is made of stone. Rugrat, could you use your dungeon sense?”

  Rugrat activated his ability. It spread out, telling him of the dungeon core blazing underneath the tower and the empty valley where the three dungeon cores had been recovered.

  Then it passed through the ship.

  “Shit. That warship is a flying dungeon. There’s a big ass dungeon core inside it. Well, it’s tiny, but strong. A little weaker than the one under us.”

  “Well, commander, plans?” Erik asked.

  “We take out whatever is keeping that thing in the air, then we assault it,” Glosil said.

  “The ship seems to be charging up. It must take a lot of power to move something that size. I think we have some time before they attack,” Egbert said.

  “Dungeon Lords West and Rodriguez, I am Captain Stassov of the Black Phoenix Clan. You have ten minutes to turn over the dungeon core you control and submit to our rule as vassals of our clan, or we will wipe out your city and take the dungeon core.”

  Everyone fell silent at her proclamation.

  Rugrat used a spell to throw his voice. “What makes you think we have a core thing?”

  “You are not the only people with Dungeon Sense.”

  Rugrat canceled the spell. “Well then.” He got onto George’s back, the rest of special teams one and three mounting up. “Those artillery cannons, can they hit that thing?”

  “Yes,” Domonos said.

  “I’m increasing the Conqueror’s armor to two hundred percent. Anyone below level forty is to be evacuated. Mortar teams withdraw to secondary positions within the city.” Glosil’s words were punctuated by the rising wail of a siren over Vuzgal.

  “The forces out in the field?” Rugrat asked.

  “I’m ordering the forces under Blaze and Yui to withdraw immediately,” Glosil said.

  “A retreat?” Rugrat felt anger spark in his chest.

  “If we must.” Erik’s words made Rugrat pause.

  “Everything that is not necessary and is useful, evacuate it now. If we need to retreat, we need to be ready for it.”

  “Erik,” Rugrat said.

  “This might be our city, but we have another. Our people are our strength, not the walls.”

  It felt wrong to Rugrat, but he knew Erik was right. “Damn, all right.”

  “I listen and obey,” Glosil confirmed.

  Gregor landed on the ship’s deck, sliding off his mount with practised ease. Guards saluted as he passed. The doors down into the airship opened.

  The rippling wind that pulled at him and his personal guards’ clothes disappeared.

  They passed stables where fighters of the clan were mounting up. Seeing Gregor, they saluted and stepped against the walls, moving out of his path.

  Gregor had nothing to say as they moved past cannon batteries and went deeper into the ship. They walked along a walkway of glass and polished wood instead of the metal and stone of the upper decks.

  A park lay in the center of the ship with trees that rose several stories. It looked idyllic with a Chinese-influenced tower in the middle, and walkways of glass and wood connecting it to different decks.

  Guards checked their medallions on the bridge, then again at the entrance to the tower.

  They entered a ringed walkway that went around the tower. They passed another checkpoint, and Gregor led him up a set of stairs. Men and women with the severe look of those on a mission nodded to Gregor and kept going, giving room but not stopping their actions.

  They reached the top of the stairs, the command tower surveying the surrounding park.

  The room was laid out like an octagon. At the front, three walls were pure glass tilting up and away to allow one to peer down at the park below.

  Projections covered the windows, showing the exterior of the airship as if they were at the front of the ship instead of in its heart.

  People worked at consoles that were laid out according to the shape of the room. In the center, a crystal-clear map pulsed as greater detail was added.

  At the table, a man wearing an emblem with a blue backing was talking to a woman with a green backing.

  Ranko looked older. There were streaks of grey in his black hair. His green eyes were pale and almost washed out. His eyes and mana channels glowed with power. His casting hood was down. Golden lines had been tattooed into a formation at the back of his skull, running down his spine and across his face, making him appear regal and aloof. They framed his aged years instead of being garish.

  His armor was lighter than Gregor’s and he had white cloth robes that shimmered with sewn formations.

  The woman, Bela, looked younger, or she took better care of herself. She wore similar clothes. Power washed out her eyes as well, making them both look ethereal, as if they were spirits only visiting this plane. She had brown and black lines tattooed on her skin. Her blond hair was pulled back in a severe braid without a piece out of place.

  The white of Gregor’s emblem denoted him as part of the Dungeon Recovery team; green for ground forces, blue for aerial.

  Captain Stassov sat in the back of the room on a great throne.

  Her emblem backing was made of the finest crystal that shone with prismatic light.

  “Captain Stassov.” Gregor knelt as he bowed his head and cupped his hands.

  “Rise.” She walked past him and to the map, Gregor trailing behind to join the aerial and ground force commanders, Ranko and Bela.

  Stassov looked at the map. “Have they shown any signs of surrender?”

  “Not yet, commander.” Ranko traced the golden line through his goatee.

  “Are your aerial forces ready?”

  “They are on the flight deck and ready to advance as needed.” Ranko bowed his head.

  “Bela, your ground forces?”

  “We are just waiting for the first wave of attacks, my lady.”

  “Gregor?” Stassov sounded amused as she looked at the man.

  Gregor grinned, showing his teeth as he cupped his fist toward her. “The Dungeon team stands rea
dy!”

  Captain Stassov moved her fingers through the light that made up Vuzgal like rippling water before she closed her hand.

  An aide saluted. “There is a group flying toward the Eternus from the sect’s camps.”

  Stassov’s hand stilled.

  “That should be the one I asked to be collected, the one who led the attack against the city,” Gregor said.

  “Gregor, it’s best to tell me these things earlier. If any of those other sects try to come up here…” Stassov’s eyes lay on the aide, who started sweating and shaking. “The main cannon will take another five minutes to charge. Then we will begin.” She turned and walked back to her seat.

  Ranko, Bela, and Gregor bowed to her back. She flicked her cloak out of her way as she sat back down. Formations appeared in a pillar in front of her, around the dungeon core.

  “Deploy the main cannon.”

  Those at the consoles picked up their pace as they input commands to the airship.

  60

  Shattered

  Erik pushed off the castle district wall he’d been leaning on. “That thing has to be charging up,” he said. Power was being drawn from the area, from the sky and land. Pillars extended from the ship-mana gathering formations, drawing the mana into the core-ship.

  “I think we’re about to find out what for.” Roska pointed.

  Sections of the ship pushed out and moved as the lower section of the ship slid away from the sides that extended out.

  The blue light of mana appeared between the sections as they parted, allowing them to see right through the ship.

  Egbert landed next to them wearing his casting robes.

  “Well, that doesn’t look good. Looks like a big cannon right through the ship.”

  “Egbert, put our barriers to full power. Activate all secondary barriers.”

  Barriers rose from the inner barrier towers. Power glowed over the different bases and camps. Other barriers rose around the castle and powered up.

  “You think we can beat that thing?” Storbon asked.

  “Best to try.” Erik’s sound transmission device vibrated.

  “Erik, Rugrat, this is Glosil. I’m moving all personnel below level fifty out of the city. That’s most of the reserve divisions and the Adventurer’s Guild. Both of you will hold in the castle district. Your goal is to protect the dungeon core. If they breach the dungeon core, I will instruct the special teams to evacuate both of you, even if they have to knock you out and drag you away. Those needing medical assistance will be teleported to back up dungeons.”

  “Got it,” Rugrat said.

  “Copy,” Erik said.

  “I’ve sent word to Alva. Evacuation from all secondary sites is underway,” Elan said.

  “What are you thinking about the Wandering Inn, Sky Reaching Restaurants and such?”

  “I’ve passed it onto the council.”

  Erik hadn’t faced a fight where they were preparing to lose before it had even started. Looking at the ship, which had stopped its transformation, carved formations hung between the sections of ship like ribs. Looking through them, one would find a perfectly circular path.

  “Heading down.” Erik ran down the stairs from the wall, heading to the castle.

  They jogged across the castle grounds as the shadows of the city shifted.

  Erik threw up a mana barrier, as did Egbert, as the Frigate’s main cannon fired.

  The mana from the ship and its surrounding area was sucked in, creating a spear of energy before it shot through the crackling formations.

  The spear tore through the outer mana barrier, then the inner mana barrier, through the castle compound barrier, and darkened the castle barrier. Wind collapsed buildings and the destructive energies tore apart the castle wall and gardens, destroying the parks, stables, training areas, and wrecking the Vuzgal Academy. It lost a considerable amount of its strength at each barrier, but the discharge of forces still cleared out blocks of buildings and tore apart the ground.

  Any aerial beasts in the air nearby were hurled away by the force.

  The special team’s barriers protected them from the wash of the cannon’s impact.

  The cannons along the sides of the Frigate glowed and then fired again, raking Vuzgal with attacks.

  Someone caught the back of Erik’s vest and pushed him toward the castle.

  Erik grabbed at Egbert, catching his arm.

  “Egbert.” He looked into his blue flames. “Do whatever you can to take out that ship!”

  “And what will you do?”

  ==========

  Event

  ==========

  The city of Vuzgal is under attack!

  ==========

  Role: City Lord

  You have picked to Defend Vuzgal

  ==========

  Erik swiped the notification away and gritted his teeth. “I’ll head to the rear and lend my support.”

  Egbert put a skeletal hand on Erik’s shoulder and squeezed. “Be safe.”

  “And you.” Erik clasped his shoulder.

  They released one another. Erik turned and ran with the special team toward the dungeon core. The heat at the back of his neck spread across his face, burning as he turned his back. Duty was a heavy word when lives hung in the balance.

  Acosta hit her fire panel; the artillery cannon activated, and spell formations appeared down its length, revealing its full capabilities.

  The pre-sighted artillery and mana cannons rippled as they fired on the ship.

  A massive mana barrier enveloped the ship. Their repeated hits were flares of sparks against the ship’s background.

  The ship’s cannons fired again, pummeling the ground, and causing the bunker’s smaller mana barriers to darken as they fought to protect the basic mana cannon bunkers beneath.

  “Reload!” Acosta yelled.

  Vuzgal’s main barrier crumbled like a soap bubble popping in slow motion.

  “Loaded!” Nuemann yelled.

  Acosta triggered the cannon again. The wave of force hit her as she stared at the barrier. She shook herself and focused on her task.

  “Reload!” Acosta growled, watching for anything, something, to tell her they were having an effect.

  Three hits registered on the barrier, causing it to flare violently.

  “Damn you, beautiful rail cannons!”

  She picked a new point of aim, right where the rail cannons had hit. The cannon rotated with the periscope as the next round was loaded in.

  “Firing!” The cannon bucked as the darkened section of barrier, like a tumor, started to grow, the other artillery cannons locking onto it.

  “Reload!”

  “Loade—” Acosta was thrown to the side, smashing into the bunker wall. She felt something snap in her right arm. Her helmet saved her head as rocks fell on her.

  Another hit struck the bunker, dropping a section of roof. Acosta raised a barrier around herself, taking the impact of the roof.

  Hits rang out around her as she lay on her back looking up at the section of wall. She put force into her right arm and pushed. The section of wall was thrown off.

  “Two hundred percent power,” Acosta muttered, wincing at her right arm as it hung limply by her side. Minor wounds covered the rest of her body.

  “Neumann! Neumann! Where are you?”

  She used a detect life spell. The wave of power spread through the room, but it didn’t find anything.

  “Shit. I don’t remember having skylights.” The formations were dead, no longer connected to the power runes. The cannon’s runners were broken, and the cannon now rested on the inner and outer shields, pointing into the sky.

  “Neumann!”

  She moved to the other side of the cannon; rubble shifted under her feet.

  “Fuck sakes.” She growled, looking up as she gritted her teeth, ignoring her arm. She looked at where Neumann should have been.

  She grabbed onto the stone with mana and threw it to the side.

&n
bsp; “Ah, fuck.” She stumbled. Neumann was flat on his back, staring opened-eyed at the roof. “Dammit.” She forced her eyes away from his lower torso. There was nothing below his ribs.

  She moved closer, grabbing his dog tags from around his neck, fumbling with them to pull off the one she needed. She closed his eyes and stored him in her storage ring, then hobbled toward the rear of the bunker.

  “Must’ve fucked my knee up too.” She grunted and used the back of the cannon to pull herself over a pile of bunker.

  She looked at the closed breach. She looked up the barrel of the cannon. It was still pointed at the ship. “One last shot, huh, girl?” Acosta patted the barrel as she got down on the other side. She only needed enough power to loop the formations into the fire controls. There would be a secondary manual fire control somewhere. She looked around the breach of the gun and found a hook.

  She pulled out mana stones, using them to power the formations. They flickered to life as she took a piece of string and hooked it onto the manual firing pin. She hobbled to the rear of the bunker.

  She cleared out a path and checked her string.

  “Fuck you, pricks!”

  She pulled on the string. The cannon fired and rocked backward, the formations dying around it as it tilted and fell off its carriage.

  Dust flew everywhere as Acosta coughed. She looked through the bunker skylights at the ship. A cannon round had made it through the barrier and struck the side of the ship, exploding and making some formations stutter and fail More hits opened up on the barrier.

  Acosta hobbled out of the bunker and down the stairs.

  She opened what looked like a fire alarm, pulled the lever, turned it, and pressed it down.

  Explosions rang through the artillery cannon bunker as she hobble-ran through Vuzgal’s tunnels.

  Egbert stood in the air. Sections of the castle compound’s manicured grounds shuddered as rail and artillery cannons’ armored coverings opened. The cannons fired, their barrels releasing gouts of flame and mana discharge skyward, their constant thundering peeling through the city.

  Rounds crossed over the different defensive zones, striking the heart of the United Sect Army Camps. The railguns and artillery cannons lit up the sect’s mana barriers. They held for several seconds before collapsing.