by Reed James
“So, you're the one that's got all the priests buzzing about,” she said, eyeing me. “You're the one who crossed the Digital Barrier.”
“What?” I gasped.
Chapter Three: Ambush Gone Wild
Maria du Marne
“This is just so cute,” Maria said to Dëshoma, holding up a pair of panties that had strings the wearer knotted at their hips to hold it on. “I bet Marcus would love seeing you in them.”
And me... Maria couldn't think about those things. She wouldn't be in his party forever. Just until she found the cure. It wasn't her destiny to be a Shardhunter for the rest of her life. She had a home to return to. People waiting for her.
Derrick...
“Wouldst he enjoy seeing me garbed in this most scanty adornment?” asked Dëshoma. She had such a rosy blush that matched the red of her habit. “What dost thou think, Lady Kulrigiizhai?”
“They would look attractive on you,” the elf said. She stood unconcerned that a few men were staring at her exposed nipples.
She could walk naked through the city and not bat an eye. Maria shivered at the thought. Her breasts rose and fell in her armor. She didn't like wearing metal any longer. It felt too heavy and restrictive. Now that she was a Duelist she wanted to move. If she had to fight in this, she would be in trouble. We should be shopping for gear.
“Okay, Marcus,” Maria said, turning to the street. “I think we're ready to shop for real... Marcus?”
Dëshoma stepped up beside her. “Where did Lord Marcus go?”
“He and Iris went down an alley,” Kulri said as she studied a brassier that would lift her large breasts into a delicious mound.
And cover her nipples.
“Why didn't you say anything?” Maria demanded.
“I am not Marcus Aurelius's keeper,” she answered.
You're practically his sex slave, though. Maria understood submitting to the party leader, that was sexy and exciting, but the humiliation parts that made Kulri wet made little sense to Maria. How could Marcus degrading her, calling her merely elf like she were just a thing, turn Kulri on? Make her drip and come alive with passion?
“Perhaps we should go look for him,” said Dëshoma, a hint of worry in her voice. The golden aura about her head, dim in the sunlight, seemed to flicker and pulse. “I know he is the mightiest of warriors, full of dauntless resolve and martial courage, but he doth not know this city nor its myriad paths. I fear he might become lost from us.”
“Right, right,” Maria agreed. “Which alley, Kulri?”
“The one Iris is flying out of.”
The pixie darted out into the street and rushed towards them. She stopped before them, wings buzzing. She panted, her naked, little titties rising and falling.
“Is Marcus in danger?” Maria asked.
“He is... following a... suspicious... man...” Iris managed to spit out. She held her sides. “Flew... fast as... could...”
“He's following a Warrior in armor,” Kulri added. “Tall and imposing figure who was watching us.”
“Kulri!” Maria gasped in exasperation. “Didn't you think any of that was relevant?”
“If Marcus wished our aid, he merely had to command it.” The elf set down the brassier and looked at the next one. It was a bright magenta and trimmed with purple lace. She shook her head.
“Well, let's go look for him,” Maria said. “Come on, Kulri! You can look at underwear later. Iris, lead on!”
“Yes, ma'am!” the pixie said and saluted with her hand to her forehead.
* * / *
“Digital Barrier?” I asked the short woman. She had to be a halfling. One of the eight playable races. A dwarf would be taller and probably bustier. “How do you know about that?”
Did that mean this was inside a computer somewhere? That I hadn't traveled to another world but into a constructed one? Were there Player Characters moving around that had no idea I had entered the game for real? Had anyone else paid for this treat?
“That's just what they say,” the halfling said, shrugging. She held her rifle slung in the cradle of her arms. It was sized for her stature. She must be a Gunner, the Intelligence Path of the Rogue. Every class could continue on their primary stat, Dexterity for a Rogue and Strength for a Fighter, or travel an adjacent path, like he did. Each stat had the opposite that a Shardhunter couldn't walk down, leaving their Paths. For me, I couldn't ever walk an Intelligence Path just like Kulri could never walk a Strength Path as a Mage.
It allowed for a lot of customization with each path further branching several more times into new classes.
“So who is 'they'?” I asked, still not sure exactly what had happened to me.
“Priests of the Gods of Order and Light.” She said that with a sneer.
“You don't sound like a fan,” I said.
“Not of the priests.” She nudged the dead rogue at her feet.
“That's not a priest,” I said.
“Not a Shardhunter Priest, just a regular sort. Anyone can become a clergy member.” She looked at me like I should know that much. “These serve Pushijer.” With her foot, she prodded a tattoo on his arm of a diamond made of four inward bowing arms. Gentle curves instead of straight paths.
“Pushijer?” I said. “He's the god of...”
“Protection. I suppose they don't have priests on the other side of the Digital Barrier.”
“Do you know what's on the other side?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It's supposed to be a myth. The Gods were said to have come across it and created this world. The eighteen united in harmony before conflicts in how they viewed the world divided them into Light and Dark. Now you're here.”
“Only for a few days,” I said. So I must be in a computer world. Or something birthed from its creation. “Who are you? Why did you come to my aid?”
“Éjyona,” she said. “I just don't like riffraff like them and— Watch out!”
I whirled around to see the armored Warrior I tracked barreling around the corner. I cursed. I thrust my left hand into my pouch and fished out my wooden shield. Though it was far, far too big to fit into the pouch, I had no problem pulling it out. It appeared in my grip. I held it tight as I faced the incoming foe.
Behind him, three more figures raced. Another rogue like the pair I had fought, and what looked like a Mage in blue silks, not unlike the open robes that Kulri wore. She had a staff made of a rich, brown wood in her hand, a clear crystal set at the end. The last was an Acolyte with bright-blue hair. A clearly inhuman hue that matched her slanted, yellow eyes. She had pale skin and a lithe figure dressed in a gray habit of silk with a circle cutout showing off the inner slopes of her modest breasts. A gray skirt fluttered about her waist, a strange shimmer to it from some sort of magical enchantment.
“Fuck,” I growled.
The mage stopped and chanted. I knew those words. I braced and then Arcane Burst exploded around Éjyona and myself. The purple energy lashed at us, burning through a chunk of my Hit Points. Éjyona gasped.
“Group up?” I gasped.
“Yes!” the halfling Gunner answered.
Just like that, I became aware of her like I was of my other party members. Though I was far enough away that Maria, Kulri, Dëshoma, and Twist felt like ghostly blips. I couldn't tell if they were hurt or not. But Éjyona had been. The spell must have crit her, dealing extra damage to her.
“Fall back!” I growled at her and then went to rush at the mage and cut her down.
The armored Warrior burst forward in a blur of speed, a charge that covered the distance in a blink. His blade slammed into my shoulder, cutting through my bronze chain and burying into my flesh. Pain exploded.
“Fucking cock-sucker!” I growled and swung a Holy Strike. The Warrior raised his steel kite shield with a golden circle emblazoned on the front. My ax slipped past it and hit into him with a hard crunch.
A tingle raced through me, a fraction of the Hit Points I'd lost flowing back into me.
My heart pounded. I had no healing potions on me and had used my once a day ability to restore my Hit Points. I was in trouble. Éjyona's blunderbuss boomed behind me, striking the Wizard. The woman gasped, blood spilling over her body. She focused eyes, chanting again.
Another hit struck her before she got off a spell that fired three purple shards that knifed through the air for Éjyona. She shrieked in pain, her Hit Points plunging low just like mine were as I traded blows with the Warrior.
The priestess thrust her holy book against the wounded Wizard, sending white energy rippling over her, healing her. I groaned. This was getting real bad. The Warrior slammed his shield into mine, throwing back my defense, leaving me open to attack.
The sword thrust in and punched through my armor. Pain burst as my Hit Points dropped. A cold sank through my guts. Fear clawed at me. I was about to die. The small amount of healing from my ax's blows wasn't enough. And my attacks weren't landing as hard.
More armor. Higher level.
“You are the one?” the Warrior asked, voice echoing from the helmet, words distorted. “Is this a farce?”
“Sorry,” I groaned. “I'll try to be a better fucking chosen one next life!”
$50,000 for a few days worth of pleasure. It wasn't so bad. I saved a few girls from being sacrificed. They were real. This place couldn't just be code. The people I interacted with had souls. The sword drew back.
The Priestess cried out in pain.
The Warrior threw a look behind him and cursed. Maria du Marne, red hair flying behind her, wrenched her Black Iron Rapier out of the enemy Priestess's back. Her bright-blue hair swept in a curtain of shimmering silk as she staggered from the Precise Strike Maria's new class let her deal.
“Lord Marcus!” Dëshoma shouted behind Maria. “Let mine understanding of the positive energy of this world flow out and heal my companion!”
As the Warrior swung the finishing blow at me, a surge of healing energy rushed through me. Dëshoma's new ranged spell, Arcane Healing, spilled positive energy through me. I shuddered as my wounds knitted. My Hit Points rose.
Only for me to lose most of them when the hard stroke from the sword crashed into my side. The pain blossomed, but I didn't care. My allies were here. Kulri chanted. An arcane explosion burst around the Priestess and Wizard, but didn't harm Maria, sparing Kulri's party members.
“I brought them, Marcus!” Iris whooped.
“Beloved!” the Priestess shouted as Maria's new rapier struck with greater speed than she could with her old short sword. She'd gone into a DPS class, specializing in putting out more damage versus a tanking class like my own.
Dëshoma chanted another Arcane Healing while Kulri spoke the words for an Arcane Burst. The enemy mage reeled from Éjyona's gun. The warrior disengaged from me. My ax missed landing a Holy Strike, burning through the last of my Magic Points.
He charged from me.
* * / *
Dëshoma
The sight of the battle proved a shock to her, but she was ready to unleash her miracles. She gripped her bible in her hand, channeling her Faith through it. Only now she had a better understanding of the divine as a Cleric. She could apply her Intelligence to it, as well.
Dëshoma finished her Arcane Healing spell, employing that greater understanding of miracles to heal her beloved Lord Marcus at range. Her magic settled in on him just as the armored foe he fought rushed across the narrow street in a blur.
His sword slammed into Maria.
She gasped, unable to dodge out of the way. She appeared sluggish. Her armor, once fitting her with the same natural ease as Dëshoma's own habit and skirt, now weighed the human down. Maria cried out in pain, blood spurting from the wound.
“Thank you,” the feyborn Priestess said, her gray skirt swirling. Blood stained her habit. She touched herself, unleashing healing magic to heal her flesh.
Maria groaned and lunged at the Priestess with her rapier, ignoring the warrior. Marcus already raced after, his blessed ax swaying. Behind him, a halfling Gunner fired her weapon, but not at Dëshoma.
The mage reeled again.
“Deillae!” she cried out, looking to the Priestess.
As Maria's rapier lunged for the Priestess, the diamond she wore around her neck flared with bright light. A protective gem of adamant sprang around her, deflecting Maria's rapier to the side and keeping it from finding her flesh.
The Warrior slammed his sword down at Maria. Lights burst from her breastplate, splashing brilliance across his face. It didn't deter the enemy's strike. His blow slammed into her. Maria staggered back in pain.
“I have thee!” Dëshoma cried out and thrust her bible into the back of her comrade.
* * / *
Kulrigiizhai
“Let the mystical energy flow out of me and explode in an arcane bolt!” Kulrigiizhai chanted and leveled her white alder staff. The bolt of purple energy launched out from her and slammed into the enemy mage.
The three shards ripped through her flesh. The Wizard collapsed dead to the ground, her brown staff spilling from her hand and rolling across the ground. The elf turned her gaze to her companions. Healing energy rippled over Maria while the enemy Priestess, a feyborn, stood protected by her magic item's protection, her eyes wild.
“Maria!” Marcus snarled and slammed his ax into the back of the Warrior.
The blow staggered the armored enemy. He spun around, sweeping his sword in a heavy arc. Marcus blocked with his wooden shield, but the power of the blow cut through the top. The blade nicked his cheek, spurting blood.
A flutter of fear washed through the elf only to be swallowed down by her emptiness.
She shifted her focus onto the Warrior now. She clutched her staff and chanted her next Arcane Bolt, the words spilling from her lips with ease. The Warrior's sword slammed down on Marcus's shield again and again.
He was a higher level. Stronger. Marcus's wooden shield splintered beneath the blows. His ax couldn't lash out. Kulrigiizhai finished her spell. The power rushed out of her, dwindling her supply of Magic Points, and crashed into the back of the Warrior, blazing through the backplate to deal damage to the flesh beneath.
She would protect her party leader and keep that nibbling fear at bay.
The protection fell from the Priestess. She gasped and thrust her bible at the Warrior, healing him. At the same moment, crackling energy rippled around her. Maria, advancing on the Priestess, hesitated at the way the lightning danced on her skin.
“That's going to hurt me if I stab her,” groaned Maria.
“Indeed,” Kulrigiizhai noted. “She activated the ring.”
So the Duelist went for the Warrior, instead, thrusting at his back. Her rapier glanced off his armor. As Maria attacked, Kulrigiizhai's mind worked through possibilities. She had a new spell she'd gained. Not as offensive as any of her others, but the Priestess and the Warrior made a potent combination. If the feyborn could keep him alive, this battle could turn.
Kulrigiizhai had to neutralize her. I hope this works. Her high Faith will give her more Resilience.
Strength and Faith were the two stats that fed Resilience, the ability to resist status effects. It made Rogue classes the most susceptible to them and Fighter and Acolyte classes the most inclined to resist them. Marcus, taking a Faith specialization as a Paladin would grow only harder and harder to paralyze or stun or put to sleep.
“Let the dust of sleep fall upon them and usher them into sleep!” she chanted.
Her Sleep Dust spell surged out of her. Purple dust sprinkled across the Priestess's face. She inhaled it and then sneezed. Her entire body swayed. She tried to say something and then she collapsed on her side.
* * / *
Maria and I battled with the Warrior. My ax and her rapier slashed and stabbed. We had always worked well together, my first party member. I had saved her from an amorous slime that had been molesting her.
The Warrior we fought blocked and parried, thrusting and hack
ing with his sword. He was tough, possessing more defense and also hitting harder than we did. The level difference was obvious, but what else could we do? We had to keep fighting.
The enemy Priestess collapsed in a heap, a sprinkle of glowing-purple dust on her. Kulri nodded in satisfaction. Then she faced the last opponent up on the battlefield. A gunshot slammed into the Warrior, pinging off his pauldron but not hurting him.
“Let the mystical energy flow out of me and explode in an arcane bolt!” chanted Kulri. A bolt of purple struck the Warrior. He grunted and then snarled, glancing down at the priestess.
We were winning. I used the last of my TP on a Disarm. My ax struck the Warrior's fingers. A shiver quivered through the sword. It flexed. The Warrior snarled, grip shifting. He almost dropped it, but resisted the debuff.
“Damn,” I growled.
A half-second later, Maria's rapier struck from the other side, using the same ability. Her point struck the blade already quivering from my blow. The Warrior hadn't recovered his grip yet. His sword fell to the ground, clanging beside the Priestess.
“Aphounga's shattered sword!” spat the Warrior, voice choking from his helmet.
I slashed my ax and scored a biting wound in the thigh, a trickle of Hit Points flooding back into me. Maria's rapier took the Warrior in the flank a moment later, punching through the breastplate and into the enemy's liver.
We were doing it. Winning.
CRACK!
Éjyona's blunderbuss unloaded another shot, clanging off the Warrior's helm. An arcane bolt struck him. He might have levels on us, but it was one on five now. I grinned and hefted my ax for the next blow.
The Warrior's hand dove into his pouch.
“Shit, he's healing!” I growled.
But the warrior didn't pull out a vial full of Angel Passion, but instead a clay sphere. He slammed it to the ground at his feet. A thick smoke burst around us. I gasped, my eyes watering at the intensity. Coughing erupted around us. I heard movement.
“Fuck!” I swung blind, my ax whistling through the air. Then footsteps thudding. The bastard ran. Maria gasped and sounded like she fell, knocked down.