Limitless Lands Book 3: Retribution (A LitRPG Adventure)

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Limitless Lands Book 3: Retribution (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 20

by Dean Henegar


  Bloody Brutes upgrade selected.

  Unconventional Tactics upgrade selected.

  For my class skill, I decided to go with Unconventional Tactics, excited to see new options it may open. The additional chance to hit an enemy and small damage bonus from the +1 attack would also come in handy. My already unlocked abilities had also grown in power: increased radius/time for Incite, as well as more goons and time added to Goon Squad. After leveling, I felt a familiar presence worm its way back into my thoughts.

  “I see you are growing in power once again, Raytak. I have also grown and now give you more power. Rise quickly that I may continue to thrive,” Tessel said into my mind. The presence faded and a system prompt let me know that Tessel had indeed leveled up . . . improving her promise.

  Tessel’s Promise: Your bond with the corrupted dryad Tessel has been improved. +2 attack, +2 defense, +2 resistance to poison/disease, -50 health. 1/day ranged, spreading corruption attack.

  New ability Unlocked: Summon Corrupted Wolf. 1/day the wearer can summon a Level 10 corrupted wolf to defend them. The creature will attack any foes and will follow simple commands of the wearer. The corrupted wolf will last for 5 minutes or until killed. The level of the wolf is dependent on Tessel’s level (currently level 10).

  Tessel had hit level 10 and her promise had come through again. The improved stat bonuses were a huge increase at my level. The wolf would be a game-changing ability against foes of a similar level and the five-minute duration was long compared to the other summons I had seen. I had to think the spreading corruption attack would increase in damage as well, though the description never mentioned exact numbers. I had heard that level 10 was a big power upgrade, and after seeing Tessel’s improvements I had to agree. Thankfully, the item scaled with her level and not my own. I almost felt sorry for her being saddled with whatever weak effects came from my side of the bargain, since I was only level 5.

  The caravan didn’t halt until evening, Septimus wisely deciding to put as much distance between us and the Ssarn as possible. When we did stop, I had the men turn in their weapons as agreed. When Galba unlocked the wagon where the weapons were stored, I was greeted with a wagon stuffed to the gills with weapons and armor. An additional wagon had also been assigned to store weapons and gear; like the first, it was full.

  Galba noticed my surprised smile. “Thought you would like that. The men found all the gladiator gear that Lucius had brought to equip his fighters. They also grabbed every piece of armor and every weapon not nailed down and threw them into the wagons. I’m not sure what all we have, but it should give you more options in the next fights,” Galba advised.

  “Speaking of that, Galba, are we going to get a chance to recruit some of the new prisoners? Many of them may want to take the chance to compete and earn their freedom. I also can command a larger force now, which should give us the chance for bigger and better fights,” I offered, baiting the man.

  “Yep, that’s what Septimus ordered. While we feed everyone, you can look at what’s available.”

  Some of the new prisoners were pretty run down from their short captivity, but they would heal up nicely during the trip. My men helped set up the camp. There were several new tents among the supplies pillaged from the Ssarn, enough to house everyone now. The food supply was much improved, too; no secretly rotting food in the barrels and there was a bit more variety. There was a brief shout of disgust as Galba found a few of the barrels held jerky made from human and orc flesh. Those were tossed out, but what remained would see us to Shraza and beyond.

  While everyone ate, I made my way around the camp, talking to the new prisoners as well as a few of the previous ones who I thought might show promise. I wasn’t surprised when we had more than enough volunteers to fill our ranks. The prisoners had all heard of our fights by now and wanted in on the chance to free themselves early, despite the danger. One prisoner was able to upgrade to the advanced infiltrator class, and three fit into a newly unlocked advanced class.

  Sagittarii: The sagittarii are auxiliary missile troops hired to fight with the legion. These specialized troops are experts at all missile weapons and excel at whittling down enemy forces or engaging dangerous foes from a distance. They have the higher health of an advanced soldier but the attack bonus of a standard soldier when in melee. Sagittarii receive a +1 bonus to ranged attacks for every 3 levels and may unlock special abilities as the commander levels.

  The archers would be a welcome addition. My forces had always suffered in ranged combat unless they were accompanied by the scouts. Long range fire from the archers, followed by volleys of javelins from the main line would be devastating to our foes. I incorporated the new soldiers into our training regimen. Galba gave us a free hand on how much training we did, so long as it didn’t slow down the caravan.

  The next morning found me huffing and puffing alongside the wagons as I ran with the men to build our endurance. I would run with half the men for an hour and then Wrend would take over with the other half. Galba grinned as he noticed my discomfort on one pass around the slowly moving wagons.

  “Hey Raytak, enjoying your run this morning? I think about half the new recruits are ready to die. Looks like they’re regretting their decision to join you about now. Why do you guys torture yourselves?” Galba laughed as he asked, covered from the blistering heat of the day by a tarp strung over him and the driver of the wagon. The guard captain had been much friendlier since the fight with the Ssarn, giving the soldier prisoners more freedoms than before.

  “Why do we run men?” I shouted, knowing that even in the short time they had been enlisted, the AI would fill them in with basic military knowledge and traditions.

  “We run to sweat. The more we sweat the less we bleed, sir!” they stammered out between panting.

  “Hah, looks like you’ve got them converted to your soldier way of thinking already, Raytak,” Galba added. Just as the npc finished saying that, a prompt appeared.

  You have earned the trait Physically Fit: You and the soldiers in your command stick to a strict physical fitness regimen. You receive the following bonus.

  Standard Soldiers: +5 bonus to health per level, retroactive.

  Advanced Soldiers: +10 bonus to health per level, retroactive.

  Elite Soldiers: +25 bonus to health per level, retroactive.

  Commander: +25 bonus to health per level, retroactive.

  Should you fail to train for a period of more than one week, you will lose this bonus until you once again train hard enough to reach the same level of fitness.

  Part of the reason I had been working the new men so hard was to see if I could get the upgrade for Physically Fit to pop for us. Our forces were even more durable now. As I passed the opulent wagon of Septimus, the lanista called out.

  “Commander Raytak, come here for a moment please,” Septimus said, his voice dripping in fake kindness. I slowed to a fast walk, keeping pace with the slow-moving caravan.

  “Good to see you and the other gladiators training so hard. This next event will be our true test. What I didn’t mention earlier is that the games at Shraza are a preliminary event for the Grand Melee at the capitol! Should we win in our category here, you will have your chance to fight in front of the emperor himself,” Septimus said before taking a swig from his wine skin.

  “As you may know, the Grand Melee is the event designed for larger groups of fighters working together. I wanted to see how you were feeling about the new recruits before I committed too much coin to my wagers,” Septimus said, waiting impatiently for my reply.

  “The new soldiers are working out well enough. Nothing has changed on my end. Provided you give us decent gear, we’ll crush any similar group that stands against us,” I said confidently

  Septimus clapped as he heard my words. “Very encouraging, Raytak. I may even let you have a bit more input on the gear for your men when we arrive in town. I’ll tell Galba to take you on a shopping trip. You may trade any of the gear we already have
to help equip your men. I’ll also throw in some of the coin we found when clearing out Lucius’ wagon. Now, toddle off and keep training.” Septimus dismissed me with a wave and I continued to train. The run passed quickly as I thought of various ways to inflict harm on Septimus. All in all, I was pleased with the performance of my soldiers, yet I was becoming concerned about the machinations of our captor.

  Chapter 19

  After only a few days’ time, the terrain became more habitable. The sand was replaced with dry grasses and even a few trees. The trail eventually followed alongside a small river that flowed into Shraza. Being that this part of the empire was so arid, all towns were located near a clean water source. We also passed a few farms, the hardy people trying to eke out a living under the unforgiving sun of this region. The farmers paid us no mind at all, save to keep an eye on us to make sure we weren’t going to make a go at taking crops or livestock from them.

  Then the town of Shraza appeared before us. The place was triple the size of Asif’s place and looked to be in better repair. An adobe-style wall surrounded the town, and the guards at the gate stopped us briefly to check that we were expected. The guards were well equipped and all level 10 or higher; effective enough to fight off most threats found in the zone, I imagined. We made our way through narrow streets until we reached a huge open area filled with other wagons. Galba was summoned up to the lead wagon and then was promptly sent back to gather me. Running to the front of the wagons, Septimus waited for us in a set of splendid robes that had to have cost him a fair pile of coins.

  “Ah, there you are, Raytak. I would like you to accompany me to register for the melee. They often will rank opponents based on their first impression. We want to appear a strong group, but not too strong. Positioning is everything in these types of matches. The strongest are often paired up together, but the weakest groups are usually given a starting challenge to overcome in order to show they’re worthy to compete. There are no reinforcements allowed in the tournament, so we want to avoid a challenge match in order to preserve our numbers. Now, hustle off and get dressed. Galba, unlock the weapons wagon and get Raytak geared up.”

  Galba unlocked the weapons wagon, I took stock of my options, selecting the best gladius style sword we had as well as some surprisingly nice leather armor. I looked like a soldier once again in this garb. The armor even had bronze rivets set into it to help protect against slashing attacks. The set included a breastplate, leg guards, and sturdy boots; finally, some good footwear.

  Standard Bronze Short-sword, item-level 30.

  Standard Imperium Studded Leather Armor Set. Defense +12

  Standard Imperium Wooden Shield. Defense +3, additional +1 vs. ranged attacks.

  Standard Bronze Dagger, item-level 30.

  Septimus examined me with a critical eye as I approached.

  “Hmm, looks fine. Not too strong and not too weak. Very well, follow along, Raytak.” Galba and another guard accompanied the two of us toward the large arena. The town arena was made of stone and had a diameter of over 200 yards . . . much bigger than Asif’s rickety structure. Galba informed me that the arena in the capitol was even larger and could seat hundreds of thousands of spectators. The guards at the entrance checked Septimus’ credentials and then we were all ushered into a small office.

  A little man in stained robes peered at us through a pair of spectacles placed precariously on the end of his nose. He looked like he had swallowed a lemon once he saw Septimus. A burly half-orc guard in chain armor stood to the side of the little man, a pair of sharp battle axes strapped to his belt.

  “Just who said you would be allowed to participate in the Grand Melee? The dregs you bring wouldn’t last a minute against even the weakest team. There are already four solid competitors that have made the cut and we have no need for sword chaff here, Septimus. We only accept full teams of warriors,” the little man said with disdain.

  “Not to worry, Parkins, we brought the good Gladiator Captain Raytak and his band of repentant soldiers. They seek to redeem themselves in glorious combat and will best any foe set against them,” Septimus said with a flourish. The clerk was not convinced and the burly guard next to him chuckled.

  “The guests don’t want to watch some disgraced officer fight in the melee. You heard Parkins. Get out or I’ll throw you out, traitor,” the burly guard added, hate sizzling in his gaze. I examined the guard’s information, surprised to find that he had a multi-class, which had been unusual so far.

  Kreston, Level 4 Soldier/Level 3 Bodyguard. Npc.

  “Is there some problem you have with me, Kreston?” I asked, my voice stone cold as my anger grew. I was tired of being called traitor.

  “Yes, I hate traitorous scum, and traitorous-scum officers even more. You pampered weaklings can’t do anything on your own,” Kreston continued. The guy seemed like a former soldier and he may have had a beef with officers, which was becoming a pattern among people I met. My class details were visible, and Kreston must have seen the Disgraced Commander class tab. We weren’t getting anywhere with the clerk, but I had an idea on what to do next to secure our place in the melee.

  “I think you’re mistaken, friend. I’m not a weakling, and I could take you any day, one on one. As a matter of fact, sir,” I said respectfully to Parkins, “why don’t we consider a fight between myself and Kreston here as our starting challenge?” I offered, hoping the two would take the bait. Kreston smiled and looked over at Parkins. Parkins grinned; I think he found the possibility amusing.

  “If you feel like going to an early grave, so be it. Should you beat Kreston, I will allow your team to fight without any other preliminary bouts. Follow us to the arena floor,” Parkins said, confident in his bodyguard and knowing there was a two-level difference between myself and Kreston. As an organizer for the tournaments, he would also know that the strength of a leadership class was usually found in the troops they commanded, not in their individual combat prowess. What I was counting on, and what both Parkins and Kreston didn’t know, was that I had Tessel’s promise and my abilities were all off cooldown.

  Parkins led us down a dimly lit corridor that sloped down toward the arena, ending at a stoutly-barred door. Kreston lifted the bar and opened the squeaking door, revealing a large barracks-like room. The room had rows of empty weapons racks and storage boxes. There were also a half dozen tables with ample supplies of bandages and disinfectants.

  “These are the preparation rooms a force would use before exiting to the arena itself. The room is equipped with basic first aid supplies as healing and mana potions are forbidden in the games. Of course, Kreston here is going to make sure your group doesn’t make it far enough to use one of these rooms,” Parkins said, giving good information despite also adding taunts.

  “Does the Grand Melee usually consist of one fight or are there multiple?” I asked.

  “It depends on many factors and is different every time to make it so one group does not have an advantage . . . without paying for one that is,” Parkins added, not so subtly reminding us that advantages could be purchased with the correct bribes. Septimus picked up on the possibilities quickly, shooting me a questioning glance. I nodded to him with a sly smile as we crossed the large room.

  “My dear friend Parkins, how about a little side wager for the duel? I will wager this bag of coin against you providing us two advantages and two disadvantages in the coming matches. I know you believe my man here will lose, so what’s the harm?” Septimus asked. Parkins stopped for a moment and considered the offer.

  “I may be amenable to a small wager. Based on the heft of that bag of coin, the most I would offer would be one small advantage if your man wins,” Parkins replied, the negotiations commencing.

  “I can respect a man who negotiates, Parkins, but one small advantage is insulting,” Septimus replied before placing his hand on his chin in mock contemplation. “Perhaps I was a bit greedy, say I amend my offer to two advantages for my team and one disadvantage to an opponent of
my choice, deal?” Septimus countered.

  “The absolute best I can do is one advantage and one disadvantage. That’s doing you a favor, as the paltry bag of coin you are offering would barely buy you one small advantage in most matches,” Parkins said.

  “I think we have a deal. One advantage of my choice and one disadvantage to an opponent of my choice, deal?” Septimus asked, giving his final offer while he bounced the pouch of coin in his hand to entice Parkins.

  “Normally I’d say no, but since your man here is going to die in a few moments and I have no chance at loss . . . deal.” With that, the two shook hands and I assumed the AI bound them to the contract. With the side business concluded, we were led to the large double doors at the end of the room. With a shove, Kreston pushed one of the doors open to reveal a small passage leading up into the arena. We walked up the passage and I was glad to see the sand here was firm and easy to walk on, unlike the pits of the Ssarn. The arena was the largest I had seen so far, the area specifically designed for large battles.

  There were several teams of workers performing various tasks to ready the arena for the upcoming games. Temporary walls were test fitted in their places; they looked like they were designed to funnel attackers to different areas of the open arena. The small five-foot-tall portable wall sections were ten feet in length and could be mounted firmly to the arena floor in minutes.

  Parkins appeared to have quite a few devious tricks in store for teams that didn’t pay for advantages. As we walked toward the middle of the arena, I noticed traps of spike grids being installed. The grids were simple: a wooden frame with iron spikes driven through that would pierce the foot of anyone foolish enough to step on them. The spikes were covered in loose sand, making them difficult to see but not impossible. In the coming battle, we would be able to avoid them if we were observant.

 

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