Reincarnation_RPG

by Erik Colombe

  The generals quickly left with their orders but would be back after delegating the roles John had given them. It would be a long night as they went without sleep trying to make sure whatever killed the messenger didn’t spread.

  “What did Quway mean by extinction?” Max asked.

  “Biological warfare,” John said.

  “I honestly didn’t think it was possible with the healing magic in this world. Anyone in this city has the sniffles, they just take a health potion or visit a local healer and they’re fine, but Chris didn’t only send someone to tell us that he was coming for us, for me. The cocky bastard is trying to say he has the power to kill everyone,” John said.

  “Why don’t we just send a disease after him? If he did it to us, why can’t we do it to him?” Max asked.

  “I wouldn’t know where to begin. Tom has this ever happened before?” John asked.

  “Never. Thomas never thought of using biological warfare on his enemies, and they never used it on us. I know, back in the day, there were some experts that could use poison, but nothing that was airborne, and even the greatest practitioners couldn’t do what you saw here tonight. The idea of working with something that could easily kill you if the wind shifts or a piece of glass breaks isn’t the first go-to methods when it comes to fighting.”

  “Biological warfare requires a lot of things, but the main thing is knowledge. Chris must have knowledge of biology from his previous life, and he is obviously pissed about his colleagues’ deaths. He doesn’t know our capabilities or doesn’t have the ability to mass produce or he would have sent more than one infected person. With Quway’s quick thinking, we’ll be able to ride out the worst of this, but this is Chris’s declaration of war, and we will need to respond in kind,” John said.

  The hours that passed through the night were long and tedious as John stayed in the Throne room gathering information as it came in about the disease. By morning, there was no cure, and three infected had been found. The symptoms came on so quickly that most of them didn’t have time to find anyone else to infect with the curfew that had been put in place. The best healers the city had to offer could only let the infected sleep without pain, while they continued to search for a cure. It wasn’t until the first light when everyone felt safe enough to let go of the mandatory curfew.

  “Now that the curfew has been lifted, we need to discuss what we’ve found and our options.”

  “Only Demi-Humans were infected with the disease, despite several humans in quarantine having direct contact with the infected. I believe the disease is targeted only at Demi-Humans,” Quway said.

  “We don’t have enough information to extrapolate that kind of information,” Tom said.

  “We do. My scouts have come back with a report of Chris,” Quway said.

  “You stuck scouts on Chris? I told you all to leave him alone. I didn’t want him to get a hint that I might be here,” John said, struggling not raise his voice.

  “I understand, and the scouts were left with explicit instructions not to approach him, ask anything about him, or go near him; however, he still left a trail a mile long.”

  “What kind of trail?” John asked.

  “Chris comes from KroAcea, the kingdom furthest to the West. It’s an Aristocracy where the nobles control the kingdom or that’s what it looks like on the outside. Actually, Chris controls major changes. He is always seen at important events and is held in reverence. No one addresses him or asks his opinion. It’s like they already know it, and the way the votes of the lords seem to change based on a whim can only be attributed to a hidden force within the Aristocracy. The government treats any Demi-Humans it finds as slaves or criminals. The only church in the kingdom espouses superiority of Humans over Demi-Humans and all evil in the world belonging to Demi-Humans. They say they will receive a reward from god and be free from all evil once the Demi-Human race has been expunged. A few months ago, Chris was crowned the chosen hero of the church that would kill the leader of the Demi-Humans. I can only assume, with your history, the church is referring to you. We haven’t been able to get much more information about his recent movements due to our messengers mysteriously dying, but we know he first traveled from KroAcea North to Gleydion and disappeared in the snowy tundra. When he returned, he was going South towards Aflourshia,” Quway said.

  John’s ears perked up at the names of the Kingdoms as Quway listed them. They sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place them right away.

  “One of the scouts we sent managed to send us Chris’s level before he came back. We know nothing of his skills or possible magics, only a level,” Quway said, and his voice wavered as if hearing the information for the first time.

  “What is his level?” John asked.

  “One Hundred and Twenty,” Quway said.

  John slumped down in his Throne. It was too high of a gap for him to have a chance of winning against Chris.

  Tom cleared his throat as he started to speak.

  “This brings us to the options we have discussed,” Tom said.

  “You guys have been talking about this behind my back?” John asked like a weary father to disobedient children.

  “We knew it would only upset you and decided we would feel better if we had some ideas in case the time you needed to fight Chris ever arose. Now is that time. The most practical solution would be to send an army after him. You and the generals, along with a few high leveled Demi-Humans, would strike and kill him before he could have any hope of retaliating. Except that plan went up in the air when we found out he had three other companions, each of whom we have no idea what level they are, and he has a disease that can kill Demi-Humans. That brings us to our next, less desirable, alternative. We level you up to be the same as Chris,” Tom said.

  “How would you manage that? The amount of experience I would need is ridiculous,” John asked.

  “It’s possible. The ability for leveling has a bit of glitch to it as Thomas found out. If you kill more than one opponent in a set time period, you gain a bonus. Also, if the opponent has a title, it increases the amount of experience by another bonus,” Tom said.

  “How are we going to gather opponents with titles for me to level up?” John asked.

  “We already have them,” Tom said, motioning to the three generals. “Each has already offered their lives. They will each imbibe a poison that will numb their senses. It will be quick and mostly painless, and you will probably be at the same level as Chris.”

  “Probably?” John asked.

  “It’s not an exact science, but you will be a challenge for him.”

  “No,” John said.

  “At least consider the option. All of the generals have already agreed,” Tom said.

  John looked towards Zyn and Xyla, who both nodded. Quway met John’s eyes as he spoke. “We’re not happy about it, but Chris represents our extinction. Sacrifices must be made. We just ended up as the sacrifice this time.”

  “No. If it’s an option to kill my friends or die with them, I’d rather die with them,” John said and paused, realizing he meant it. Not only that he would rather die with them, but that he saw them as friends, not just a means to allow him to get home anymore.

  “This city core used to have the power to level an army, is that right?” John asked.

  “Yes, but it’s so weak now you’d have trouble even demolishing a hill, let alone an army,” Tom said.

  “So, we charge it again, just like we did to create this city,” John said.

  “How? There’s no more Undead Collective left to hunt. It took Thomas more time than we have to fill it.”

  “We find a way. I don’t care if we have to dig a hole to the center of the damn planet to find a large enough mana supply. We will charge this thing and wait for Chris to show up. We’ll use what we’ve amassed to lower his stats, health, and level until he’s no longer a threat. Xyla and Quway, send out your scouts and search for power sources. We’ll setup a checkpoint and keep a lookout for fut
ure diseases if they come. Tom and Max will be in charge while I’m gone,” John said.

  “Where are you going?” Tom asked.

  “Like hell I will,” Max said.

  John held out his hand to silence them.

  “I will need to go where the Demi-Humans cannot. They are cold-blooded creatures and not suited for the harsher temperatures where we will need to look, and I need two people whom I can trust to stay here while I am gone. Max, part of being my retainer is doing the job while I’m away. I will trust this task to you. My only problem is time. I need to be able to cover large amounts of ground quickly,” John said.

  “Is that all?” Tom asked, placing a hand on the throne.

  An archway appeared at the end of the stairs that led up to the throne.

  “This is a teleportation door. It can bring you to any other door that is on that planet if they still exist. You just need to place a significant amount of mana into the door, and the nearest one will open,” Tom said.

  John walked down to the portal and touched the side of it. He felt the mana leave his body and saw that he was left with only a third of it. A blue liquid seeped from the top of the arch and fell to the floor. The mana rippled like water until an image of a place John recognized showed.

  “Good. Make your arrangements. I leave tomorrow.”

  Chapter 10

  John walked over to the center of an ancient and decrepit stone courtyard. The marble pillars that once stood tall like soldiers had fallen and lay strewn across the cracked marble floor. Age had weathered their once intricate carvings and paintings, leaving them stripped of their duty as they stood naked to the sun. John found a toppled pillar on the edge of the temple and took a seat on it. His hands brushed his pocket, feeling an old ratty book there. He looked out over the beach to the cresting waves and enjoyed the smell of sea water. He had never been to the ocean in his previous life, and he decided he would enjoy the view of distant boats fishing in the early morning, the red, purple hue of the sun rising through the clouds, and the smell of sea salt in the air while he waited for Chris.

  No one knew he was here; no one knew the plan he had put into place the moment he understood what Chris was doing. The directions and the cities sparked John’s memory. Chris was playing the game, the one John had played when he had died. Chris was reenacting it the best he could, and John knew this was the next stop, to get a boat and use it to sail to the next temple. If he waited, Chris would come.

  “Hey boy, don’t you know it’s bad luck to be there,” a voice said behind John.

  John jumped out of his seat and looked around. An old man covered in fishing gear was standing at the edge of the temple staring at him.

  “It’s ok. I’m waiting for someone,” John said.

  The old fisherman set down his gear and jumped feebly up to the temple. The platform was five feet about the beach sand, and John rushed over to help the man up before he hurt himself. The man looked even older the closer you got to him. The wrinkles that lined his face were a testament of how much time he must have spent outside in the aging sun.

  “Thanks for the help there, youngin. Now, what is so important you’re risking cursing yourself with the temple’s ire? Come on, let’s go down the way, and you can listen to this old man tell you a tale or two,” he said, tugging at John’s arm. John didn’t budge.

  “Thank you, but I’m meeting a friend here,” John said.

  “Anyone meeting you here ain’t no friend. Like I said, this place is cursed; everyone round ‘ere knows it,” the old man said sternly.

  “There isn’t any kind of curse that is worse than meeting this person. Trust me, I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me,” John said.

  “It’s only natural to worry about a fool. What’s got you so shook up, youngin? You gonna start a fight?” the old man said, looking into John’s eyes disapprovingly.

  “No sir, no fighting, not if I can help it.”

  “Well, tell me what’s going to happen when your friend gets here. Maybe this old man can help you sort your words,” the fisherman said while taking a seat where John had been sitting.

  “It’s nothing major. Really, I don’t want to keep you,” John said, trying to get rid of the old man.

  This is why you’re supposed to have a reputation. I bet if Thomas walked around back in the day, people cleared the way. John thought to himself.

  “I have seven children and twenty grandchildren child, and one thing I will tell you right now is that everything is important to them, doesn’t matter what the rest of the word thinks,” he said, making a beckoning hand gesture for John to hurry up and talk.

  “Let’s just say that I’m meeting someone here that I would rather not talk to,” John said.

  “So, don’t talk to them. Problem solved.”

  “I wish it was that easy. This person had some bad friends who I dealt with.”

  “Ah, I understand, I understand. This person has a striking stick with your name on it. Still sounds like you’re looking for a fight.”

  “I’m hoping for a conversation.”

  “What can you possibly say? I know, if someone hurt my friends, I wouldn’t listen for all the fish in the sea.”

  “I’m going to give a peace offering. We’ll see if he takes it. That’s all that I can hope for,” John said.

  “That seems like a lot more work that just fighting it out. Back when I was young, we would of just scrapped until it was nightfall. Last one standing was the winner.”

  “I’ve thought about it. I have some friends who would prefer it, but if my friends join, they’re going to get more than a few bruises. No, if he doesn’t listen, I will find a way to make him listen. I’m not going to let someone hurt my friends.”

  “Well, if the kid doesn’t listen to reason, feel free to come get me. I’ll help the youngin see reason,” the old man said as he walked with John over to the edge of the temple, and John helped him down to get his fishing gear.

  John sat back down and went back to enjoying the sunset. Periodically, he checked over his shoulder until he saw a group of four people walking next to each other coming over the horizon. As they came closer, John could see they were the people he was waiting for.

  One of the men was short and squat, who looked like he lived at the gym. He carried a large steel maul on his back. His meaty hands looked like they could swing it with deadly efficiency. Another was tall and lanky. He held a spear in one hand that he used like a staff. His arms seemed too long for his body as he took half-steps to avoid travelling too far away from the group. There was a woman with them, who was wearing what looked almost like a white night gown that was thin and revealing. Its trail moved when there was no wind. The last man had the look of a main character and must be Chris, John thought. Short blonde hair and wearing a leather jacket with only one sleeve. His shirt seemed like a collection of chains, armor parts, and leather, an amalgamation of cliché RPG hero troupes.

  When they reached the platform, John wondered what he should say, but was interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “John? What are you doing here?” the woman in the group asked.

  John looked her over more closely, but he had never met someone like her before. Until he noticed her blue eyes and red freckles.

  “Saarka? What the hell are you doing here with Chris?”

  “After you left us from the attack with Ryan, a real hero showed up. He brought Clem and B’narld back to life, and I begged him to let me join him.”

  “Why do you look so different, and are those two supposed to be Clem and B’narld? What the hell happened to them?”

  Chris spoke up. His voice was a low condescending tone that made John want to punch his face the moment he heard it.

  “Come on, John, isn’t it obvious? I’ve leveled them up. After you removed Mike and Ryan from my roster, I needed to find some new loyal recruits to do the grunt work. Fixing the world involves touching a lot of filth and a lot of time. Everyone needs a few he
lping hands, and luckily, you left me a few volunteers in your wake.”

  John used his analyze skill on all of them

  Name: Clemabauld Fogtem

  Level: 98

  Magic: _)(&*!

  Class: 4um&n/Advent(&*!@

  No Data, Corrupted

  Name: B’narld Farhorn

  Level: 97

  Magic: &^%$

  Class: 4um&n/Advent(&*!@

  No Data, Corrupted

  Name: Saarka

  Level: 88

  Magic: Ukn0ow4n

  No Data, Corrupted

  Name: Chris Benton

  Level: 122

  Magic: Cellular manipulation

  Class: Human/Hero

  John stepped back, confused. The analytics skill was giving error messages, like it couldn’t read Chris’s three companions.

  “What did you do to them?” John asked Chris.

  “I made them better. You see, this world is like a paradise, and we are its kings. Before I came here, I knew a bit about biology. It was actually going to be my doctorate, but the magic that this world has lets me change the molecular level of anything I touch. It’s amazing. I can even bring people back from the dead. Isn’t it amazing?”

  “No, it’s horrible. You’ve completely changed who they used to be. Are they even human anymore? Are you even happy?” John asked, turning to Clem and B’narld.

  Both stared unblinkingly at John.

  “Ok, so it’s not perfect, not yet, but I did bring them back to life. Unfortunately, I got there too late, and most of their brain was damaged beyond repair due to oxygen deprivation, so they’re more like golems; however, they can still fight, and you would be sorry if you found yourself in a battle with them but forget about them. Look at Saarka, here,” Chris said grabbing Saarka by the waist and pulling her forward into him. He twirled her around like a doll and finished with a flourish of his hand like he was showing off his best work.