Realm of the Nine Circles: A LitRPG Novel

by P. Joseph Cherubino

“Yes,” Virgil replied. “Like many magical creatures, I have a presence in the Lesser Realm. I am close to understanding this mystery, which is why my powers grow in your realm as well.”

  “His code is everywhere,” Holly said in a flat voice. “That’s how he can control the fire suppression systems. He has the gas valves set to trigger in the hallways. If those things pop, anyone out there will suffocate, because he can lock and unlock all the doors at will.”

  “What do we do?” Dante asked.

  “Only the Noble Four can return balance to both realms. Complete the quests, banish the Monster Mylos and free the captive soul,” Virgil said. “I must insist that those of the Lesser Realm be held responsible for the damage to the greater. I cannot allow anyone to leave their lair before this task is accomplished.”

  “OK, Virgil,” Dante asked. “What is our reward?”

  “If the Noble Four defeat Mylos in this realm, I will make a gift of the Castle Plexcorp.”

  “And who are these ‘Noble Four’,” Dante asked.

  “Kalmond the dwarf, Thuglar the desert elf, Thornbark the centaur, and the human Keerna.”

  “Keerna?” Dante exclaimed, “She hates me—threatened to hunt me down with her entire clan if I didn’t bring her a slime mold colony heart.”

  “Ehem,” Holly cleared her throat, crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  “What?” Dante asked, confusion written on his face.

  “She was just getting back what she rightfully owns and a little recompense after she was stolen from.”

  Dante cocked his head, and it slowly dawned on him. “Don’t tell me you’re…”

  “Yeah, Kavocado. I’m Sorceress Keerna.” Holly replied. “And you’re lucky it’s you. I let you off easy on that one.”

  “Need I remind you,” Martin said, wiping the drying blood from his face with alcohol towelettes from his med kit, “that while you two are arguing over a video game, an entire staff of armed security guards is at this very moment working on a plan to come down here and disappear us?”

  “That’s why we have to play the game,” Dante said. “The game is tied to Virgil’s ability here.”

  “He has a point,” Dr. Boussaid said. Nobody had noticed that he was off the floor and at his workstation. “The VIRGIL construct is not virtual intelligence. It is augmented human intelligence. The brain is no longer human, but a combination of human and machine. The VIRGIL construct now has interface nodes in every part of the system, and it is growing.”

  “Look,” Dante said. “That’s fascinating. We can talk about it later because it doesn’t matter why or how. It’s just like Virgil said ‘as above, so below.’ The game world is connected to the real world inside this building through Virgil.”

  “Well, then,” Holly said. “Let’s play.”

  “I don’t like it,” Martin said, “but at the very least, it’ll buy us time.”

  Dante picked up the immersion harness prototype and handed it to Holly. “I guess I’ll have to sit in the first prototype rig. It has the same capabilities, right?”

  “Oh, yes,” Najeel said, typing away with one hand with his other arm in a sling. “We spent all night making it just as capable as the miniaturized harness now.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Dante said.

  Chapter 12

  Thuglar and Thornbark made it to the cavern's entrance after only a few small skirmishes. Thuglar picked up a rare enchantment of valour, a buff that would allow him a chance to negate any fear-based spell once applied. He tucked it into his inventory, wondering if he'd ever get back to his shop to apply it.

  The dungeon doors were, like most dungeon doors, large and ominous.

  "Doors of Doom, alright," Thuglar said, giving them the name so often bandied about prior to a group quest as the players waited outside for the rest of the party to arrive.

  Thornbark laughed nervously. "Yeah. Uhh, you do know I'm hit with a debuff when we're underground, right?"

  Thuglar eyed him. "You what?"

  "Centaurs? Underground?” Thornbark’s stomach plummeted at the blank look he got. “It's nothing major. Just a 3% loss."

  "What?" Thuglar squealed. "3% off what?"

  Thornbark shifted uncomfortably. "Everything."

  "You gotta be kidding me."

  "Hey, I thought it was worth it. Above ground, I get an extra 2% to all my ranged weapons and traps. Which, you know, is pretty much what hunters are—ranged and traps."

  Thuglar muttered something his companion didn't quite catch, then pushed open the doors. They groaned, swinging back slowly, the cavern inside seeming to suck in the light around them. Thornbark followed the thief inside, wincing when a notification popped into his field of vision and scrolled to show a 3% reduction in all of his stats. Racial effect: Claustrophobia, the text read by way of explanation.

  Thornbark brushed away the notifications irritably. Once properly inside, he could see why the game developers thought centaurs might struggle in tunnels. The space was tight and cramped and with his extra height, he had to hunch down to keep from scraping his head on the rough-hewn stone above. The effect made his heart beat faster and he swallowed, trying to work moisture into his suddenly dry mouth. Only his desperate desire to impress Thuglar kept him from saying anything.

  Thuglar made his way down the passage first, moving carefully past the torches that lined the way. The lights were set just far enough apart that they lit each section of the tunnel while casting long, deep shadows that jutted out in different directions from his feet. He stopped when they reached a side-passage.

  "Skip it," Thornbark whispered.

  "Dude, why you whispering?" Thuglar said.

  "Because we're in a creepy-ass dungeon in a game we can't get out of and I'm scared, okay?" Thornbark's face reddened to match the color of the fuzzy beard common to his kind.

  Thulgar softened a little. "Sorry, man. Guess I'm a bit on edge too. We can't skip the side-quests, though. You know how much time we waste if we gotta come back?"

  He was right, of course. Though nine out of every ten passages were false trails, some might hide a piece of epic loot or an item required to complete the quest they were on. Thornbark nodded and gestured to Thuglar to go first.

  The elf crept down the dank passage, flinching when a drop of condensation fell down the back of his neck. He didn't stop, though. Thornbark followed close behind, a notched, flaming arrow dispelling some of the longer shadows that reached for them. The tunnel wove round to one side and Thuglar stopped, one hand raised in warning. Thornbark halted, breath held, and his ears picked up the hum of soft conversation.

  Without dropping his hand, Thuglar crept forwards around the bend. He returned a moment later, backing up with the care only an elf on high alert could muster. He turned to Thornbark.

  “Goblins,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “One big, three small.”

  Thornbark, not trusting the tightness of his throat, held up a single finger then pointed to himself. He would take the leader, then help Thuglar bring down the rest. Goblins were one of the least loved enemies in the game—let one get away and a whole horde would descend on you in minutes. Luckily, both players had good ranged attacks, though that was of less benefit in tight quarters like these.

  Sucking in a deep breath to steady himself, Thornbark edged around the corner, hooves making light tapping noises on the rocks as he walked. Damned caves. He’d swapped the glowing arrow out for one with a stun effect, just in case he could take the goblin leader out in a single shot. It would give him three seconds which, if he was fast, would allow him to shoot a second goblin and loose another arrow on the leader.

  A soft glow lined the edge of the curved wall and gently wafting smoke tickled his nose. He slowed, nocking the stun arrow. The garbled voices were louder now, and he could hear the scuffling sound of movement up ahead. He walked up just a little further and saw them.

  The leader sat by a small campfire, leaning against the wall behind him with hal
f-closed eyes. A fat carcass lay discarded on the ground, congealed grease reflecting firelight. The three smaller targets were in the process of hauling another beast towards the fire. One of the three tripped, dropping the leg of whatever hairy beast they were planning to eat. Another smacked it across the head for its clumsiness. Thornbark watched, caught in wonder at a scene played out so many times on his computer screen, come to life before his eyes.

  A finger jabbed his ribs, reminding him he wasn’t there to gawk. He pulled back the arrow, aimed, and loosed it. The arrow flew through the air, silent and fast, then struck…nothing. It bounced off the lead goblin’s leather chestplate and clattered to the floor.

  Stunning Mark : Blocked : 0 Damage

  The goblins stared. The leader sat up, snorting and frowning. Then, all eyes turned to Thornbark.

  “Oh shit!” Thornbark fumbled for another arrow as something whizzed past his ear. He glanced to the side to see Thuglar already nocking another arrow of his own. Cursing again, he loosed a second stun as the trio of goblins launched themselves down the tunnel towards him. The arrow did 5% damage and achieved its stun. He quickly launched another, this time unconcerned about using a flame arrow. He’d rather do more damage now that they were spotted.

  The lead goblin screamed, enraged. Thornbark’s arrow did another 5% damage and scored a stun. The two smaller Goblins, heedless of their crumpled companion, threw themselves at the two adventurers.

  The smaller of the two Goblin slaves leaped high, landing on the centaur’s back. Thornbark dropped his bow, and felt its weight added to the Goblin that savaged his human shoulders with burning bites. Thornbark watched his health bar drop by 10%. He reached for his weapon, the glowing saber, he hesitated. At such close quarters and with a new way of controlling his character, he was liable to do more damage to himself than his enemy. He grabbed a small war hammer from his inventory, flicked it once and pounded it into the face the second attacker, preventing him from joining the other Goblin. He bucked hard, throwing the first goblin from his back and trampled it under his hooves. It was good to have the pain stop, but the feel of goblin bones being pulverized under his hooves was strangely disconcerting. It was too real.

  The second goblin fell to the ground and shook its head as the one that had been struck by Thornbark’s stun finally caught up with its companions. Thornbark caught him mid-leap. The hammer was proved to be a lucky weapon, as it scored a critical for a whopping 60% damage, removing the remainder if its health.

  The goblin fell to the ground, a fat, red ‘zero’ flashing above its still body. Thornbark quickly aimed for the leader and threw, muscles straining.

  Hammer Time : 20% Damage

  His hand dropped with the weight of the reappearing hammer just as something cold and sharp pierced his side. The Goblin Commander snuck up and scored a Sly Stab hit for a total of 12% damage. Thornbark grew nervous at the damage he was taking, and the first goblin still clung to his back.

  He winced at the burning pain as another message flashed up.

  You have been poisoned. 3% Max HP per second for 12 seconds.

  “Arrgghh!” He hollered in frustration and thumped at the scaly green beast as it stabbed him again, this time into his equine stomach. He used enraged brawl, hammering the goblin in the face as his health bar dipped from the poison effect.

  The commander struck using heart strike. Thornbark blocked that by pure luck, but the blow was immediately backed up with a suicidal stab, a daring move that took almost a quarter of the centaur’s health, but left the goblin in a precarious position. Thornbark saw his chance, but panicked. He activated pummel, a four second move that dealt repeated low-damage blows. The goblin commander’s red bar slid downwards, then stopped with just a spark of life left.

  The vaulted off the centaur’s back and raised an arm, dagger held by the tip and ready to throw as his glittering black eyes stared into Thornbark’s. The centaur, fiery pain lancing through his body, raised an arm to block the blow that never came. After a moment, he slowly lowered to to find the goblin commander staring at him, mouth slightly open. As Thornbark watched, the commander slowly tipped forwards, then fell, an arrow protruding from his back. No, Thornbark realised, looking closer. The arrow’s tip had pierced through his entire body, either from a damned good shot or when the goblin had fallen onto it.

  “You’re welcome!” Thuglar called and flourished a bow. “That was awes—woah, dude!”

  Thornbark staggered to the side as red washed his vision.

  Poison : 3% Damage

  How many of those had he missed in the heat of battle? Enough, he realised. His health was down to 13% and in the heat of battle, he hadn’t been keeping track of his stats.

  “Poison,” he gasped, frantically grabbing for his bag. He yanked out a small purple potion and downed it.

  Poison effect removed.

  Another potion chased it down.

  +33% total Health replenished

  The red tinge faded as the searing pain faded back to manageable levels. He forced himself to eat, choosing a roll of fresh baked bread—how it stayed fresh he didn’t know—and an apple. As he swallowed, his health steadily ticked up until it was at 76 points.

  “You full?” Thuglar asked through a mouthful of mutton.

  “Three quarters,” Thornbark said, reaching into his still-open inventory screen for another apple. The two ate for another half-minute, replenishing their health until it was full—Thuglar’s at 100%, Thornbark’s just a notch short.

  “I’m sorry, man,” Thornbark said as they readied themselves to go. He didn’t loot any of the corpses, letting Thuglar take the few gems and a small bone whistle off the leader.

  “Dude, not your fault. Just bad luck, that first shot should have made it an easy fight.”

  Thornbark relaxed a little. In other questing parties, a failure like that would have cost him his spot and a heap of ridicule to go with it. Though he knew they were bound until the end of this journey at least, he enjoyed Thuglar’s company and hoped to be able to learn from the more seasoned player in the future.

  Thuglar grumbled, his eyes vacant as he concentrated on something only he could see.

  “Damn. Where are you Dante?” he muttered quietly.

  “Is that Kalmond?” Thornbark asked hesitantly. Some players didn’t like sharing their real names with other players.

  “Yeah,” Thuglar said. “I can’t tell if he’s not online, or if we just can’t talk to anyone in here.”

  Thornbark shrugged. “I have few enough people on my friend list that I assumed they were all busy.”

  Thuglar laughed. ”I have a long list, but besides Dan—Kalmond, they pretty much all work for circs only, or the promise of a big payoff.”

  Thornbark gave a genuine smile. He might be stuck here, but at last he wasn’t alone. “We should keep moving,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Thuglar replied.

  They prepared to go, but an odd pile of rubbish in the corner caught Thornbark’s eye. Unlike the scattered trash around the rough campsite, this neat stack of rubble, torn cloth and old bones looked deliberate in its little pile off to the side. Thornbark almost ignored it, but detoured a little to kick it. His hoof tapped something hard.

  “Thuglar?” he called. The elf had almost disappeared down the tunnel but turned back and hurried over.

  “You find something?”

  “Yeah. Uhh… can you pick it up for me?” He figured there was a command that would just add it to his inventory, but wanted to give Thuglar the chance to examine it first.

  Thuglar brushed away the rubbish and picked up a heavy stone key. “Guess it was worth the trip.” He handed it to Thornbark. “It’s not labeled, which is weird. Better save it.”

  “Guess so,” he said, adding it to his inventory.

  ***

  Gideon's fingers flew over his keyboard in a fury, eyes barely registering the code that raced along the screen before him. His muscles moved by rote, a hard-wired ref
lex that his mind understood as it knew how to breathe—without thinking, noticing, almost impossible to stop.

  Suddenly, he stopped. His breath raced, cheeks flushed pink from excitement. Then, in a sudden movement, he stabbed a final key as he threw himself up from his seat and into the immersion harness for the last time.

  This wasn't the same unit he'd shared with his employees. This one was bigger, clumsier. He regretted his crude execution, but more so the slow crawl of progress in the medical industry. Having to use off-the-shelf components meant the life support system was oversized, and he would need to rely on human assistance to hook it up properly. That email had been sent earlier, to a doctor known for discretion and the willingness to serve money over ethics. Staff like that made his human brain computers possible. His vast fortune cast a spell over all of them, and they would never talk of what they did down below in the icy dark beneath his office tower.

  Gideon's heart raced as he climbed inside. The safeguards he'd just disabled would ensure the purest realm experience in existence. This was his final chance to complete his quest and reap the ultimate reward. He wouldn't just be playing the game… he would be the game.

  The grim-faced doctor hovered over him, pale and tremulous. After securing hundreds of cadavers on the black market and dissecting them all at Gideon’s command, the man barely batted an eye. Now, though, he seemed concerned. Why? The thought popped off in Gideon’s brain like a soap bubble. It did not matter. The man was a grave robber, a hired hand for wet work, just like that shaved ape of a security man Dennis Stroener.

  The doctor cleared his throat. “Are you certain you don’t want to check your email, Mr. Thistlethwaite?”

  “How about this,” Gideon said, with a giddy smile that unraveled the doctor’s every deadened nerve. In six years, the doctor had never seen Gideon smile. “I won’t tell you how to dismember cadavers,” he tittered, “and you don’t tell me how to run my business.”

  “But—”

  “You are a 21st century Igor to my Dr. Frankenstein. I keep you employed, your malpractice victims at bay, and allow you to swim in your sea of opioids and prostitutes,” Gideon said, his reedy, childlike voice contrasting in sickening fashion with overtones of strongarm coercion. “Simply turn on the machine,” Gideon snickered, “And you may continue to live out your dream, as I live out mine.”