Realm of the Nine Circles: A LitRPG Novel

by P. Joseph Cherubino

  “It’s the thought that counts,” Keerna said, as they both jumped to their feet.

  The flame stopped. The shield fell. They ran. Keerna shoved Kalmond in one direction and ran in the other, screaming for healers, shields, and portal mages. Kalmond sprinted down an alley, winding through tightly packed buildings as he headed for a particular corner. He dove left, then reeled and ran the other way as a winged beast dropped to the ground, cutting off his passage. A second drake rider down the next alley landed and made the mistake of dismounting. Instead of fleeing, Kalmond charged the elf traitor mage, knocking him down and slamming his axe into soft flesh.

  “Why?” the dwarf screamed, spittle falling on his cowering opponent. “Why would you side with him?”

  The player stayed down, blood seeping from wounds Kalmond was sure could not be healed.

  “Didn’t have a choice, man.”

  The text floated up in a speech bubble. Fury choked Kalmond’s words. Instead of speaking them, they appeared in his chat box.

  “There is always a choice.”

  The player didn’t answer. Kalmond slammed his booted heel into the elf’s chest, and left him there. It wasn’t mercy that stayed his hand. If this world burned, he wanted those responsible to see it.

  Something belted Kalmond in the back of the head and he sprawled to the ground, dirt cramming into his mouth just as a ball of fire flew overhead. Shaking his head to clear it of the paradox of a surprise attack that saved his life, Kalmond rose to see a human figure dressed in cotton and overalls. The character looked vaguely familiar.

  “Thanks,” Kalmond said, spitting out the gritty,coppery taste soil, not unlike the flavor of blood.

  “Master Thief, you must follow me.”

  The character’s address twigged Kalmond’s mind, made him think of the NPC child that had refused to leave so soon before all hell broke loose. “You’re an… one of Virgil’s?”

  “Some call him that, yes.” The farmer ran quietly from doorway to doorway, unhindered by the billowing smoke and ignoring the screams that saturated the air. “Lost Mary sent me to find you.”

  Hearing the name immediately reminded Kalmond where he’d seen the young NPC girl from the square. He shook of the memory of the ancient quest.

  “I can’t protect you,” Kalmond growled at the farmer. His face twisted, torn between grief and fury. Grief for the characters lost, and the suffering he imagined the beings hooked up to the game endured, and fury that these people hadn’t left when they had the chance.

  The farmer laughed. “Master Thief, we are here to protect you.”

  Kalmond groaned quietly, but didn’t object. This farmer, with no weapons or armor, who spent his days chasing lost cows and begging players for help to corral them, wouldn’t last two seconds against the enemies they faced.

  “I found some marshmallows!” A shout to Kalmond’s side signalled the end of the road. A black-cloaked mage stood in the narrow street, his staff up and ready, red sparks circling ominously as he cast.

  “For the love of the Realms.”

  Kalmond started at the farmer’s muttered oath, but readied his axe and prepared to cleave the mage in two. He stayed the axe handle just before it left his hands as the farmer barrelled into the caster at lightning speed, knocking him over and interrupting the spell. When two dark warriors rushed in, the farmer gave a sharp whistle. Six cows came thundering down a side passage, passing through the farmer like enraged ghosts. They slammed into the warriors and sent them flying, vanishing after the farmer administered a few choice kicks to the fallen men’s heads.

  “Hurry!” the farmer called, and Kalmond did.

  The farmer led him to a small house, surrounded by a high stone wall. The farmer slammed open a door to a courtyard, and Kalmond followed him into the tiny yard. An elven archer stood there, bow drawn and pointed straight at the farmer’s chest. Before Kalmond could reach the attacker, a small figure launched into her, knocking the elf down. The arrow shaft shaved off a section of hair on Kalmond’s left cheek as it passed.

  Lost Mary crouched over the fallen elf and took her head between both hands and struck it into the ground with a sickening thud. The archer struggled, striking Mary with a spiven gauntlet, but the girl caught it in an iron grip. Then, she slammed her head into the archer’s neck and bit. Mary’s teeth sunk through armor and flesh. A leg snapped out and the archer fell for the last time.

  “Master Thief!” Mary said, with a smile that might have been angelic were it not painted with elf blood.

  Kalmond turned and vomited into the flower bed. When he turned back, Mary was pristine, her unwrinkled yellow dress highlighting the healthy blush on her clean cheeks. He shook his head, trying to ignore the archer that lay on the grass between them. Mary knelt, rifled through the body and then casually tossed Kalmond a pendant and helm.

  Blessed Pendant of the Gods: +10% maximum health points

  Coronet of Clans: +14% Ranged Damage

  Kalmond slipped the pendant around his neck, then placed the coronet beside the peytral he was saving for Thornbark. A second farmer raced past, jostling him in his rush. “We found it, we did. That’s the final leg of the quest complete, Lost Mary.” He shot a glance at Kalmond, still wiping his face. “Just in time, I take it?”

  Lost Mary squealed in glee, stamping her feet excitedly. “That’s all of them!” She dipped a hand in the pocket of her skirt and turned away, folding something into a piece of parchment before slipping it away again.

  “Kal?” Thuglar’s voice was a welcome reprieve from the gore.

  “Out back,” Kalmond called back to his friend.

  “Dude, we’re losing and we’re losing hard! These NPCs can fight, man, but there’s not enough.”

  “I know,” Kalmond said with a sideways glance at their host. “What do you want?” he asked Mary. The irritation that laced his voice didn’t hide his unease.

  Mary’s eyes opened wide. “Is something wrong?”

  Bile rose in Kalmond’s throat again and he swallowed. “You—I just… didn’t expect… that.” He faltered and looked to the farmer for support.

  “Huh. No one ever did ask what I was doing in the woods all those years ago. Turns out I was playing my own game!” Her eyes glittered with an intelligence that sent ice through Kalmond’s bones. Kalmond’s mind turned over, dredging up details of the quest he’d completed when he’d first started playing the game, well before it was multiplayer.

  The girl’s mother frantically begged visitors to their town for help finding her daughter. That was the setup. The quest then ran through the woods, past some low level imps and a few boars. Players would sight the girl, face smeared red with the berries she’d been picking. Players never caught up with Lost Mary, but they found tons of loot along the way. The quest pissed everyone off because it was unwinnable. That’s why the quest was discontinued. Lost Mary was not created to be found, until now.

  Something else occurred to Kalmond. When he’d returned to the area of the Mary SIghtings to level his cooking… there had been no berries. The blood drained from Kalmond’s face.

  “Uhh… Kal? You feelin’ ok?”

  “Mary, you mischeivous imp…” The farmer’s voice held a soft note of warning, like a mother chiding a child.

  The menacing look dropped from Mary’s face as she burst into giggles. “All this time in our world, and you have such little understanding of the Realm. No wonder they call your realm the lesser—”

  “Mary!” His tone was sharper this time.

  “Oh no she didn’t.” Thuglar’s voice held a mixture of awe and disbelief.

  “I’m terribly sorry,” Mary said. “I shouldn’t play, not at a time like this. Though, if you could spare a weapon I will be able to dispatch our attackers a little more quietly?”

  She held a hand out and raised expectant eyebrows. The cherubic face contradicted completely with the child’s previous violence. Kalmond hesitated.

  “I give you my word, I
am here to help you. Our gods did not see fit to bestow us traditional weapons and skills for we have never had need of them before. But we can fight, and we will fight to protect you and your people. The captive souls must be freed, and so must I.”

  “What the hell, Virgil?” Kalmond muttered.

  This must be done to achieve balance in the Realm. I need this, as do my people. The text popped into view, disappearing as fast as his eyes skimmed it.

  “I feel like I missed something.” Thuglar looked from the child to the dwarf, confusion etched on his face.

  “Fine.” Kalmond flipped out a spare dagger and passed it to Mary. She took it, spun it around a finger and smiled when it vanished. “We need to get your people out. Come with me.”

  ***

  Keerna followed the innkeep down into the basement, unsure why she was leaving the people outside who needed her. After separating from the rest of her team, she fought her way through crowds of Evil-aligned gamers. Her eyes flicked to her experience bar with each killing, watching it edge close, so close to full. She’s almost brushed off the intrusion, until the innkeep had told her that Kalmond and the others were waiting. A sweet relief banished all thought of pushing forwards to the next level, along with an absolute certainty that she was doing the right thing.

  “Gorflund, I have the sorceress.” The innkeep ducked a curtsy, then, after a moment of hesitation, threw her arms around Keerna. “Thank you, my lady. Know that the residents of the realms will provide any assistance we can.”

  Keerna watched her go, then spun at the scuffling noise behind her. A squat dwarf, of a height that would make even Kalmond look tall, was pulling himself up on a barstool. He passed by the innkeep, who thrust a small leather pouch into his hand.

  “You’re the bartender,” Keerna said. “What are you doing down here?”

  “Aye, I’m the barkeep. Dinna mean I don’t have a hobby.” Gorflund coughed, hacking into a hanky that appeared in his hand just in time.

  “Guess that lungleaf didn’t help?” she asked without thinking. She’d been sent on a quest to find herbs for the old man, back when she was developing her healing skills.

  “Nay, there be naught for an old codger like meself. I do appreciate the wee snappers that offer though. I dinna turn them away, for they bring other herbs, many other herbs…”

  Keerna raised an eyebrow. That quest had cost her an entire level when her character was new. She’d stubbornly refused to let a gnarly old bird sway her from the path up-mountain to find the herb. Each death had cost her a little more XP, until a paladin a few levels above had wandered past and dispatched the bird in two easy blows.

  “What do—” Keerna was interrupted by the chatter of unfamiliar voices. A moment later, the innkeep returned, followed by a young girl. Keerna watched, seemingly forgotten, as the woman and child hurried over to confer with Gorflund, heads bowed as something small was passed back and forth between them. Just as Keerna’s curiosity was getting the better of her, a clamour sounded on the stairs above.

  “Keerna?” Kalmond halted on the stairs and Thuglar slammed into him. A farmer trailing behind gave them both a nudge and they stumbled the rest of the way down the narrow steps.

  “No, Kavocado, it’s Princess Peach.” She smiled to take the sting from her words and gratefully accepted Thuglar’s quick hug.

  Thornbark followed a few moments later, led by a pretty flower-seller who kissed his cheek before scurrying back upstairs. He stood awkwardly, cheeks red, head stooped under the low ceiling. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”

  “You have valiantly protected our people, but the battle that wages above is not one you can win.” The innkeep rested a hand on Thorbark’s flank.

  “So, what? We just hide in here?” Kalmond snapped. Keerna could taste his frustration.

  “Nae, bairns. Ye hide in here.” Gorflund raised his hands and, with a wink that generated a portal on the opposite wall.

  “How did you do that?” Kerna gasped.

  “I told ye, it’s a wee hobby o’ mine. A skill acquired by quest, much like you lot. Now off with ye, I canna be keepin’ this open forever.”

  Keerna gaped at the gentle innkeep. “We can’t just leave!”

  “Keerna’s right,” Kalmond said, hefting his axe in one hand. “We have to stay and fight.”

  “No,” the child said. Keerna stretched her memory, trying to dig up a name. “You will fight, but not here. This battle is our quest, and our right. We will defend our town against any threat, from inside the game or out, or we shall die in the attempt. The Noble Four must survive to win the war.”

  A chill brushed Keerna’s arms at her words, but still she wavered. The girl stepped forward, nose to nose with Kalmond. “Bye!” she said, then pushed. The dwarf stumbled backwards and fell through the portal.

  “I’ve always wanted to do that!” The sound of the child’s gleeful laughter brought a smile to Keerna’s lips.

  “Thank you,” the sorceress said, lifting the hem of her robe to step carefully into the shimmering circle. “Please, stay safe if you can.”

  Thuglar lept through after her, then Thornbark’s spindly legs followed by the rest of him soon after.

  “Well then,” Keerna said, looking at her companions. “What now?”

  Chapter 22

  They turned to wave goodbye to their friends back in the basement. The shimmering gauze of energy between them rendered those left behind as ghostly apparitions in a picture frame. One of the blurred forms moved quickly, and the portal flashed briefly as another object passed through. The four followed the object to the ground with questioning eyes as the portal flashed from existence.

  “A pouch,” Thornbark said, reaching down. He picked it up and opened it carefully. “Looks like the same stuff from the cavern.” The centaur handed the package to Keerna.

  The sorceress waved her hand above the pouch and confirmed that it was soma, the same herb from the Chalice quest. “It still shows no properties,” she said, with more than a little frustration. She added it to her inventory without a second thought.

  They surveyed the landscape, and Thuglar checked the map. A fog of war covered the entire scope. No matter how far out he zoomed, the map remained gray. The land was barren, walled in by sunburnt cliffs, the baked clay underfoot left little room for life. Here, an occasional small reptile darted between rocks, while there, beetles and spiders hunted for food. Minimal spiky plant life, colored brown and green clung, to the rocks defiantly. The four wandered slowly, headed down slope towards a thin running stream.

  “Where are we?” Keerna asked.

  “I don’t know,” Thuglar said. “I looked at the map and it’s all fog.”

  “How can that be?” Kalmond asked. “You and I’ve explored most of the realms. We’ve been to every one of the known Circles at least once.”

  “Maybe it’s new,” Keerna said.

  “Plexcorp didn’t announce a new Circle. The development roadmap says the sixth Circle is still in the planning phases and…” Thornbark said, trailing off.

  Keerna and Kalmond turned to the centaur with arms akimbo. “Yeah, we work there,” Keerna said. “Don’t believe everything you read on the R9C website. The hardware for a new, 100% procedural Circle has been in place for years.”

  “The servers,” Kalmond said, mouth agape. “Virgil is opening the Circle on his own. He must be.”

  “There were enough compute resources in that provisioning stack for that and more,” Keerna said.

  “What are you saying?” Thornbark asked.

  “They’re saying that a massive amount of servers were recently commissioned. It takes several supercomputers to run and manage one of the Circles,” Thuglar said. “I bet Virgil’s code base is outgrowing its current environment.”

  Kalmond grinned as Keerna took her turn to drop her jaw. “He’s a self-taught computer scientist,” the dwarf. “He pretty much went through college with me. I used to send him my old textbooks in exchange for
game loot. Been telling him for years he could be a coder. He won’t listen, though…”

  Thuglar shrugged his shoulders and looked at his feet. “Something like that,” he said.

  “But why did Gorflund send us here?” Thornbark asked.

  They shared blank expressions all around.

  “Virgil?” Kalmond tried for the third time to summon the interface. Nothing happened.

  “You don’t think Mylos…” Thuglar bit his lip, trailing off before saying the words out loud.

  “No.” Keerna kept her head up, her shoulders straight. “He can’t, it’s just not possible.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Kalmond said. “Not possible? None of this is possible. Anything could happen in here, there are no rules anymore.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, of course there are. Virgil still can’t step outside the bounds of his programming, he told us that and—”

  “If Virgil is so damn smart, where is he?” Kalmond snapped.

  “Maybe he’s playing with Lost Mary,” Thuglar snorted. “I still think you made up the whole neck ripping thing, though.”

  “Why the hell would I—”

  “Guys!” Thornbark cut Kalmond off. “Cool it. Look, we’re tired, I get that. We’re in a really bad situation and we left a lot of people behind. We can’t let it shake us, though.”

  “We shouldn’t have gone,” Kalmond muttered, not for the first time since the portal had closed.

  “What,” Thuglar said, “we should have stayed and died, and lost any chance of stopping that douchebag army—”

  “Guys!” Thornbark shouted this time. Three faces turned to him in surprise. “We can do this. I know we can. One step at a time, the first one being a dip in the stream to cool our heads, OK?”

  Kalmond bit back his sharp retort, instead throwing the peytral and coronet to Thornbark. “Found these. Can you use them”

  Thornbark compared the new peytral to the old via his inventory.

  War Peytral: +5 Stamina, +4 Intellect.