Realm of the Nine Circles: A LitRPG Novel

by P. Joseph Cherubino

  "Run!" Kalmond yelled as the spell broke and he wrenched his eyes away at last. He yanked on Thuglar's arm and the elf followed, already outpaced by Keerna and Thornbark.

  They raced towards the camp, spurred by terror, pushed by the threat of the advancing army. As the tents sprang into view, so did a line of people. They ran towards the Four, dressed in the robes of clerics and mages, the armor of warriors, paladins and thieves.

  Kalmond pushed harder, then skidded to the side as a fireball exploded nearby. Another followed, then a barrage of arrows. A grunt behind made him turn, almost trip when he saw one of Keerna's archers flat on the ground with an arrow through her skull.

  The reinforcements surged forward, casting counterspells that fell short of the chasing army, shields that wavered and slid, trying to keep up with the moving party.

  “Go, go, go!” Someone screamed directions, sending a group to protect the fleeing Nobles, another to intercept the insurgents.

  Kalmond crashed into one of Keerna’s clan members, still cloaked. They threw off the enchantment and immediately grabbed Kalmond’s arm. “This way,” he said, tugging Kalmond’s wrist. Unable to keep up with the orc’s long strides Kalmond stumbled. The orc lost his grip, then exploded into flames as a fiery arrow plunged into his chest. Kalmond screamed, spun around. Another warrior fell as shield enclosed the dwarf, purple swirls fading out to an unobtrusive glow.

  “Protect the four!” The shouts came thick and fast as a swarm of fighters surrounded Kalmond, arrows nocked and spells at the ready. They were pushed backwards, frantically loosing spells and weapons into the enemies that broke through. A centaur shouldered past, not Thornbark. It reared up and kicked an elven archer in the face, then trampled him underfoot as he shoved through the press of bodies.

  “Kelpie Clan! This way.” The deep voice bellowed out and a moment later a line of centaurs filled the open passage the first had left behind. “Brother Thornbark!” the leader called. The Kelpie clan formed a tight pack around Thornbark just as he pulled Thuglar up on his back.

  “I can explain the rider!” Thornbark stammered.

  The leader held up his hand. “The taboo does not apply to the Noble Four, but let’s not speak of it just the same. Here.” The taller centaur handed his protege a crupper and chestpiece, and Thornbark equipped it immediately. The mark of the Kelpie Clan stood proudly on the leather covering Thornbark’s hindquarters, matching the one on his spiven-clad breast.

  Kalmond was left to pray the Kelpie Clan protected his friend while while Kalmond was pulled into a protective cluster of mages. The dwarf tried to push past his guard, but they pushed back, hemming him in.

  “Stay low,” a white bearded figure said, raising his hands to form a new, larger shield around their group. “Our only task is to get you somewhere safe. The others will stay and fight for our cause.”

  “No!” Kalmond growled but was shouted down.

  “We have no hope of winning this alone! If you stay you will die. The quest chain is explicit: Keep the Four alive.”

  With a bellow of frustration, Kalmond relented. He let them drag him away from the battle, watching with tight lips as the enemy army approached the healers tents which were the last bastion of safety for the Noble Army.

  Chapter 26

  Bertram sat cross-legged on the ground, with the tip of his thick pink tongue jutting from the corner of his mouth. “Good,” he said, carefully applying another band-aid to an ogre with a missing arm. When the arm didn’t regenerate fast enough, he slapped on two more, checked the ogre’s eyes, then sent her on her way. When another player buddy-carried an unconscious human and dumped him on the ground, Bertram gasped. “Bad!” he exclaimed, and dragged the human mage closer, patting him on the chest.

  Bertram tenderly applied two bandages and waited. “Good,” he cooed as the mage’s health bar pushed into the green. He reached down and stood the mage on his feet.

  Thwack! Six arrows pierced the newly-healed body, scoring three criticals and removing any chance of healing. The body faded into pink mist as Bertram’s hands closed slowly around nothing. His eyes went wide, and his lower lip rose to cover the upper. Tears spilled down to form twin waterfalls around the corners of his mouth that joined again to stream from his chin like a salty beard.

  “Bad,” Bertram whispered.

  Thwack! Two arrows sprouted from Bertram’s chest. He plucked at them with questioning eyes. “Bad,” Bertram said a little louder.

  A throng of combatants moved into his field of vision. As if for the first time, his eyes passed across the violence all around. “Bad,” he proclaimed.

  Two Evil-aligned paladins cut an elven mage in two and advanced on the giant.

  “Take out their main healer!” one of them bellowed.

  “Bad,” Bertram rumbled.

  “Uh-oh…” the other Paladin said. “Maybe not.”

  They slashed at Bertram with their swords, but the giant just raised his forearm and took two deep cuts that amounted to less than 2% of his health.

  “Bad! Not good!” Bertram said, rising to his full height, nearly two body-lengths taller than the paladin’s.

  “Bad!” Bertram’s bellowed word of rage shook the ground and knocked the two soldiers of Mylos off their feet. Bertram picked them both up by the ankles and smashed them together like rocks. The bodies faded as he balled his fists.

  “Not good!. Bad, not good!” Bertram pulled the two arrows from his chest and used them to skewer two of three Mylos mages who fired cold blasts at an orc prostrate on the ground. He kicked the third mage as if aiming for goal posts while holding the other two out like cocktail weenies. When the mages stopped writhing, he threw their lifeless bodies to the ground and charged through the enemy lines. Bertram plowed through the waves of Mylos’ army like a battleship, sending a foam of bodies flying.

  ***

  Those who decided to fall back to protect the Noble Four built a small army of their own from shattered fragments. About a hundred players formed a protective perimeter around a low hill near the healing tents. Kalmond tried to rise from his prone position to see what was going on. Keerna yanked him down beside her. “If you stick that nose of yours too far out you’ll be seen,” she hissed. “I’m not risking the whole group to save your snout.”

  He flopped onto the dirt with a scowl. “What the hell are we supposed to do? That army is huge, we don’t have a chance of sneaking past them. This whole plan was doomed from the beginning.”

  The truth of his words bit deep but Keerna forced her face smooth, mindful that the usual barrier of a screen no longer existed. “There’s a way to do this, there has to be. It’s a quest, and Virgil has been specifically programmed not to give impossible tasks.”

  “Lost Mary was an impossible task,” Thornbark replied.

  “That’s why R9C doesn’t have them anymore. There is always a payoff,” Keerna replied.

  “So, how do we do it?” Thuglar asked, kicking at a clod of dirt with his heel.

  “Ugh.” Keerna finally let a trace of her frustration through. “I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have burned my three questions.”

  “It’s how we always play,” Thuglar said.

  “Don’t feel bad. We all did it.” Thornbark nodded in agreement.

  Kalmond snorted. “Lucky for you. Virgil wouldn’t even give me mine. I swear he hates me now.”

  Keerna sat bolt upright. “Wait.. you didn’t use your questions?”

  Kalmond looked at her blankly. “No, like I said he—Oh!” Understanding dawned over Kalmond’s face and his eyes widened. Then, he squeezed them shut and crossed his stubby fingers. “Uhh, Virgil?”

  The interface appeared, this time in glowing white robes. “Yes, Master Kalmond?”

  “Now you appear!” Kalmond snapped. “Where were—” He stopped when Keerna and Thuglar both jabbed elbows into his ribs. “I mean, Virgil, we can’t complete the quest with what we have, we can’t get through the army. Are we missing someth
ing?”

  “You have everything you need, but are not all you can be. The chalice must be used in true form.”

  “Oh, he’s gotta be joking,” Kalmond growled. “What does that even mean?”

  Virgil beamed down with a benign smile “Was that your second question, Master Kalmond?”

  Keerna slapped a hand over the dwarf’s mouth, thinking furiously. “‘In true form,” she said. “The chalice. What else could it be? But how do we find the true form of the chalice?” She worried at her lips, frissons of thought pinging together in her head. “Chalice. Cup. It’s a cup. You drink from cups. They hold things. Liquids. Water would be too easy. Kal, ask what goes in the cup?”

  “Virgil, what goes in the cup?” Kalmond spoke with just a hint of excitement.

  “Everything you want to be, everything you were, and everything you are.”

  Kalmond’s thick brows scurried together as a distant memory tugged at his mind. Everything I want to be, and was.

  “Something we haven’t received yet?” Keerna said, thinking aloud.

  “No.” Thuglar looked up at the old man. “He said we have everything. We know we have the chalice, I think he was talking about something else.”

  Keerna nodded and Kalmond yelped. “The NPC’s quest!”

  “What NPC quest?” Keerna said. “I haven’t had anything but the main Mylos chain.”

  Kalmond shook his head, eyes glowing with excitement. “Not an NPC quest. The NPC’s quest! It happened so quick and there was so much going on, I just forgot. The pouch, with the soma in it? I’m sure that’s what the farmer gave to Lost Mary when he said their quest chain was complete.”

  Keerna pulled out the small pouch and held it up. “I think you’re right. Lost Mary, Gorflund and the innkeep were whispering and they passed something around. I bet it was this.”

  Thuglar laughed and shook his head. “NPC quests? You two are crazy!”

  Keerna just grinned at him, then carefully opened the packet over the cup. She crouched down, watching closely as four soma leaves fell out, settling in the silver bowl of the chalice. Each one of the Noble four activated their chalice and set it down on the ground beside Keerna’s. The vessels shimmered, shook and moved towards each other, then merged into one that glowed with golden light.

  As she watched, they dissolved into four beads of glistening, slivery liquid. The liquid increased, filling the cup with an effervescent substance that bubbled and threw golden sparks into the air as it fizzed. A line of text scrolled into sight.

  Congratulations! You have completed: Free The Realm quest, checkpoint #2.

  You have received:

  Quest reward: 5000 circs

  Quest Reward: Tongue of the Goddess: +3 Intellect, +15 Spell Damage, +7 Magic Resistance

  Quest Reward: Robes of the Goddess: +5 Intellect, +10% Mana, +15 Healing Spells

  Quest Experience: 3500 XP

  Keerna’s hands trembled against the rope of her new whip and the soft cloth of the robes. Tears filled her eyes, obscuring the white flash of someone levelling beside her. With a deep breath, she imagined her new gifts in use, cloth against skin, weapon in hand. The game obliged and she looked up at her friends as the swell of increasing mana stats blossomed inside her.

  Set bonus: +5% Mana

  “We did it!” she screeched, throwing her arms around Kalmond’s neck in excitement. He rocked back, laughing as he hugged her back, almost jostling the chalice.

  “Congratulations. You have reached the next stage of your journey.”

  Keerna blushed, righting herself as she wondered if a touch of dryness in Virgil’s voice was just her imagination. Pulling back, she gave a start. Kalmond burned. Not just figuratively, either. His leggings gave a brief image of flickering flame, barely noticeable against the fiery glow of his new axe. The dwarf’s skin glowed as he grinned wolfishly.

  “Kal… your axe!”

  He nodded. “Fire damage and resistance. Leg, too, and a good dose of stamina to keep me on my feet.”

  “Congrats, man. Level forty at long last.” Thuglar leaned in to smack Kalmond’s shoulder, hand sizzling at it touched. Thuglar, too, was different. His eyes glowed an icy blue and a faint mist rose from his frigid shoulders. He saw Keerna looking and flicked out two sparkling daggers with the same effect. He twirled them, and bowed. “You’re looking at the new ice king, mistress of magic.”

  Keerna gave a heady giggle and turned to Thornbark. She gasped. “Thornbark? Where is he?”

  A movement in the grass betrayed him and the centaur chuckled. He faded into view, wielding an ornate, two-handed sword that had tiny leaves etched into its blade. He held it with expert grace, his new elbow high gloves seeming an extension of the weapon with their matching pattern.

  “You’re all beautiful,” Kalmond opined. “But we have a job to do. Drink up!”

  “This one better not have an age limit,” Thuglar grumbled as Kalmond passed him the cup. He took a sip, then passed it along as tingling sparks zipped along his skin. The watched as Thuglar took the next mouthful, vision so crisp it almost hurt. The thief grinned at him, then shivered as the magic took effect. Keerna went next, then Kalmond, Thornbark almost unable to concentrate past the soft tickling buzz in his head. He glanced at the ground to orient himself, then sucked in a deep breath. His hooves dangled a foot above the packed dirt, swaying as he jerked his head to look around.

  Around him, the others had also lifted off the ground. A soft glow surrounded them but also connected them, a cord tracing a circle that linked each of them, shining and pulsing with life. It seeped into Thornbark’s bones, stretched him, reformed him. He felt his body change, his cells rearrange.

  “Touch it,” Thornbark said. “Like before.”

  Four hands reached for the chalice. The instant they all made contact, their worlds changed. Thornbark reared up as a glowing Pagasus, spreading his wings. Thuglar morphed and gelled into a plant creature once again, with a crown of brambles and grape vines for hands. Keerna stood up, a being made entirely of light. The dwarf became a living statue, hewn from marble.

  Kalmond bent back down, picked up the chalice and held it out to Thuglar. The plant creature thought for a moment, then brought his hand over the cup and made a fist. He crushed the grapes at the ends of his fingers, producing fragrant wine that coursed over his knuckles like a waterfall. Keerna held one hand over her heart and passer her hand across the cup. She turned to Thornbark, who stepped close and extended one of his wings. Keerna plucked a feather from the wing and placed it in the cup.

  The ground rippled and shimmered in widening circles beneath their feet as Kalmond drew the cup back and tipped it to his mouth. He drank deeply, and the glow from the cup spread across the rocks that made up his body. Kalmond staggered backwards, causing mini temblors as his feet met the soil.

  “Bad!” A voice rose above the clash of weapon against armor and the sizzle and crash of cast spells. “Not good! Bad!”

  Enemy bodies flew high above the crowd as Bertram rampaged towards the hill where the Noble four hid. Mylos’ army broke before him, and a steady stream of the Noble Army trailed behind, picking off those stunned and wounded by the rampaging giant.

  “This is it!” Keerna shouted, shocked to be back in her original form.

  Thuglar and Thornbark also returned to normal. Only Kalmond remained. He shrugged his shoulders and ran.

  “No!” The remaining companions screamed in unison, but it was too late. Kalmond burst through the shield of his protectors and quickly caught up to Bertram.

  “Bad, bad, bad!” Bertram bellowed, with a dying ogre in each fist. He used the bodies to batter the soldiers in his path. When their health bars faded and the bodies disappeared, he picked up two more random soldiers and used them as weapons. “Not good, bad!”

  Healed gamers rallied and streamed out from the tents. The giant’s attack was just the opportunity they needed. The Army of Mylos, so sure of its victory, now fought a running battle of
retreat as the Noble Army surged forth, gaining strength as it reversed course.

  Kalmond picked up speed. A glowing golden bar appeared across the field of his vision. “Invincibility,” it read, and it showed just 50% remaining. The rift seemed so far, and his endurance bar plummeted rapidly. To his right, Bertram formed a picture of rage, pummeling everything in his path. Sounds of battle faded, to be replaced by the beating of his rocky heart that rumbled like stone in a quarry rolling downhill.

  Bertram plowed into a line of ten Paladins with pikes angled up towards his chest. The pike shafts drove deeply into the giant’s flesh, and he swept his arms across them, snapping the shafts like twigs. The attack finally slowed him down, but Kalmond kept his speed. He swung his marble fist with all his might at the head of an orc Paladin, shattering his skull. The dwarf turned again to see ten more enemy soldiers converge on Bertram. He turned away just as Bertram staggered and dropped to one knee.

  He did not have to see the XP bubble that floated from the disappearing body of the headless orc, nor the notice of a double critical to know that last kill brought him to level forty. He didn’t hear the chime that announced the next level, he didn’t bother to look at his bonus point, but instead willed the extra point to his stamina. With all stats at 100% and his endurance restored, the invincibility spell fizzled, and he morphed into a dwarf once again. He willed another sprint and drove hard for the rift.

  The swirling vortex loomed ahead, hovering just off the ground. Beyond it, across the plateau, the tents of the enemy army revealed themselves as a dotted line written across the landscape. Kalmond made out forms rushing towards him through the transparent energy of the rift. Arrows appeared in the ground ahead and to the side. He had no idea if any of the archers behind him scored a hit. He was not even aware of his boots pounding against the ground. All he wanted was to reach the rift.

  When the rupture filled the entirety of his vision, Kalmond dove. His left hand hit the wall of energy first, fingers outstretched. His arm sank into it to the elbow, and he turned his head to the right as the top of his skull made contact. Beside him, an enemy elf made a desperate lunge with a two handed sword and found nothing but air as Kalmond disappeared. The portal blinked out.