The Curse of Rion Castle (The Neuro Book #2) LitRPG Series

by Andrei Livadny

  A bead of sweat dripped from my forehead, snaking down my cheek. I could feel Enea shiver. The legionnaires lingered, wary of the Aura of a Predator.

  Fragments of thoughts flashed through my mind. I'd almost made the next level. I could take the risk. I had to attack them first.

  "Keep healing me!" I shouted to Enea.

  With my left hand I grabbed a spear lying in the smoldering grass and buried it in the nearest enemy's shield. The zombie swung round with the impact; the heavy spear shaft dipped, tracing a semicircle over the ground until it tripped up the feet of the legionnaire next to him. Trying to keep his balance, he opened up, allowing me to stab him with my sword. He recoiled and dropped his weapon, howling and clutching instinctively at his wound as if to stop the gushing of blood.

  I swung round again. My sword's blade glinted through the gloom. Another enemy started making croaking noises.

  I moved fast, giving it my all. The Aura of a Predator turned out to be one hell of a powerful debuff. The Staff of a Hydra slowed the enemies down, constricting their movements — but still the level gap worked in their favor. Two of them managed to get to me. Pain flooded my mind. I lost my footing before I could complete a new attack. Blood trickled down my leg. A hefty blow from a rusty battle hammer had made my shoulder numb.

  I somehow managed to block a new blow and stepped back, limping. Enea kept healing me non-stop but the flashes of the Minor Heal took too long to restore my health properly.

  Still, I'd already smoked one of them. Four to go. The mercs had done a good job on them. Legionnaires didn't have Regeneration. Their life bars glowed crimson. All I had to do was finish them off. I could do that!

  The tallest and strongest of them hurled his shield aside and lunged onto me. His oxidized sword whooshed through the air. I ducked just in time, slashing at his leg, then rolled over the ground toward the next one, stabbing him in the chest from below. His heavy body collapsed on top of me, pinning me to the ground, then crumbled to ashes.

  A fireball roared past my shoulder. Another zombie went up in flames, torch-like, before he could finalize his attack. Still running, he took a few more steps and dissolved into a cloud of soot which slowly drifted to the ground.

  Two left. This wasn't so bad, after all. Enea promptly ported out of another zombie's reach. A crossbow twanged in the dark. A heavy bolt pierced my armor and stuck deep in my ribs.

  My life promptly plummeted, stopping at 10%. Blood gushed from the wound. My breathing seized. My vision swam. I couldn't expect an immediate heal as Enea's mental energy bar was dangerously close to zero while my sword kept siphoning my mana, feeding it to the glowing runes which allowed me to deal additional damage.

  I struggled to remain standing. The Mortal Wound debuff I'd received with the crit prevented me from moving freely.

  "Alex, the vial!" Enea cried out in desperation.

  Impossible. My legs were weak, my fingers didn't obey me; the quick access slots in my interface blurred, then faded. My mind began to shut down.

  I must have zoned out for a few seconds. A green flash exploded before my eyes. The pain released me. My every muscle filled with strength. My life and mental energy indicators soared, filling to the brim.

  You've received a new level!

  Still unbelieving that I'd somehow avoided going to my respawn point, I sprang to my feet and cast a look around.

  Enea was nowhere to be seen. Two of the surviving legionnaires stood with their backs to me, peering into the thick darkness.

  One of them threw his hand in the air, pointing. "There!"

  Still reeling from the shock, I unhesitantly lunged at them before they could disappear into the dark. I critted one (because a surprise attack almost always ends in a crit), then dodged the other one's blow by ducking under his battle hammer's path, slashed at his legs, then shrank aside and froze in place.

  You've received a new level!

  The darkness around me began to fall apart, disintegrating into separate wisps and revealing the dull pulsating glow of the gem topping the Staff of the Hydra.

  "Enea!"

  She turned round. With a weak cry, she rushed toward me and threw herself on my neck, pressing her body against mine, oblivious of everything around us. Her heart fluttered in her chest.

  "Alex... you're alive..."

  This wasn't like a game at all. The situation was too intense and poignant, too fragile, too real-life.

  "It's all right. Don't get so worked up," I stroked her hair. "You've saved me from respawning."

  She sniffled. "No, I haven't. I just didn't know what to do. My hands shook so badly I spilled half the vial. I tried to heal you but it didn't work. Then those two bastards went for you. I ported without even looking. That orc just sat there stringing his crossbow. He stank like you can't imagine. His armor was all rusty. I was so jumpy I just hit him with Lightning."

  "That's it! That's how I got the little bit of XP I needed!"[i]

  "Really?" she ran her hand over my stubbly cheek. Embarrassed, she stepped back to pick up her staff from the ground. "So what are we going to do?"

  Good question. I looked around. We'd done the first floor — or at least the outside of it. The darkness had shrunk upwards, swirling.

  The little Black Mantis climbed out onto Enea's shoulder and cast a watchful eye around. Having noticed no danger, he began rearranging a disheveled lock of her hair. Cute beastie. He might grow up into a fearsome and devoted pet.

  "Zander was right about one thing," I said. "A quest is always doable. If the curse can't be removed, they'd have simply rejected our castle application."

  "But there're only two of us left," Enea said anxiously. "The others won't be back till sunrise — and their debuffs will still be active!"

  The trolls' heart-rending screams came from the tower's upper floors. It looked like the legionnaires killed everything in their path indiscriminately.

  "I haven't found out anything about the curse," I said. "But now we have another lead to follow. Try to find what you can about the Cohort of the Fallen."

  "Okay. Do you want us to stay here?"

  "No. We're going upstairs. I want to see if the donjon is split into several locations."

  "What's that gonna do for us?"

  "If every floor is a separate location, then we just might be able to purge them all. Do you remember what I said to you about the game mechanics?"

  A smile touched her lips. She must have remembered the pond, the toad and her first little triumph. "I see. Does that mean that Zander's level triggered the mobs' attack? Did you say they were adaptive?"

  She was gradually learning to use the lingo. "Exactly. If these locations are adaptive, it means that the mobs too should be doable," I said, trying to cheer her up.

  The recent fight with Christa had had a strange effect on her. Enea had grown quiet and unsmiling. Her impulsiveness was gone; a sudden fatigue had replaced her original excitement with the gameplay. She just wasn't used to it yet. Spending twenty-four hours sitting at the console surrounded by lifelike holograms could cause a serious mental overload in a newb.

  * * *

  "COME ON now," I drew Enea into the Resurrection Hall. According to the map, that was the name of the main hall of the donjon's first level.

  It was dark. The lamps lining the walls had expired. Little purple lights floated over the teleport platform. I'd never managed to get to the control unit plastered with runes. Still, we didn't have the time. I'd have to leave all such experiments till morning.

  The Heart of a Hydra cast its light onto the ancient walls. A narrow tunnel-like staircase snaked through the stonework, rising to the donjon's next level. The remnants of several portcullises, dilapidated and rusty, had blocked it once, preventing an attacking enemy from breaking through to the top floors.

  Enea was busy looking it up online. Even though we'd received our first prompt, we still had to find out whether there was any mention of the Cohort in public access.

&nb
sp; The thick layer of dust mixed with ashes felt springy underfoot. The darkness swirled high overhead. We'd have to enter it soon. In the meantime, I used Twilight Vision which highlighted the outlines of all objects which had been lying here since the times of the epic battle.

  I picked up a good sturdy shield. The sword kept siphoning my mental energy. I didn't mind, really. It would be stupid to pass up the opportunity to deal some additional damage to the enemy. The narrow staircase, too, offered a decent chance of repelling any surprise attacks, as least long enough for Enea to cast her spells.

  "Got it!" she exclaimed.

  I was so glad to hear the excitement back in her voice. "Tell me. In a nutshell."

  "I'd better read it. Here:

  In days far gone, when the powers of Light and Dark had united against the followers of the Founder Gods, Rion Castle had become the last stronghold of the ancient religion, offering refuge to its remaining worshippers. Many a desperate year did the siege last. Many a time did the attackers attempt to storm the castle — all to no avail."

  I interrupted her, "We know all this already, don't we? What we need to find out is who the Fallen Legionnaires are."

  She continued reading,

  "The Cohort of the Chosen used to unite the strongest warriors, sorcerers and wizards amongst the Disciples. They didn't know defeat. Their arrival used to decide the outcome of the most desperate of battles. In the meantime, the dissent amongst the besiegers grew: you can't expect Light and Dark to coexist in peace. Soon it became pretty clear that the coalition was living its last days. Seeing that, the leader of the demons suggested launching one final offensive. Upon his orders, tunnels were dug through to the castle's underground dungeons. And as the battle reached its climax, hundreds of dark wizards sacrificed themselves to cast one last spell, shattering the cliffs in a desperate combined effort. The Cohort of the Chosen was sent to stop the assault..."

  Enea stopped to catch her breath. I peered into the gloom. Up the slightly winding staircase, I could just see a door on a small landing.

  "You all right?" I asked Enea without turning.

  "Just out of breath," she said, gasping. The stone on top of her staff seemed to pulsate faster in synch with her rapid heartbeat. "I've installed a new VR system last night. I'm not quite used to it yet."

  "So what about the Cohort? Did they manage to repel the demons' attack?"

  "I don't think so. Here's what it says,

  "Then the Higher Demons summoned a powerful control curse from the bowels of the earth. Only a few of the legionnaires managed to resist the spell while all others fell victim to dark magic and attacked their own from behind. The spell-bound warriors slaughtered the wizards before they could cast cleansing auras on them. And by doing so, they broke the solemn oath they had sworn to the Founders and became the Cohort of the Fallen."

  "And the curse, what's that all about?"

  "Every night the legionnaires return to relive that fateful night. Over and over again they betray their friends and storm the castle, killing everything in their path."

  "Does that mean they're still formally under the demons' control?"

  "Apparently not. Although the Cohort of the Fallen is listed under the Powers of the Dark, the legionnaires don't follow their orders. They simply pay for what they have wrought."

  "You mean, they know what they're doing?"

  "I think so, but they don't seem to be able to change anything," she offered.

  I walked up the stairs and pushed the door. It creaked open, revealing a small room behind. It must have been an armory. The floor was littered with arrows and an occasional rusty sword. Halberds leaned against the wall. A few empty oil vats stood in the corner.

  "Any ideas how we could lift the curse?" I asked her.

  "Not yet," she admitted. "Can't think of anything at the moment. We might receive more prompts, you never know. In any case, I don't think we can just 'mop the place up room by room,' as Togien suggested. There're just too many of them."

  "True," I said, exiting the room which held nothing of interest. The staircase led upward. Very soon we'd have to re-enter the darkness.

  * * *

  WE CONTINUED up the stairs. Soon the sticky darkness closed around us again, filled with mind-chilling whispers and whimpering.

  The staff's light struggled to dispel the viscous gloom. It didn't cast long shadows any more, exuding a weak light around us.

  "It's so cold here..."

  I too was frozen to the bone. I didn't see where I was going anymore. The pressure on my mind kept growing.

  "Alex," Enea said softly, "what is it between you and Christa?"

  "Sorry, can we discuss it some other time? I'll tell you everything, I promise," I climbed up another stair and froze, listening in. I didn't hear anything suspicious.

  "No, let's do it now," impatient jealous notes rang in her voice. "Why does this bitch always have to stand in our way?"

  I turned to her in disbelief. What was wrong with her?

  The staff's unsteady light sharpened her features. I didn't recognize the look in her eyes. I couldn't figure it out.

  The Heart of a Hydra pulsated faster.

  The staff's sharp end scratched the floor as she flung it up, pointing it at my chest.

  She changed her grip on it, grasping the staff with both hands. So tense, so beautiful. So desirable.

  What the hell had happened? The world seemed to have turned inside out. My most secret, most impossible dreams had suddenly resurfaced, escaping my self-control.

  "Do you love her?"

  Our locked gazes filled with pain. Our emotions tensed up, sharpening to the point of insanity. One rash word, and there'd be no way back.

  The runes on my sword glowed defiantly. Enea waited for me to answer. Still, the truth would kill her.

  Once again our stares met. My forehead felt cold with sweat. My fingers closed around the hilt of my sword. My emotions were in overdrive, choking reason, drowning it in the depths of resurfacing desires.

  "Alex, talk to me! I dropped everything and followed you like an idiot!"

  In real life, moments like these are bound to end in either a desperate show of passion — or in a breakup. We both were like live wires devoid of reason.

  Her lips shook. The daggers in her cold prickly glare pierced my heart but failed to dishearten my agonizing desire to possess what I couldn't have.

  The darkness kept creeping up on us, enveloping us, disgorging faint shadowy outlines...

  Enea saw them too. "Let's put an end to this!" she exhaled bitterly.

  We struck out in synch.

  Her staff's sharp tip missed my temple by a hair. My sword flashed through the gloom, piercing the clot of darkness just over her shoulder.

  Clinging to each other, we watched the two shadowy silhouettes gain shape and detail, materializing. Two sorcerers clad in rotten tattered robes slumped to the ground behind our backs.

  I could feel her heart flutter against mine.

  My ears rang with the adrenaline rush.

  The curse of Rion Castle had brushed our minds just to show us how deep and treacherous the emotional void could be. Its edge is all too easy to overstep; its abyss a long and hopeless drop.

  "No," her hand touched my lips. "Don't say anything."

  * * *

  "STEP BACK," I croaked, sensing the cold's freezing approach.

  We descended a dozen steps to the safety of the wall's curve and stopped by the armory's open door, just outside of the swirling darkness.

  Enea was gasping, averting her embarrassed gaze.

  I was seriously worried about her. Very. "Why would the castle's curse affect you so badly?"

  She must have sensed the anxiety in my voice but not the reason for it. "Shouldn't it?"

  I vividly imagined her in her VR room, surrounded by holograms. A player perceives the visuals and audio effects, plus an occasional input from the environment generator, allowing Enea to sense smells, temperatu
re changes or the touch of a breeze. The tactile sensors allowed her to "feel" the objects around her. The shock membranes imitated the damage taken.

  All of the above combined could build a rather believable immersive experience — but that was the extent of it! There was only one device which could affect a player's mind, triggering an uncontrollable surge of emotions.

  The neuroimplant.

  "What made you freak out like that?" I demanded.

  "Alex, please! I don't know, do I? Just a momentary lapse. I couldn't think straight. I'm sorry, okay? To tell you the truth, I'm a bit tired. This new VR system is too powerful. I think that's what must have caused it."

  "What, that new cutting-edge equipment? Could you describe it to me?"

  What she said made me completely change my view of our technology levels. "Just a new-generation VR capsule. It's filled with special sensory gel. It comes with a feedback feature and resistance emulators. The immersion effect is just out of this world."

  "That wouldn't explain how the curse could affect your brain! I'd like you to touch your right temple. Can you feel anything there?"

  "Alex, please. Get a grip. What's wrong with you?"

  I didn't reply, waiting for her to do it.

  "Okay, okay," Enea touched her right temple. Or rather, her avatar repeated the movement she made in real life.

  "And? Can you feel anything? Tell me!"

  "I can feel something, yeah. A chip? So what?" she shrugged. "The sensory gel is absolutely stuffed with them."

  "You need to log out — now!"

  "Excuse me?" she stared closely in my eye. "Is this how you normally break up with someone? Couldn't think of anything better?"

  A wave of heat rushed over me.

  She didn't know! They'd used her! Without her consent! She too was part of the experiment!

  "Alex? I'm waiting. Either you tell me what it's all about or I will leave this time," she sounded angry and upset.