by A P Gore
CUrsemancer
BlackFlame Online Book 1
A.P. Gore
Patricia Jones
To My son, who would grow up playing RPGs and RTSs. Like his Dad.
CurseMancer Copyright © 2018 by A.P. Gore and Patricia Jones. All Rights Reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
1. Forty Years
2. The Room
3. Class System
4. Respawn
5. Goddess Sumara
6. New Class
7. Cursemancer
8. Demon Tongue
9. Blacksmith
10. Spells
11. Spirit Cycling
12. Critical Strike
13. Skill Book
14. Level up
15. Demon Girl
16. Close Call
17. The Fun
18. Temple of Sumara
19. Chance
20. Companion
21. Demon Crystal
22. Dream
23. Goblin
24. Fock the goblins
25. Goblin Town
26. The God's Realm
27. The Offer
28. The Answer
29. Curse of the Boiling Blood
30. Showdown
31. Expansion Site
32. Curse of Sumara
33. Aftermath
1. Forty Years
Opening his eyes was painful enough that Noah screwed them shut instantly. When the pain abated, he opened his eyes again to squint up at a bright light blinking overhead. He averted his gaze, but found himself in a large hall whose white walls reflected the light back at him. He squeezed his eyes shut once more.
He took a deep breath, inhaling clean, scentless, warm air. A trickle of sweat on his neck felt cold compared to the warmth of his skin. He opened his eyes again. This time, he could see a white polished table in the middle of the room. It could be wooden or polycarbonate. A thick, featureless layer of white paint made it unappealing.
He tried to shield his eyes from the piercing light overhead but couldn’t. Two silver metal chains wrapped around his bare hands and bound him to a chair. The thick, cold touch of chains evoked a primal feeling inside him, as if he were a vicious criminal ready to unleash doomsday on the world.
What the heck is this?
This must be a dream.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the dream to fade. But the cold steel around his hands didn’t go anywhere.
Why am I chained like a criminal?
He tried to picture the last thing he remembered. Last night—yes, last night—he was with his daughter, a four-year-old girl who insisted on eating from his plate.
“Tia, no. Big girls eat from their own plates.” He pushed her plate closer to her.
“Daddy. No. I want to eat your pasta.” She begged him with blue puppy eyes.
His heart melted, and he gave up, let her do her thing. Why wouldn’t he? She was his everything, ever since his wife passed away. Everything he did was for her.
But that was it. After that, there was only emptiness—no memory of getting to this place, no memory of who abducted him.
I’m just a researcher.
He worked as a researcher in IMT, a department conducting research on Intergalactic Magical Transportation ideas for Laxania.
He wasn't a criminal, so why was he bound with chains as thick as his wrist?
Noah blinked rapidly a few times. Eventually, his eyes adjusted to the painfully bright light. In one of those blinks, he spotted a long beard growing from his chin, like he hadn’t shaved in ten years. How was that possible? He had shaved last night before preparing dinner.
Wait, did I?
He searched his memories but couldn't remember if he had shaved.
A white door on one white wall cracked open, attracting his attention. A man in a long, white robe and round, ornate glasses walked in.
Glasses, really?
Corrective lenses were wiped out of the galaxy hundreds of years ago. The implementation of nanites in medical science solved pretty much all diseases humans faced, and vision issues were among them.
“Noah Maddison.” The newcomer peeked at the personal computer strapped to his wrist. At least that remained the same, a personal computer in the form of a watch strapped to every human's wrist. Noah’s eyes jumped to the stranger’s hands. They were bare.
“Who are you? And why am I bound with these chains?” Noah once again tried to free his hands. Another vain attempt. He gave up when agonizing pain shot up his arms.
The man in ornate glasses stared at him like he was searching for answers in Noah's soul. “Do you want a long answer, or a short one?” He pushed his glasses up his nose.
“Why are you wearing glasses?”
“That's funny.”
“What's funny? Chaining me like a criminal is funny?” Noah lifted his brows while continuing to struggle against the chains. He even tried to send a pulse of lightning into the chains, but his magic refused to come out. At that, he looked inward, searching for his magic levels. Surprisingly, his magic reserve was completely empty.
But why?
The man chuckled. “Hearing you wondering about my glasses when you are chained.”
Noah’s face heated as anger flared. “Give me a damn answer!” His shoulder blades slapped together, making a cracking sound like they hadn’t been used for years.
The man in the ornate glasses flashed an unyielding smile. Noah would have slapped him if he could. The man was getting on his nerves. He sat in the chair across the table and set a file folder on it. “Ah, this, this is for fashion. My girlfriend thinks I look good in these.”
Another stupid answer. Noah took a deep breath, in and out—a meditation technique he used to calm down. He had to take it slow. “Okay. Tell me why I am chained to a chair?” Noah calmed himself further. Anger would not get him out of here.
“What do you remember about yourself?” The man tapped on his PC again, and a holographic image of a paper floated in the air.
Noah recognized it as his file. He could see his opaque face on it, and he was clean-shaven in the photo. “I asked first.”
“But I already answered your question, so it's my turn.”
In a rapid reaction Noah drew more air into his lungs. Along with it, he took in the stranger’s stupid cologne too, pushing his annoyance to the next level.
I must not panic. Let's take it easy, Noah. If he hasn't killed you already, that means there is a chance to survive this. He might want something. Ask him.
“What do you want? Laxania’s secrets?”
Glass-man's intense gaze jumped to meet Noah's. It stayed there for a while before moving on. He smirked. “I already have them, but it's interesting to see you’re willing to give them up so easily.” He paused, contemplating. “Tell me, what do you remember of your past? Or up to what time do you remember your past?”
“If you have access to Laxania data, why don't you check my files? I spent all my time in the research lab.” Noah worked on the latest in the technology of intergalactic transport using magic, and he was on the verge of a brea
kthrough. He was close to completing an inter-dimensional shield, which would allow spaceships to transfer from one place to another without using hyperspace, saving them days of travel time.
“Do you remember Tia, your daughter?” He opened another file on his PC, but the picture attached was of some other girl, a much older girl.
“How would I forget her? She is the only reason I live these days. My little princess.” Two blue eyes appeared in his mind's eye. Two large blue eyes that waited for him even on busy days when he reached home pretty late. “Where is she?” Pulses of rage shot through his heart. His body temperature rose. “What did you do to her?”
Suddenly, magic started flowing through his body, strengthening his hands. When enough strength had built up, Noah snapped his right hand free from the chains. But the moment his hand was free, a warning buzzer went off, and ten mages dressed in blue robes with a golden serpent embossed on their chest entered through the white door with spells ready on their palms. Noah knew those robes; the mages were level six and above in power levels, and the serpent symbol indicated they were working for Laxania. Each of them carried a different elemental magic spell—fire orb, water jet, lightning pulse—and all the spells were ready to jump out of their owner’s hand.
It was bad. If he had to fight them all, he might have to go on the defensive and look for an option to run away.
Glass-man ignored them and signaled them to withdraw. “Relax. Tia is fine. She will graduate from the mage academy this summer. She is exceptional, completing her level 5 training while still in the mage academy.”
“Mage college?” Noah locked eyes with the glass-man, searching for a hint of falsehood in those eyes. But there wasn’t any. There was no inflection in his tone, nor he had flinched once. But the pieces didn’t fit together. “Are you kidding me? She is just four years old, and only yesterday I was discussing schools with one of my colleagues, Rose.” Now he remembered where he was last night. He was with Rose, discussing schooling for Tia.
“So, you are missing forty years from your memory. That's a bummer.” The man slammed his hand on top of the documents. There was desperation in his eyes. But why?
Forty years.
Waves of shock rippled across Noah's brain, sending it into a fuzzy state for a moment. “What do you mean by forty years? Isn't this 4018?” His pulse quickened like his life depended on the next answer.
“Nope, mate. It's bright and shiny 4058.”
Noah squeezed his own hand between his teeth, drawing blood.
No, this can't be happening. How can I wake up after forty years?
“You are lying... This is not true. This has to be some kind of prank from Nimi. Am I in some stupid cable show?”
“You wanna talk with her?”
Noah nodded, his heart pounding.
Glass-man tapped on a button, and a holographic feed appeared in front of him. A man's face popped into view. The glass-man gave him some instructions, and the line went silent for a minute.
Nimi's face popped into view suddenly. She squinted at the glass-man in her usual way of meeting new people. She wasn't changed. She looked the same. So it was a prank by someone.
“I told you, man. It's a prank. Look at her, she looks the same.”
Nimi twirled her face towards Noah.
“Is that you, Noah?” She covered her mouth with open palms. Tears streamed from her eyes. “God— Damn, it's really you. Why did you do it, Noah? Why did you go berserk? Why did you kill Peter?”
Noah's anger surged through his veins. He stood, tearing off the second steel chain attached to his left hand. “What the hell is happening here?”
The mages moved forward, circling him with their spells at the ready. Each one was readying a high-level spell, powerful enough to kill.
Magic once again flew into Noah's body, but this time it was coming from his surroundings in the form of darkness energy. His body stiffened as the blackness element imbued his body with strength. They wouldn't be able to kill him easily. He was indestructible against any spell. The darkness energy would save him from everything.
But how did I get this? Ain't I just a lightning mage?
Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. He started losing his control over the magic. It started leaking out of his body.
“Enough of this madness. We are putting you in the game-pod, and we'll talk once you wake up and come to your senses.” The glass-man zipped forward. He tapped on Noah's shoulder, emptying all his magic. Before Noah realized what happened, he was kissing the ground, powerless.
Two mages lifted and carried him to another room. The last thing he remembered was the feeling of cold liquid coating his body, and a mask being forced over his mouth. Shortly after that, the sensation of falling into an unknown depth stole his consciousness.
2. The Room
W ith an intense headache, Noah opened his eyes to bright light from an unknown source and the feeling of a soft cushion beneath his body.
Where am I?
He remained where he was for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the intense light and the headache to fade to a dull roar. But as he closed his eyes again, the memories of mages manhandling him and then dropping him in a liquid pod bubbled up in his mind, rousing his anger.
How could he?
He sat up, realizing his hands were free. One good thing. Pushing his anger aside, he scanned the room. It was similar to the previous room, white and boring. This one too had a table and chair placed in the middle, waiting for him.
Pushing his hands against the ground, he jumped to his feet. It was quite easy. He spotted a difference in himself. His hands felt like new. They’d never felt so alive before. He had shattered a bone in his right hand when he was a kid, and his family hadn’t had enough money to treat him with nanites. He’d treated it once he started earning a good amount of money, but it was too late. Though healed, his hand had always felt pain when he did any physical activity like pushing on it.
Did they cure me?
It was a possibility, if the glass-man was telling the truth. Forty years was enough to find a cure to an age-old issue. But was he really missing forty years of his life? No, he couldn’t trust that man.
Shit! I have to meet Tia, either way.
He put his elbows on the table and dropped his chin in his palms. He needed to focus. Something was amiss here. Forty years? How was that even possible? And the glass-man had also mentioned a game-pod.
What the heck does a game have to do with this?
Someone coughed, breaking his concentration.
Noah cocked his head in the direction of the sound. The glass-man was standing in a corner of the room in the same white robe he’d worn before. But where had he come from? There was no door present in the room.
A shot of anger punched through Noah’s body. He’d been manhandled by Laxania mages, and the glass-man was responsible for it. He jumped to his feet, calling to the magic inside him, but nothing came out.
Come on. Where's my magic?
He focused hard to draw power from his magic reserve, but it wasn’t there. It was as if someone had surgically removed his magical energy from him. He remained a normal human. A useless human.
“What happened to my magic?” Noah screamed from the bottom of his stomach, but the glass-man didn't even flinch. He continued trying to draw out his magic, but after a few minutes of unsuccessful struggle, he finally gave up.
“You keep asking the wrong questions at the wrong time, mate.”
“Stop calling me mate, and where are we?”
The man stepped forward, and a chair appeared below his butt. He sat with one leg crossed on the other. Leaning forward, he locked eyes with Noah. “Let’s make a deal. We answer one question each. If you agree to this, then you get to ask the first question.”
“Okay, first tell me, where am I?”
“In BlackFlame Online.”
“A game, really?” He knew this game. One of his colleagues used to play it,
a full immersion MMORPG. He’d never bothered to play it himself, because he had better things to do.
“It’s my turn.” The glass-man shook his head. “Do you remember the T6890 iteration design?”
“Do you mean T6789? Yes, I remember that.” It was his dream project. He was developing a magic shield for spaceships to allow them to travel through the fourth dimension, a dimension filled with the darkness magical element. Their galaxy was filled with magic, but their fastest travel method was hyperspace travel, which could take days to go from one corner of the universe to another corner. The fourth dimension was another dimension that could reduce this time to minutes, but only a few powerful mages could dare to use it. Well, that would change once his project bore results. “Okay, my turn. Why am I in the game?”
“That’s a complex question. To answer that, I need to answer a couple more questions first.” He paused and waved his hand, bringing a display in existence. “Forty years ago, you completed the T6790 iteration of your project, and then this all started.”
“Forty years.” His lips moved, but no sound came out of them. How could it be true?
A feed played on the screen.
Noah stood in his lab, experimenting on a black crystal. It was a Crystal of Quantum, which could open a door to the fourth dimension. He triggered it, and something flew out of the fourth dimension, wrapping its tendrils around him. He cried out in pain, trying to free himself, but the tendrils continued to devour him until another mage came to the lab and burned the tendrils, along with Noah’s body.
The feed changed.
Now Noah was in a hospital room, lying on a bed. His daughter stood next to him, sobbing in Nimi’s arms.
“God.” Noah rubbed his face. He could only imagine how hard it would have been for his two-year-old daughter to see her father in the hospital, horribly burned.
Noah opened his eyes and said something to Nimi and smiled at his daughter.
The feed changed again.
Noah stood outside the lab. His daughter had come to meet him. She looked older, maybe five or six years.