The Last Warrior of Unigaea Box Set: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure

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by Harmon Cooper


  After introducing all of us, Sam begins: “As representatives of the Obelisk, we would like to meet with Lady Orchid, to discuss a situation in the south that may prove useful to the free peoples of Metica. If this is not possible, please grant us passage to Metica so we can resupply for our journey north.”

  “Lady Orchid is no more,” the city guard says, her voice strong and clear. “Lady Blacknor is now the leader of the free peoples of Metica.”

  “When did this happen?” Lothar asks.

  The city guard ignores the giant as she continues. “Seeing as how you’ve been sent by the Obelisk and you possess information we could use, I will have one of my guards see if Our Lady is available for a meeting this afternoon.” As soon as she says these words, the guard at the back of the pack takes off.

  “We can wait here,” says Lothar.

  The guard places her hands on her hips and looks up to Lothar. “No, all of you will meet Lady Blacknor. We have yet to make contact with anyone from Tael; now is as good a time as any.”

  “I’ve never pictured myself as a unifier of cities, but if the shoe fits … ”

  “Quiet, Lothar,” Deathdale hisses.

  We all turn to the Solar Mage, whose arm is at her side, ready to pull her sword of light from the air if need be.

  “Get your girl under control,” Sam says under her breath.

  My girl? I swallow hard as I make my way over to Deathdale.

  “Hey.”

  The Solar Mage keeps her eyes forward as three more city guards arrive.

  “What?” she asks.

  “Keep your cool, for now. If Lady Blacknor is sympathetic to our cause, she may give us some assistance in taking out the Drachma Killers.”

  She narrows her single eye on me.

  “What’s that look supposed to mean? Use your words, Deathdale.”

  “What happens?”

  “If what?”

  “If we can’t get help.”

  “Then we’ll get mercenaries,” I say under my breath as I shoot one of the Metican warriors a shit-eating grin and a thumbs up.

  “And if no mercenaries?”

  I nod. “Don’t worry. I have a plan. Well, sort of, but we can flesh it out as we ride there. It should be about eight hours’ ride from here. That’s plenty of time to come up with something.”

  Deathdale nods. “And then?”

  “And once we kill them – all of them – we will ride that very night to Tael and meet up with Sam and Lothar in two days’ time. It’s not a stupid idea,” I say just to reassure myself. “The Obelisk knows this was one reason I came north. I want it to be quick – one night, one strike, and then we’re gone.”

  I glance to the ground, suddenly ashamed for my personal quest. Deathdale reaches out to me and touches my arm.

  “You understand the importance of this, right? Even with the Red Plague?”

  “I do.”

  “And you’re still willing to go along?”

  “I am.”

  “Good.”

  After offering Deathdale a firm nod, I walk around Lothar and return to Sam’s side.

  Chapter Fifteen: Lady Blacknor’s Outside Court

  It takes the Metican city guard who left a good hour to return to us. During this time, Lothar continues to talk everyone’s ear off, and like many academics, he never gets the hint that none of us are interested in what he has to say.

  And for me, it isn’t because I can’t understand him, especially with my added points in MIND; no, it has more to do with the fact that there are now twelve city guards on small horses before us, ready to attack at a moment’s notice, led by a woman in head-to-toe armor who has chosen to forgo the half-skirt the others wear.

  It’s times like this I miss the silence of solitude.

  Riding to Tin Ingot the other day, while lonely, did provide an ample amount of time to get lost in my thoughts. Even with Deathdale around, this is possible. With Lothar, impossible – Sam too, as we’ve had banter going between us since we first met.

  Simpler times? This thought brings a smile across my face. Only could a man with a life stained with vengeance and violence look back at a time just before he was to go to war and call it “simple.”

  A mounted Metican gallops towards us, her sword sheathed at her side. I relax a little, knowing that if she were bringing bad news, there would have been some signal to the guards surrounding us.

  She stops before us, her round half-skirt draping from the right side of her small horse. “Lady Blacknor will see you.”

  “Me too?” Lothar asks.

  “Lady Blacknor will hold the meeting in our arena to accommodate your size.”

  “That is very considerate of her.” The ground shakes a bit as Lothar gets back to his feet. He’s been sitting on his meditations box for the last thirty minutes or so, after complaining he was growing tired of standing.

  “Please, follow me.” She turns and the city guards around her fan out, forming a large circle around us. Lothar lifts his meditations box by its handle and holds it over his shoulder. As he takes his first step, Deathdale zips past him propelled by her magic. Sam mounts Wolf and I follow.

  “This should be interesting,” I tell her.

  “Get ready for anything,” Sam replies.

  (^_^)

  We are kept away from the city proper, with its houses built closely together for added warmth. According to Lothar, Metica has thought of an inventive way to keep their homes warm. In the northeast corridor of the city, they have a mansion-sized furnace that constantly burns a special wood known as white log, which has a good heat output and an impossibly slow burn – a single log can burn for two days or more.

  The steam from the boiling water goes through a succession of pipes beneath each of the homes, warming the floor. Now isn’t the season for burning, but it is chilly and soon, the city furnace will kick on.

  “You can smell it for miles,” Lothar says to anyone who will listen. “Since childhood, I’ve recognized the smell of burning white wood in Metica.” He laughs. “That is some scent!”

  Rather than go into the city, we circle around to the left, to a stadium outside the main gates. The stadium is a simple affair and I’d estimate it can hold several thousand people in its stands. It is nothing like the coliseum of Solidus, a grand architectural piece with a famous promenade on its sea-facing side.

  More female guards stand at the entrance to the stadium, forming two lines for us to pass through.

  “This is a bit unexpected,” Lothar says as a cool wind blows up, ruffling his red hair. It’s odd how quickly I’ve grown used to traveling with a giant. I learned pretty early on to stay clear of his feet, not for fear of trampling, but because he can be a bit heavy-footed and the quakes from his steps throw Wolf off.

  Once we enter the arena proper, the sweet smell of blue melon reaches my nose. I glance around, looking for the source.

  “You smell that?” I ask Sam.

  It’s Deathdale’s scent, I think as we continue forward to the center of the arena.

  “Yes,” she says, “but I can’t tell where it’s coming from.”

  “The blue melon fields aren’t far from here,” Lothar calls down to us. He laughs jovially. “They are quite fragrant this time of year.”

  “That’s right,” I say, recalling a time when merchants from Metica would come to Ducat to sell blue-melon-related items.

  We approach a dais at the opposite end of the stadium. Sitting on a throne made of large bones – a nice touch, if I may add – is who I can only assume is the new woman in charge, Lady Blacknor. While her guards and attendants wear white, she wears a sunburst-yellow dress that fades into white at its tips, a dress at odds with the sharp armor and weapons all around her.

  “I thought she’d be wearing black,” I say under my breath to Sam after we’ve gotten off Wolf. “I do like the throne of bones though; that’s something I was hoping to install at the hut before I burnt it down.”

  “
Behave,” she tells me. “Did you just say you burnt it down?”

  “I thought I mentioned that. Long story short: lots of bodies and I needed something to do with them.”

  Sam turns to me. “My body too?”

  “It was a humane way to go! Don’t worry, I didn’t loot your corpse or anything.”

  “Ahem!” Lady Blacknor’s lead attendant, a feeble man with a collar around his neck, steps before her and begins her introduction. “Seated before you is Lady Blacknor, leader of the free people of Metica, the answer to the despair wrought by the former leader of Metica.”

  All those gathered slap their hands against their sides. I glance at Deathdale, who seems completely on edge. She stands on the other side of Lothar, one of her heeled boots slightly in front of the other. My hand naturally finds Wolf’s head – or better, he finds my hand – and I start scratching his ear.

  “Please step forward,” her lead attendant says, “and state for the record who you are and why it is you have come here.”

  Sam tucks her hands in her robes. “I am Sam Raid, and I speak for all of us when I say we have come here for two reasons, the first being to discuss the Red Plague and the second regarding a recent development in southern Unigaea.”

  “I am Oric Rune and this is Wolf Ruffian,” I tell those gathered. “It is an honor to meet you, milady.” I bow my head slightly.

  “I am Lothar Shane,” says the giant. “I met these travelers on my way to Solidus to join academics in understanding the Red Plague.”

  Everyone in the room looks to our final member.

  “I am Deathdale.” The Solar Mage steps forward, offers a full bow, and steps back in line.

  “You may be seated,” Lady Blacknor tells her lead attendant. She returns her cold stare to us. “Who is the leader among you?”

  Lothar and Deathdale look to me, and I look to Sam.

  “Go ahead,” Sam whispers, “but stay classy.”

  I approach Lady Blacknor and bow my head again. “I am the leader. Fearless, I might add.”

  “Oric,” Sam hisses.

  Lady Blacknor’s gaze hardens on me. “Before we discuss the Red Plague, please explain to me what is going on in the southern lands.”

  I clear my throat. “Governor Florin Talonas, of Stater Island, is waging war with the Tagvornins, who have already attacked Tangka, which we,” I nod from Sam to Deathdale, “defended not long ago. Governor Talonas provided the armor for us to defend the city, and he has helped me in other ways, including outfitting me with weapons. But as we’ve come north, we’ve discovered that things aren’t what they seem.”

  “Oh?”

  “Talonas is hardly pious. The entire spectacle has been a false flag, and I seriously doubt if the Tagvornins know they are being misrepresented. You see, I happened upon a convoy of Stater soldiers with wagons that contained Tagvornin armor. They were also riding Tagvornin wolves. I managed to take one of the soldiers aside and I confirmed it for myself – Stater soldiers are disguising themselves as Tagvornins. Also, a group of mercenaries attacked us yesterday and were paid in lira wrapped in sea fruit husks, and only Stater does this. It is a false-flag operation to extend southern hegemony.”

  Lady Blacknor considers this for a moment. Finally, she locks her cold eyes onto me and speaks. “The mercenaries do not concern me. Regarding your other claim, you are saying that Governor Talonas is having his men and possibly others dress as Tagvornins to attack southern cities, are you not? He then defends the cities, and uses the defense of the cities to extend his power.”

  “Yes, milady, and while I don’t have evidence of it yet, I believe he may be behind a meteor attack on Solidus. We were there when it happened,” I say, again nodding my head back to Deathdale. “From what we’ve learned, the meteor shower has nothing to do with the Red Plague. It is something an advanced mage could likely have caused.”

  “I see. And you come to me, aware of the free people of Metica and our allegiances?”

  “Your allegiances?” Lothar asks. “To Tagvornin and the Rune Lands, like Lady Orchid before you.”

  Lady Blacknor bares her teeth as she offers the giant a sinister grin. “I’m afraid you are wrong, giant; our allegiances are to the south, to Governor Talonas. How do you think he got the Tagvornin wolves and the armor? Before the coup d’état that put me in power, I’m the one who sent the armor and weapons to them. We’re the ones – ” She points at the Metican warriors closing in around us. “ – who slaughtered a good many Tags to get the supplies.”

  She stands from her chair and laughs. “Guards, kill them all!”

  Deathdale brandishes her sword of light. Sam’s hands are tucked in her robe; if she feels a fight coming on, she’s showing no signs of it.

  I flourish Splintered Sword and drop to a battle-ready position next to Wolf, who lowers his head, snarling as the guards surround us.

  Chapter Sixteen: Bloody Coronation

  The ground quakes as Lothar comes down hard with both feet, sending shockwaves all around him. The Metican guards closing in on us are thrown off balance, giving me time to spin right with my Splintered Sword.

  “Oric! Throwing knives!” Sam shouts, her wand cast before her and pointed directly at Lady Blacknor. I look to her and she nods insistently as pink magic swirls around her wand. “Do it!”

  “Got it!” I grab the handle of one of my knives and with one fluid gesture, pull back and launch it at Lady Blacknor. I miss my target, her heart, but the knife does graze the side of her exposed arm.

  -13 HP!

  “Metastasize wound!” A blistering pink blast from Sam’s wand strikes Lady Blacknor and everyone, including Deathdale and Wolf, glance up to the dais.

  “What … what have you done?” A look of horror spreads across the Metican leader’s face as the wound turns green and the infection spreads up her body. White magic swirls around the wrists of her nearest male attendant. Sigils appear in the air as he tries to heal her, all to no avail.

  The wound spreads, grows with infection, boiling pus, as it moves up her shoulder and to her chest.

  Lady Blacknor drops to her knees.

  Blood appears in the whites of her eyes as the infection spreads further across her body, her sunburst yellow clothes withering away. “Kill … them … ” she says through parched lips. “Kill … them … all.”

  Instakill!

  Lady Blacknor falls face first onto the dais.

  “Holy shit, Sam!”

  Sam lowers her wand, slightly out of breath now. “I can’t cast any more magic until the hourglass finishes,” she says, pink energy evaporating off her weapon of choice. I see the antique hourglass necklace and the sand slowly falling from the top to the bottom.

  The ground shakes again and this time it isn’t Lothar. A group of city guards come galloping into the arena. They carry harpoons with ropes attached, clearly meant to take down the giant.

  “Lothar, protect Sam!”

  “How?”

  Fuck me, I think as I whistle for Wolf. “Kill them if they get near her, dammit! You’re bigger than them! Fight back, dammit!”

  “But I’m a … ”

  I ignore the bleeding-heart giant as Wolf comes around. I hop on, keeping low as we go to meet the incoming guards. We juke them out just in time and move around to their side, Wolf putting the SPEED points I gave him to good use.

  We loop around and go for the wrecking-ball approach.

  As we advance on them, as those with pikes turn towards us, I drop one arm around Wolf’s neck and lower both legs on one side of his body. “Faster!” I say as I try not to choke him, my weight pulling him to the side a bit.

  I let go and both feet hit the ground running. I launch myself forward, propelled by digital physics. Wolf skids to the right just as I fly in the air with my blade drawn at the first warrior female.

  -169 HP! Critical hit!

  Her arm comes off at the elbow, my knee cracks against her horse’s skull, and I bring them both down, caus
ing a small amount of injury to myself.

  A beam of solid light cuts through the battlefield.

  Deathdale’s blazing eyepatch attack partially vaporizes six of the mounted female warriors and their horses. The parts the light doesn’t touch are left smoldering, crackling as they burn to a crisp.

  Gruesome. A quick glance over my shoulder, and I see Deathdale with energy charging around her. Meanwhile, Lothar stands in front of Sam, his attackers closing in.

  Deathdale turns to them, two scorpion tails of light forming out of her lower back.

  Wolf slams into a woman just about to stab me with her pike. -69 HP! -74 HP! - 85 HP! He tears at her neck, spritzing the air with blood.

  I go to meet another female warrior holding a harpoon. She eyes me fearlessly, a large dagger in her hand just as a horn sounds off in the distance.

  I glance up to the corners of the arena, the foreboding crimson sky overhead.

  More are on the way.

  I swipe at the warrior before me with my Splintered Sword, hoping to finish this one quickly. She parries left, lunges at me with a dagger – her attack stopped by my Stater armor – and rolls away.

  Wolf barks as the guards who weren’t fried by Deathdale’s beam of death-light form a circle around me. A few have pikes; others have short swords. Their horses neigh as they close in, ready to kick their legs up.

  “Give up now,” says the lead woman, whom I recognize as the heavily armored city guard who greeted us on the city limits. She brandishes two swords. “You won’t win this fight.”

  “We didn’t come here to fight you,” I say, spitting blood. “It is Lady Blacknor who is to blame for all this.”

  The lead guard’s lips curl. “How dare you mention her by name, Player Killer filth!”

  “You aren’t going to win this one, so let me give you a little advice,” I say as I catch my breath. “If you’re the toughest of the Metican warriors, use it to your advantage. Your people damn sure need a leader, especially now. So take charge.”

 

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