Fighter Awakens in the Naughty World

by Reed James

  Flanking the leader, Feverblight, stood two more cultists. Each stood at an end of the altar wearing torn, black robes. The glimpses of their pallid flesh through the rents in their vestments revealed long gashes that bled bright scarlet. Each held their own sacrificial daggers but held low. Blood dripped from the sinuous blades.

  “They are moments from completing their foul ritual!” Dëshoma shouted.

  “Hey!” I roared. “If you think I'm going to let you mar those perfect tits for your moldering god, you're fucking shit-stained idiots!” I marched forward as the cultists turned to face me.

  The leader hissed, scraggly, white hair spilling out of the dark shadows of his hood. He let out a wheezing breath and black vapor spilled out, a thick smog that hung in the air before him. It took me a moment to realize he was laughing.

  “We're going to tear you a new asshole,” I growled. “I'm Marcus Aurelius, defender of the weak, champion of maidens, and my ax is going to chop your head off. The last thing you'll see in your miserable life is my boot planted on your own spasming corpse.”

  “We art here to challenge thy corruption of this pure and fertile temple, knave!” Dëshoma called out.

  “The angel's whelp,” Feverblight hissed. “Your blood shall be offered to Rūzem. To think you so willingly brought yourself into my power. Your impotent father will not stop my blade from cutting out your virgin heart.”

  “I'm afraid I already plucked that,” I said. “So, you want to just fall to your knees and let us behead you, or are you going to make us work for it?”

  “Pissant boy!” Black fog spilled from his robe while Dëshoma began casting Divine Weapon and Kulri Arcane Shield. “I shall enjoy watching you die choking on my foul breath. Lord Rūzem promised me her virgin blood.”

  “You can try sucking my cock. Might still be some on there.”

  Dëshoma's bible touched my shoulder. Her spell rushed down me and into my weapon. It burst with brilliant light. It spilled over me. I glanced at Maria. She nodded her head, her green eyes full of trust. Beyond, I spotted Kulri eating some sort of purple bread.

  We Yelled and charged, my Flamedust Boots activating. Fire rushed up my body and joined the glow on my ax.

  Kulri chanted behind us, “Let the mystical energies gather in me and explode in a burst of deadly power!”

  “Hack them to pieces!” Feverblight snarled.

  Right before the cultists rushed from their boss, a burst of purple, arcane energy exploded around the three of them. Robes fluttered. Smoke rose as all three hissed, taking the first blast of Kulri's attack. Twist laughed and Vanished.

  “Maria, you grab the adds!” I shouted. “The two lesser cultists!” I added, realizing she probably wouldn't know MMO raiding terms. “I got Feverblight!”

  “On it, Marcus!” she shouted and changed direction as she rushed for the nearest add. Light burst from her breastplate bikini as she activated it. Her sword stabbed hard into the cultist, the man screaming.

  “Dëshoma, support her!” I shouted. “Kulri, focus-fire them down. Twist, back me up!”

  “Sounds fun!”

  “Coming straight to your death!” Feverblight snarled as I closed the distance. His eyes sparkled. “Let Rūzem's ruination fall upon you!”

  A streak of crackling, black energy that hissed with rot shot over my head. Kulri gasped behind me. I sensed her HP dwindling. She took damage and now a DOT devoured her Hit Points. Anger chanted in her spell-casting.

  “You're fighting me, bastard!” I growled, fury surging through me. I reached Feverblight. He stood a foot taller than me even with his hunchback, his right shoulder bulging from his deformities.

  My Hard Strike swung in. He swiped his dagger down to block. I struck it and knocked it out of the way. My ax crashed into his ribs. A hard hit, divine light and fire bursting from my weapon. I felt the shivering impact of a crit, my Bloody Bronze Ax finding what it craved.

  “Yes!” he groaned in ecstatic delight. More black vapor burst from his shadowed hood. I could see only the shape of a twisted face in the darkness. “Rot in Rūzem's black breath!”

  The man drew in a deep breath as I slammed another attack into his side. Then he exhaled. A thick cloud of greasy black engulfed me. It spilled in an arc around him, engulfing the ground before him and around me. My skin sizzled, devouring my Hit Points, a fierce DOT blazing through them. My arms spasmed, muscles twitching as the rotting breath poured into my skin.

  “Fucking cock-sucking asshole!” I snarled and swung hard at him.

  Missed, my spasming arm letting him twist out of the way.

  He laughed and slashed at me with his knife. I moved my shield up, but not in time. He was fast. His sacrificial knife slammed into my chest, spearing through my bronze chainmail. The pain punched into my lungs.

  Twist appeared as she thrust, ramming her dagger deep into his back. Feverblight snarled in pain, arching. She must have Kidney Shot him, her strongest attack. It didn't have a bleeding DOT like Blood Strike did.

  He turned and slashed at her, his dagger hacking through the air. Twist hissed and twisted, but the blade cut across her right shoulder and down her chest, almost slicing into her breast. Scales parted, blood spilling over her right tit.

  “Rūzem's greasy touch!” she hissed.

  “You dare mock my god!” growled Feverblight.

  I slammed my second Hard Strike crashing into his back. My weapon's blade buried deep into the muscles, divine light bursting bright. His robes sizzled from the fire burning across my ax. Brackish blood spurted. He snarled and twisted back around as I yanked my ax out, redrawing aggro.

  * * / *

  Maria battled the two lesser cultists. She darted her shield from left to ride, trying to block their attacks as they rushed at her. Marcus had given her orders, so she would keep their focus. She would fight them, her sword slashing out, cutting into their flesh.

  Not the best wounds, but they were fixated on her, their eyes brimming with rage. Their black rods fluttered, exposing the bloody wounds across their bodies in the gaping rents. Their knives slashed at her. She couldn't block them all.

  Pain throbbed across the cuts on her arms. Her belly. Blood dripped down her thighs. Her shield thudded with impacts. Even with her dazzling breastplate, the light dancing over their faces, they were finding hits on her flesh.

  A third Arcane bolt struck the first cultist, slamming into the side of his head. The bursts of purple energy burned across his face, melting its nose into ruin. Maria snarled. She plunged her sword at that one, needing to keep its attention focused on her.

  Her Hard Strike struck with power, punching her short sword deep into his chest. He snarled and then shoved his free hand into his robe. He scooped up the blood and then threw it in a streak at her. Blood hissed out in a spray.

  It splashed over Maria. The droplets all burned on her skin. A chunk of her Hit Points evaporated. Maria gasped and staggered. She raised her shield against the pain, struggling to block the other's dagger attack.

  He slipped it through her guard and buried it into her ribs. Pain exploded through Maria. The crit dropped her into low Hit Points. She groaned, struggling to stand against the pain. But she had to. She had to keep fighting.

  * * / *

  Dëshoma gasped from the pain of the blood spray that hit her. Then she realized Maria was in danger. She staggered, a dagger buried deep in her side. Through the mystical connection of being in the same party, the priestess sensed Maria's danger.

  “Lady Maria!” she gasped, drawing in her divine power. She ignored her own pain and thrust her bible into the girl's back. Healing energy rushed out of her and flooded into her companion's body.

  “Thanks!” Maria shouted, straightening.

  “My pleasure to serve!” she said.

  An arcane bolt slammed into the cultist. He screamed and collapsed, twitching on the ground. One more follower of Rūzem had fallen. A surge of triumph shot through Dëshoma. She thrust her bible aga
inst Maria's back again, healing more of her wounds. Cuts melted from the human's flesh, leaving only the streaks of blood.

  * * / *

  Kulrigiizhai felt nothing as she gathered her arcane energy for her next attack. She fought in a calm, the stresses floating out beyond her awareness. Fear did not help in battle. Nor did anger. Passions merely distracted.

  She held her White Alder Staff in her hand, channeling her arcane power through it. She shifted targets to the second lesser cleric fighting against Maria. The human female blocked a strike and swiped her sword before her, cutting deep into him, focusing him on her. Dëshoma moved behind the warrior, her bright red a beacon on the battlefield.

  “Let the mystical energy flow out of me,” the elf chanted, the Elf Bread she'd eaten allowing her to speak the words of her spell with greater alacrity, the purple flax which made up its flour focusing her mind, “and explode in an arcane bolt!”

  The energy shot from her staff and surged through the air. The purple power crashed into the shoulder of the cultist. He hissed and then bellowed something in his harsh words. A name. Rūzem. His dark god.

  Kulrigiizhai began her next chant, her MP dwindling with each one.

  Maria shouted and swiped a hard attack at the cultist as he suddenly dodged around her. Dëshoma gasped as the cultist slashed at her. The girl had hardly any defenses. No armor but thin cloth. The dagger hit her hard. It tore a deep cut across her stomach, ripping through her red habit. Her halo flickered as she staggered.

  Her Hit Points dropped into the critical.

  Kulri finished her spell and slammed another arcane bolt into him.

  Dëshoma clutched her bible to her chest. Divine energy wreathed around it, flowing into her wound and healing her. She staggered, panting, while Maria slammed her shield into the cultist, battering his arm back.

  His weapon fell from his hand and her sword stabbed into him.

  The battle was going well there. Kulrigiizhai now glanced at Marcus Aurelius and Twist, surveying their fight. Blood dripped down his armor. He staggered and the elf realized his Hit Points were getting low. He swung his ax, hitting Feverblight hard.

  A dagger struck him in the neck.

  Kulrigiizhai gasped in alarm. He hardly had any Hit Points left. Dëshoma was nowhere near him. Her ears wiggled in fright. Her heart seized. She didn't know what to do. He had ordered her to take down the other cultist, but he was about to die. The cult leader did not look anywhere near death.

  Whimpering, Kulrigiizhai froze, her spell faltering on her lips.

  What should I do?

  Chapter Twenty-One: Cult of Ruin

  “Motherfucker,” I gasped, the crit taking me down. I staggered as the knife flew in again. This cock-sucker hit like a truck.

  I was nearing death.

  “Marcus!” Iris cried out, sounding panicked.

  I had to disrupt his attacks and get an opening to heal. My life hung on the line. My heart beat so fast. I'd never felt more alive than this moment. The danger surged exhilaration through me. I couldn't panic. I knew that if I died, that this was it. I would leave this world. Maybe I'd go back to the drudgery of my real life. Maybe it would be the end.

  Finito.

  I wasn't about to give this up.

  I roared as I slammed a Disarm at Feverblight. I struck his dagger with my weapon and knocked it to the ground in mid-slash. He hissed and had to scramble to grab it. I kicked it away. He turned, reaching a scabrous hand for it.

  I sheathed my ax and ducked my hand into my pouch. He seized his dagger and spat black mist. Hissing at me, he slashed in. I ripped out one of my Potions of Diluted Angel Passion and tossed it back. I gulped down the favorable essence of an angel's cream. I savored it, the rush of Hit Points pouring back into me

  It wasn't one of Dëshoma's heals, but it was enough to get me out of the red.

  I blocked the attack on my shield. His sacrificial dagger scraped across the wood. He growled at me. I grinned and drew my ax. In a single motion, I buried it into his leg. Brackish blood spurted from the wound.

  * * / *

  Twist danced behind the cult leader. Her attacks plunged into him, but he wasn't going down. She had dealt enough wounds to kill a dozen men, but dark powers animated the cultist. She could almost believe the gods were real.

  Something possessed the bastard.

  Marcus held his attention, leaving the rogue free to backstab. She'd burned through her TP and was down to just regular melee attacks. Her Kidney Shots and Blood Strikes hadn't been the one-two KO she was used to.

  “Rūzem's greasy touch!” she growled as Marcus drank a healing potion. His Hit Points rose, but they were still near critical. He had skill. She would have been dead already. He weathered the attacks, another barrage of knife strikes that chipped into the wood of his metal-banded shield.

  She had enough TP for one last strike. Marcus took a hard cut to his face. Blood spurted. He grinned and slashed with his flaming, glowing ax. He buried it into the enemy's chest while her poniard stitched death across his back.

  Feverblight inhaled. His last black breath had devoured Marcus's Hit Points.

  Can't let him die, thought Twist. Haven't got to enjoy that cock fully. Seizing on her selfish motivation, she delivered a blow and burned the last of her TP.

  “Hey, you butt-munching cultist, how bad does Rūzem's cum taste to make your breath corrosive?” she cried out, activating her newest skill: Distraction. Learned at Level 7, it opened up the enemy, disrupting their attacks and guaranteeing a double damage hit would land with her next blow.

  He twisted around and growled, “I do not suck my god's—”

  Her dagger rammed into his side. Her poniard hit deep, striking organs. She felt the strength of the blow, reveled in the blood spurting out and splashing on her crimson scales. He growled, furious gusts of black mist bursting from his lips.

  “Maybe he'd rather take it up the ass from his god!” Marcus roared and slammed his ax into the cultist's side. “Even a god throws a pity fuck every now and then.”

  The cultist swirled around. “Pity fuck!”

  “Yeah, you're such a disgusting, twisted thing, I bet it's hard to get the ladies to enjoy you.” Marcus laughed. “I mean, you had to kidnap those cuties and they still turned you down.”

  “They must be virgins for the sacrifice!”

  “Riiiiight, that's why their hymens are intact,” Marcus said with mocking sincerity. “That's the excuse why you haven't got your dick wet!”

  Twist laughed as the cultist unleashed another flurry on Marcus.

  You're getting your dick wet if you can stay alive, the rogue thought.

  * * / *

  Dëshoma ignored the burning blood. She had healed most of her damage and topped off Maria's Hit Points. The human warrior's sword flashed and slashed. Marcus's Hit Points rose, relieving some of the angelborn's anxiety.

  Kulri's faltering chants rose back up as Dëshoma monitored the battle. Marcus needed her healing. A potion was a stopgap. He still was low. Hovering around a quarter of his life. Twist was doing better at three-quarters.

  An arcane bolt slammed into the lesser cultist and he groaned. Staggered back. Maria shouted and slashed with her sword, cutting three wounds into his chest. Fast and hard. The cultist groaned and then collapsed with his friend, twitching on the ground.

  Marcus's Hit Points fell again. Feverblight shouted and roared in fury. His sacrificial dagger fell fast while Marcus...

  Is he laughing? Dëshoma blinked. Her party leader, the handsome and dashing Lord Marcus, laughed and mocked Feverblight, taking his ire and holding it allowing the disagreeable Twist to thrust her dagger again and again, biting into the back of the foul cult leader.

  Dëshoma rushed across the battlefield to help out Marcus. He needed healing, and Dëshoma held nothing back. The cult leader straightened, his chest rising, his hunchback swelling again.

  “Get clear, Marcus!” Twist hissed. “I can't use Distractio
n again.”

  “He'll hit you!” Marcus shouted. “I can weather it.”

  Dëshoma pushed herself to her limits to reach her party leader. The cultist took a deep breath. His black breast burst out in a cone, rippling out five yards. It engulfed Marcus in noxious fumes before spilling over him and sweeping into Dëshoma who stood at the edge.

  She screamed at the caustic vapor devouring her clothing. It ate at her red habit and chewed holes in her stockings. Her Hit Points dropped. The corrosive breath clung to her, burning her flesh, sapping away more of her Hit Points. Marcus's had dropped into the critical from the initial hit—with his low HP, the corrosion would slay him.

  “Lady Ëshuxeri!” she cried out to her Goddess and thrust her bible out before her. The divine energy rushed through her, consuming some of her MP as she channeled the power of the Goddess of Love. White light flared from her red bible.

  It touched Marcus's back moments before he dropped.

  His Hit Points surged back up.

  “My lady!” he growled and slashed back, hammering the enemy.

  “Lord Marcus!” she gasped in relief. She drew on more of her MP and delivered another Healing Touch to her party leader, raising his Hit Points past half-full.

  To her right, Maria charged in, her breastplate dazzling light across Feverblight's dark robes. Her bronze short sword slashed a deep furrow across his hip. An Arcane Bolt slammed into Feverblight while Twist's dagger plunged into his back.

  “Thou shalt fall, foul servant of Rūzem!” cried Dëshoma, exhilaration surging through her.

  Feverblight laughed, black breath spilling from his hooded face.

  * * / *

  Relief beat through Kulrigiizhai. Marcus Aurelius had survived. She could focus again. Throw out her Arcane Bolts. Her lips chanted the phrase as the rest of the party converged on Feverblight. Maria fought to the right, Dëshoma behind Marcus Aurelius, there to support their party leader.

  Her Arcane Bolt surged through the air. The spell, though Level 1, had been upgraded several times to increase its damage. It slammed into the cult leader's head. He burst into laughter, reveling in the pain that the spell caused him.