Sixth Realm Part 2: A litRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 7)

by Michael Chatfield

  There was one way up to their rooms. Kanoa watched downstairs while Miller was upstairs. If they were attacked, Miller would wake everyone and escape out the windows. They had scouted the area and found three routes, pressing them into the brains of their charges.

  The people under his care had changed a lot from who and what they were before. They would think he and Miller were alarmists before; now they accepted what they were saying and thought of their surroundings as they did. Back on Earth, they could just be civilians, but here in the Ten Realms, where the powerful ruled and stole from others, there was no such security.

  He had trained boys and girls into iron-face soldiers. He had little mercy for those who complained and whined because they were uncomfortable, too used to their leisure lifestyles. He was a hard man, but they needed a hard man.

  Certainly didn’t make any friends that way. Kanoa grinned and took another tiny sip of his beer.

  The tavern owner walked to the door and opened it. Kanoa looked over his mug. His dark eyes flickered to the two men who entered. His nose flared as the two men scanned the room and locked onto him.

  Fighters—they’re spacing to cover each other.

  His eyes flicked to the tavern owner, who closed the door. He didn’t lock it, Kanoa noticed, and headed into the back of the tavern, closing the door behind him.

  The two men pulled off their hats and cloaks.

  Kanoa’s eyes widened and then thinned, staring at the all-too-familiar carriers covered in magazines, tools, and with patches on the front that denoted blood type and units.

  “So, who did you serve with? I was with the Marines—United States, of course,” Rugrat said.

  “A hello would have worked,” the other man said.

  The marine shrugged.

  Kanoa held his crossbow at the ready under the table, his thoughts in a mess.

  “My name is Erik West. This fine redneck creation is Jimmy Rodriguez, but we call him Rugrat. We served together. I’m an army medic—yeah, I know, weird, but I’m guessing you know how the military works, based on your boots. We landed here—three, nearly four, years ago. Got the Two-Week Curse when we were working a security contracting gig in Africa. Got shipped back stateside and then to wherever the hell this is.” Erik grabbed a seat and straddled it. Rugrat did the same.

  “You got anything to prove it?” Kanoa asked.

  “Sure, but don’t shoot me.” Erik pulled a cell phone out of thin air. He tossed it onto the table. He kept away, not crowding Kanoa.

  Kanoa grabbed the cell phone and looked it over. “Shit. What do you want?”

  “We want you to help train up our fighting forces. The people under your protection can study in our academies, though they’ll need to pay for it. Tuition costs did follow us over, unfortunately,” Erik said.

  “I worked my way up to Captain One-oh-One, Airborne,” Kanoa said. “How do I know you’re not slavers or will sell me to Ikku?”

  “Well, if Ikku saw us walking around here with this gear, she would probably try to capture us too. We can make an oath on the Ten Realms, if you want,” Erik said.

  “Don’t shoot me,” Rugrat said.

  Kanoa eyed him as a rifle appeared in Rugrat’s hand.

  He held it by the barrel and threw it on the table with a heavy thud that made everyone wince. Rugrat pulled a magazine from his carrier and tossed it over as well.

  Kanoa pulled out his crossbow, keeping it aimed at the two. He had his right hand on the bow and used his left to turn the rifle over. It was rough but looked to be based off the FAL. He pulled back on the cocking handle, checked the chamber, and studied the mechanisms inside.

  He checked that the barrel was clear and the firing pin was there. He released the cocking handle and aimed the gun away, dry firing it with a satisfying click.

  Kanoa kept an eye on the two men as he checked the magazine and the rounds inside before slapping it into the rifle and pulling back on the cocking handle. He loaded a round into the rifle.

  Still, he held his hand on his crossbow, not trusting a weapon he hadn’t disassembled personally.

  “Where were you based? Where did you serve, and what is your name? Don’t want to be calling you Cap throughout.” Erik grinned.

  “Kanoa Nalani, from Hawaii.”

  “Hawaii is pretty far from Kentucky,” Rugrat said.

  “The island boy wanted to jump out of planes. My parents weren’t best pleased when I signed up.” Kanoa relaxed some more. “You make this?” He pointed at the rifle.

  “Yeah.” Rugrat nodded. “The firearms from Earth work in the lower realms but need stronger materials to handle the powerful rounds and powder we use. Also integrated them with formations to increase their force output.”

  “I think I know what might make you trust us—another gun.” Erik pulled out another rifle. Erik unloaded it and racked it back twice, ejecting the loaded round before he turned the rifle around.

  Kanoa realized that he didn’t feel threatened as Erik cleared the weapon, seeing the rote functions that had been burned into the other man’s brain.

  Erik stood and extended the rifle. “She’s my personal. Been through a lot with her.”

  Kanoa took the butt of the rifle. His increased strength since arriving in the Ten Realms allowed him to hold it easily. Erik retreated, and Kanoa pulled the AR platform rifle back.

  “Shoots a six-point eight round. AR platform uses the piston system—keeps it operating for longer—with an ACOG mounted on the top and a red dot on the side rail. I had to mark in the red dot because it doesn’t work in the Ten Realms,” Erik said as if he was detailing the features of a car.

  Kanoa looked at the HK on the side of the magwell and turned it over. “German engineering—can’t beat it.” Kanoa smiled and pointed his crossbow in another direction.

  “Okay, so I’ll listen.” Kanoa’s smile faded, and he peeked at the two men with a cold face.

  “If you trust your people, we will supply you all with plate carriers, magazines, and rifles. Gear that you can use and defend yourselves with if we fuck with you. Then we come to an agreement. At the very least, hear our pitch. We’ll smoke screen Ikku, and get you on your way,” Rugrat said.

  “How the hell did she capture you anyway?” Erik asked.

  “Welcome to the Ten Realms quest. We went looking for a totem and were in her territory. She had some people from Earth, knew the stories about people coming from new places. She acted all nice. Then she tried to get us into contracts that would basically bind us to her forever as her slaves. Didn’t like that idea much and got the hell out of there before she knew we knew something was fucked,” Kanoa said.

  “Shit, ours took us to a totem as well. If Chonglu was more of a bastard…” Rugrat trailed off.

  “Lucked out, man,” Erik said. “We’ll need oaths that you will never tell anyone where you got the gear or anything about us or our organization. Nothing more unless you want to join Alva.”

  Kanoa’s eyes narrowed. “Guess I’m going to have to trust you. You must have some pull and power to get this tavern under your control.”

  “Tip of the iceberg,” Erik said. “First, something to assure you. I, Sergeant Erik West, swear on the Ten Realms that I am from the United States of America, Earth. I wish to assist you and your people and will not harm you and your people unless you are actively trying to harm me or my comrades. If I break my oath, then might the Ten Realms strike me down.”

  A golden glow wrapped around Erik.

  Rugrat followed with the exact oath, and the golden glow fell away.

  “You want to come down from the stairs now?” Rugrat turned to the stairs.

  There was a noise, and a moment later, Miller walked down the last few stairs, holding his crossbow. “How did you—?”

  “Ten Realms. There’s a lot of tricks you can learn. Now, how about this cooperation?” Rugrat smiled.

  Things moved quickly then. Kanoa told them everything he knew about their enemy.
Then they formulated a plan, utilizing the support of Erik and Rugrat’s people.

  A masked woman entered the tavern. She listened to Erik and Rugrat and went off to prepare everything.

  “Okay, now we just have to convince the other groups,” Kanoa said as the door closed behind her.

  “Your people are in these places.” Erik pulled out some paper and passed it to Kanoa.

  Their information network was quick and efficient. In less than a night, they knew who they were and where they were staying, as well as the leadership. Kanoa was interested to see what they have done.

  Kanoa spent the night going from one tavern and inn to another. Erik and Rugrat had given him rifles, and he passed them out. At the first tavern, he took one apart completely. It was a crude weapon, but it functioned and there were no traps embedded inside.

  “Are you sure about them?” Badowska said in his thick Russian accent.

  Kanoa stopped thinking on the duo and snorted. “You know, some shit you just can’t fake. Down to their bones, they’re soldiers. I trust them.”

  “Okay,” Badowska said. That was enough for him. They had been on opposite sides on Earth, but here, they were two guys in the same foxhole. When the shit hit the fan, they’d banded together and fought side by side. It was a quick and dirty bond that was as strong as steel.

  Kanoa patted Badowska, thankful for the other man’s trust.

  Erik and Rugrat remained in the tavern, though Roska and her people who had been protecting them from outside the tavern were now posted up inside.

  “I’ve got some of my people watching. No one in the surrounding area thinks that anything is different.” Roska shared a table with them. They were eating soup with bread the tavern owner had made.

  “Looks like everything is ready,” Rugrat said.

  “Everything is going smoothly. Some real clandestine, secret spook shit.” Erik snorted and dipped his bread into his warm soup, soaking up the juices.

  “I didn’t realize it earlier, but Queen Ikku used to be my queen. Alva Village was within her domain,” Roska said. “Never thought I would be running an operation to hide escapees from my ex-queen.”

  “We live in a weird world,” Rugrat said.

  Roska grunted as she ate her soup.

  “How long until Ikku’s people reach the Beast Mountain Range?” Rugrat asked.

  “A day or two, I think.”

  “We got to them just in time then,” Rugrat said. “They’ll ship out with the traders in the morning, spread out over the outposts, and split Ikku’s forces. It’ll get them nice and confused. Get them to disappear into the forests. The traces will be spread across the Beast Mountain Range. With our agents creating ‘spottings’ of the group across the First Realm, Ikku’s forces will be dogs without a scent.”

  Lord Salyn gritted his teeth. The rain from last night had continued into the day, and he and his men were covered in mud. A third of them rode on mounts, and the others did their best to catch up.

  The group of nearly a hundred people slowed as they reached the outpost gates.

  “Move aside in the name of Queen Ikku of the Shikoshi Kingdom!” Salyn demanded.

  People moved out of the way while complaining in low voices that they were forced to do so.

  A whistle went up along the wall. The outpost guards readied their weapons; those on the higher walls readied their bows and spears for anything.

  Salyn sneered as he touched his blade. He had chased Ikku’s helpers across half the empire and through three forests before reaching the Beast Mountain Range. The group was slippery and smart; even with non-fighters, they were able to make fake trails and keep ahead of Salyn and his people. They had even counterattacked and scared off their mounts, forcing most of their forces to run on foot.

  They were at a boiling point, and now some worthless outpost thought they stood a chance against his fighters.

  An outpost guard stepped forward. “Please wait for your turn to enter. The auction is still some days away. There is no need to have a problem,” he said comfortably.

  “Who cares about your auction? Tell your lord that I am here with the full force of Queen Ikku’s power. We are tracking saboteurs who attacked the queen. Step aside or do not blame me for my actions!” Lord Salyn pulled his blade out and held it at his side, facing the guard.

  His own force moved, ready for a fight if it happened.

  “Let us not be rash. My lord should be here soon,” the guard said.

  “He best have an explanation for why he stops Queen Ikku’s personal force!” Salyn roared.

  A few minutes later, Salyn heard armored soldiers marching. The gates opened wide, and a tanned man wearing gear better that Salyn’s own walked out. He wore a smile, as if greeting his best friend on a sunny day. Each of his guards wore their own high-level, custom armor, fanning out to protect him.

  Why couldn’t he sense their level? And how could there be people this strong in a backwater like this?

  Salyn’s wariness increased as his eyes scanned the walls, then focused on the outpost lord.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Salyn hissed. “You dare to stand in the way of the envoy of Queen Ikku?”

  “I do not know of queens or envoys, my lord. I am sorry. I am just an outpost lord. It seems that there is an issue here. If you want to enter the outpost, you will have to pay the fee. If you are wanting to go to the auction, you can go around and take the road to King’s Hill if you do not want to enjoy our hospitality. I am sorry, but we live off trade, and, currently, you are holding up the traders.” The lord held out his hands to the traders and people waiting to enter the outpost.

  “I have been sent to track down and capture a group of people who attacked Queen Ikku. If you stand in my way, you will face the power of her wrath,” Lord Salyn said.

  The outpost lord’s smile didn’t falter, but it gained an edge as the placating and easy smile of a simple man never changed. “I am but an outpost lord, but this is an outpost of the Beast Mountain Range and the King’s Hill Alliance.”

  The guards behind the lord and those on the wall unsheathed their weapons in one movement, ready to attack in a moment.

  “The kingdom of Thilu’s Lord Russo stood where you were some days ago, demanding as you did. He lost the right to enter the Beast Mountain Range and lost three-quarters of his forces. He didn’t reach our walls.” The lord chuckled and opened his arms. His face didn’t change, but a dominating air came from his body and the guards behind him.

  Salyn’s eyes constricted, feeling their strength wash over him. Many of the guards were stronger than his own elites, who had been riding for weeks. These guards had just woken up after a good night’s rest.

  He bit back his words, putting on a smile and sheathing his sword. “I am sorry about my actions. It was unbefitting of me. My men and I are tired and tense. We have been on the road and away from civilization too long. I hope you can forgive my sharp and unruly tongue.” Salyn bowed his head to the lord.

  “Ah, we all have had those days. I hope you can find those you search for.” The lord’s smile had never changed throughout the conversation, making Salyn feel a mix of rising fury and a chill.

  Salyn had his people put their weapons away, and the guards on the walls did the same. Salyn paid the fee and entered the outpost.

  “Drev, find me those saboteurs as fast as possible. I will find some food,” Salyn said to his second-in-command.

  “Yes, my lord.” Drev saluted.

  Salyn headed to find somewhere warm, dry, and with something to eat with his personal guards as Drev coordinated the search inside the outpost.

  Salyn sat in a private room eating, when Drev came to make his report.

  “We have found traces of the targets. It looks like they came into the city in several groups and from different ways. This morning, they all left by different means. We are two days behind them, though they didn’t all go in the same direction and separated out, taking different ca
ravans to other outposts.”

  “Your thoughts?”

  “Some groups headed toward King’s Hill. It is a super-outpost that has reached a population equivalent to a city. To reach it, one needs to pass through the Beast Mountain Range. It is a hard journey. If one is to leave the path, there is no guarantee one could survive long.”

  Salyn looked through the window. “Where did the strong Experts we saw on the wall come from?”

  “They are part of the Beast Mountain Range guards. They were trained in King’s Hill. The outposts banded together after a large fight and created an alliance. King’s Hill is their center and connects them all. The outpost leaders put forward their own guards to join the new guard unit. They come from all the outposts, making them a neutral party in outpost conflicts. They are well-trained and supported.”

  “How has a backwater group of guards become so powerful?” Salyn’s eyes were sharp as they cut to Drev.

  “The Beast Mountain Range is a place of peril. There are many mercenary groups who put their lives on the line to earn a living here. They are rough men and women, but due to the constant fighting and high pay, if they succeed, they become very strong. Some of them become guards who must weather beast tides, protect traders and their outposts, and give justice. Although the mercenaries are strong, the guards must be even stronger to suppress them or else the outposts would have been taken over by a mercenary band. It has happened before. The best of these guards were pulled together, given powerful training aids, and gained discipline, creating a structure that allow the guards to fully employ their strength.”

  “So, all of the outposts are controlled by them?”

  “No, each outpost has its own guards. The Beast Mountain Range guards are just support and rotating guards. They protect the roads and support the local outpost units, if necessary.”

  “Sounds like you respect them,” Salyn asked.

  “They live in a hard place. The guards are as strong as I am, but they work for the King’ Hill Alliance and are organized into a true army. Calling them guards is to underestimate them; they are true warriors.”

  “So, it will be hard or nearly impossible for us to force the locals to help us.” Salyn smacked the table in frustration. He stood and moved to the window. “The routes other than the one to King’s Hill—what are they like?”