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

by Michael Chatfield

  A group of people left, and a young, tanned girl appeared.

  “Sorry for the wait. Your table is ready,” the girl said to the people first in line and smiled.

  This was the Fourth Realm. There weren’t even any guards around. Restaurant? He had heard they could make food that would return Stamina over a longer period compared to the potions. Must be my lucky day to find this place. All those mana stones and no one to guard them.

  Ledell pushed past the group about to go inside.

  “Get the next one.” He shot them a glare and walked in.

  “Excuse me, you need to line up!” the girl said.

  “If you know what is good for you, you’ll find me a seat!” Ledell said.

  “Lusia, is everything all right?” called a voice from the rear of the building. Fierce heat leaked through the swing door.

  “He cut the line!” Lusia said.

  The door opened, and Ledell looked over. If it were a powerful Master, he could apologize. If not, then he would do as he wanted. The Fourth Realm appreciated tough people. He needed to maintain his outward appearance.

  A diminutive woman wearing an apron walked out. Her skin spoke of a lifetime of hard work, while her shoulders showed that she allowed nothing to break her down or bend her back. She held a wooden ladle in one hand casually. “Did your momma not teach you any manners!”

  Ledell sneered. “What are you going to do about it?”

  He didn’t know when she moved, but he felt the smack before he heard it. He jumped up, grabbing his backside with a yell. Tears appeared in his eyes as memories from his childhood appeared.

  “You make so much noise!” Smack! “Cut in line!” Smack! “Are you so much bigger and better than others?!” Smack! “You want to get away from Momma Rodriguez?!”

  Ledell looked as if he were dancing, jumping up as she struck his backside and then ducking as she somehow reached up and cuffed his head.

  How was this happening! Please! Please, just stop. “I just want to try your food!” he yelped.

  The hits stopped coming.

  He had fought wild beasts with his bare hands, even when heavily wounded, but he hadn’t even seen this old woman move! No wonder there were no guards. He looked back at the people in line pitifully. They could have warned him!

  “I am over here, boy,” the lady said.

  Ledell’s head turned slowly, seeing her standing there with a smoking wooden spoon in her hand. What was that spoon made of? Just looking at it made his cheeks hurt! He had even tempered the foundations of his body.

  “You will go out there, and you will apologize to those nice people in line. Then, you will say sorry to Lusia, and then you will wait until I am done with work. Don’t make me come and find you.” Her eyes narrowed, and Ledell trembled. All thoughts of fleeing were followed by a tanned wooden-spoon-wielding demon.

  “Y-yes.”

  “Yes, Momma Rodriguez,” she enunciated, with her spoon.

  “Y-yes, Momma Rodriguez.”

  “Good.” She lowered her spoon and turned toward her kitchen, as if nothing had happened.

  Ledell apologized to the people in line and to Lusia before meekly walking to the back of the line to wait his turn.

  When he sat down, he ordered crawfish boil. He forgot everything as he dug in. Once he finished, remembering what Momma Rodriguez said, he hung around. She gave him small jobs to do: help Lusia, seat people, and serve drinks.

  People were nervous around him, but he did as he was asked. It wasn’t like fighting, and he admired how relaxed it was, the organized chaos of it all.

  As the shop closed, Ledell felt less embarrassed and more fulfilled than he had in a long time. Working with other people and doing simple jobs was nice compared to the everyday chaos of his life.

  “Come and take a seat.” Momma Rodriguez put down two iced teas. She was outside on a simple bench, staring at the simple road she lived on.

  Ledell moved to the other side of the bench and took the iced tea with both hands.

  “You might be a good person, but you can’t go around bullying others. You will turn into a bad person with all that negativity,” Momma Rodriguez said.

  She looked tired in the moonlight—a woman who worked every day in her kitchen, preparing ingredients and turning them into fine meals, meeting and greeting people as they came by.

  “What is troubling you?” she asked.

  Ledell opened his mouth and then closed it. His lies were useless in front of her.

  She raised an eyebrow. “I had one son. In our neighborhood, to make some extra money, I looked after the kids. I’ve seen it all and then some. I had many sons and daughters, nieces and nephews. My boy went to be a fighter, and all the people he met in the marines became my kids as well. Don’t try to dodge the question.”

  “It is the Fourth Realm. If you show weakness, people step all over you. I have to show how strong I am to get dangerous jobs.”

  “You need to get some friends.”

  Ledell drank from his cup, feeling somehow worse.

  “I don’t mean that in a bad way. I just mean that if you are always doing things by yourself, it will be harder.”

  “How?” Ledell asked.

  “First, stop acting like a damn ogre. What is it with all these piercings?” Momma Rodriguez asked.

  “They make me look hard.”

  Ledell rubbed his head; he didn’t know when the spoon had tapped him on the head.

  “Lose those tattoos. Stand straight up. Stop hunching; it is bad for your posture! You want to stay like that for the rest of your life? Go and talk to one of the mercenary groups and see if you can sign up. Then go on a few simple jobs. Get to know them first.”

  “But people use one another in the Ten Realms.”

  “That they do. Watch your back in your line of work. Though I have heard the Adventurer’s Guild and Fighter’s Association are good groups.”

  “I have to be stronger to be in those groups.” Ledell slumped. A spoon smacked him several times, and he found himself in proper posture.

  “Have you tried?” Momma Rodriguez asked, taking a sedate sip from her drink.

  Ledell was quiet.

  “If you never try, then you won’t know what will happen. Others call you a brute. Don’t be defined by others. Define yourself.”

  Ledell was quiet as he sat there, unable to express what he felt. His mind started to turn over.

  He felt a small hand on his shoulder. He glanced over to Momma Rodriguez at the end of it.

  “And don’t cut lines in my shop. If you want to have a meal, line up earlier.”

  The hairs on the back of his neck rose before Momma Rodriguez broke out into a smile.

  “Tomorrow, go and apply to the Fighter’s Association and Adventurer’s Guild, then to the other mercenary groups. And come and tell me how it went. I’ll give you a ten percent discount!”

  Why do I feel that I am going to be spending all my money here? Though he couldn’t complain. The food was really good.

  35

  Gearing Up

  Rugrat looked through the store window. There were all kinds of drawings on display. Artistic designs, spell designs, formation designs. Some glowed with different mana-imbued colors; others were vibrant inks or simple, plain inks.

  Rugrat glanced at his arm and then walked into the tattoo parlor.

  There were different rooms where people were getting tattoos, talking to the artists.

  “Looking to get some fresh ink?” Moto asked. She had designs running up her neck and down her arms. The lines were clear and powerful. She had piercings along one ear. She had shaved off her hair on half of her head; the other side was longer and half-covered her eye.

  She pulled on the herbal-wrapped leaves as if they were a loose cigar. The burning incense helped to recover one’s Stamina and keep them alert.

  Moto looked to be in a perpetual half-asleep state.

  “Same again?” She breathed out. Her eyes
shone as she looked at Rugrat’s arms.

  “Keep staring at me, and I’ll think you want nothing more than to pin my tattoos to the wall.”

  Moto laughed and waved Rugrat back. He followed her. The fragrant smoke smelled like rich cherry wood.

  She patted a lounging seat and sat in her own chair.

  “Names in the same places,” Rugrat started.

  “Of course, I have an outline for them.”

  “I was thinking of dragons and tigers fighting, running up my right arm, leading to my hand. In the web of my right hand, I want an American flag. Left arm, something tribal?”

  “That could be fun. Any designs?”

  “Surprise me.”

  “You always give me so many options!” Moto smiled and pulled out a book and passed it to Rugrat.

  He opened it and saw spell formation designs. “What are these?”

  “Formation tattoos. They’re new. We combine tattooing, spell formations, formation creation, and spell scroll creation. We have tattoos to increase Stamina and mana regen, or even healing. We can’t increase one’s Stamina pool or mana pool, Agility, or Strength—takes too much toll on the body. With those new formation armors, not so useful—though healing and Stamina tattoos are useful for any fighter.”

  “That’s pretty sweet,” Rugrat said.

  “Put it right on your chest, over your heart, keep you going.”

  “What about power. Does it pull from the body?”

  “No, there is a power formation that can link to it so you’re not drawing from your own internal power. You need to keep it within a few of you.”

  “Sign me up!” Rugrat pulled off his shirt and sat back down.

  “Names first.” Moto moved the tables around and took a deep puff of her rolled cigarette, putting it to the side.

  She pulled out an outline and placed it on Rugrat’s arm. Rugrat read the different names, turning solemn as memories appeared. He chuckled, patting his shoulder, imagining patting his friends on the back.

  Moto finished up the names and drafted outlines for the rest of his tattoos.

  “It’s annoying that every time I temper my body or heal my skin, I remove the tattoos,” Rugrat complained.

  “As if? You can change what kind of tattoos you have. Pretty sweet. More return customers, for sure.”

  Rugrat laughed. “I guess that makes sense. Easier to change it if people have a new idea.”

  “You haven’t visited me in a while. Not got anything to work on?”

  “New weapons are done. I’ve tempered and cultivated the hell out of myself. If I keep going, I could do some real damage. Don’t want to do that again! The fighter’s competition in Vuzgal starts in a few days. Need to head up and show the face.”

  “Aren’t you wearing masks?”

  “Yeah, but just being there should be enough, right?”

  “Weird way to run a city.”

  “Hiao Xen runs it. We just show up from time to time.”

  “Glad it’s your job and not mine.”

  “With those new tattoos, I’m sure there will be more people from the army who want to get tattoos. Well, from all of the branches.”

  “Already, things are heating up. I heard there might be a large fight soon?”

  “Maybe. We’ll have to see. That is on a need-to-know basis,” Rugrat said.

  “Just making small talk. Plus, with my oaths, not like I can go telling someone.” Moto smirked. “Part of a secret ultra-cool and ultra-secret city. I don’t think I would believe myself if I said it out loud.”

  “The army’s production has increased rapidly, going from just getting the extras off the crafting workshops to having seven purpose-built supply compounds, along with all the factories they need to supply the army,” Rugrat said to Erik as they reached the gate into Supply Compound One.

  “What is it, three in Alva, one in the Second and Third each, and then two in Vuzgal? Overkill much?”

  “Just planning. If anything happens, our people can fall back to these positions and have supplies, weapons, and armor ready to go. The locations are known by a few select crafters, officers, and higher-ups.”

  The doors opened fully, and they walked inside. Gong Jin and the rest of Special Team Three trailed in behind then.

  “I’m looking forward to getting new gear, though breaking it in is always a bitch,” Erik said.

  “Nothing sexier than new armor and weapons,” Han Wu said.

  “Or new explosives?” Gong Jin said.

  “Oh, I like it when you talk dirty, Sarge.”

  Rugrat snorted.

  “Like you can laugh. Are you any different? You and your gun porn,” Erik added.

  Rugrat’s face turned dark as the special team members fought to keep their lips under control.

  They passed through ID checks then through more locked doors before they entered the supply compound. Factories were working at full production speed. Recruits filed in, staring around with wide eyes as their training sergeants and corporals got them into order in front of boxes of kit filled with everything they would need from canteen to carrier, socks to helmet.

  Airborne members were working with engineering crews to get their aerial mounts fitted with armor and weapons fresh off the assembly lines.

  “Recruiting has accelerated with the opening of the sect—mercenaries from Vermire, recruits from the Adventurer’s Guild ranks, and members of the Beast Mountain Range army. The recruits from Vuzgal are being trained by the forces based there. There are air and ground force trainers. Squads are training every day in the new dungeons, fighting endless waves and all kinds of creatures. Their leveling up speed is impressive, and it allows them to get real combat experience,” Erik said.

  “We’re not just holding off a beast wave with twenty or so guards from Alva,” Rugrat said.

  Crates of ammunition were collected by carts to be taken to distinct armories and supply dumps. Rations, clothing, armor—all of it was collected and sent out.

  “How is the re-armoring going?”

  “The new formation-enhanced armor has been issued to the units deployed in combat operations. Four companies have made the switch—all army units. That should double in the next two weeks with the airborne getting the armor as well,” Rugrat said.

  Gong Jin and some of the team members walked ahead, opening the door into a building that looked like a bunker. They cleared the area.

  Rugrat and Erik walked in and found Taran there.

  “So, you got the good stuff for us?” Rugrat asked.

  “Please tell me it doesn’t follow Rugrat’s naming scheme,” Erik muttered.

  “No butt-chaffing ass greaves around here.” Taran smirked. He led them through some gates. They reached a room with racks of supplies on them. There was everything from socks and underwear to brand-new carriers and mag pouches.

  “First, protection.” Taran went down the racks and waved his storage ring, collecting items. He returned to the long table and looked at Gong Jin. “Since you’re here, you get new gear too.”

  He waved his hand, and boxes appeared. “Formation-enhanced armor, extended range, level-three protection.” Taran opened a box. Inside, there was a front and back plate and side armor plates.

  ==========

  Formation Armor Plate (Front/Rear) Extended Range Level III

  ==========

  Defense:

  457

  Weight:

  7.2 kg

  Charge:

  10,000/10,000

  Durability:

  100/100

  Slot:

  Takes up Front/Rear Armor slot. Requires Carrier.

  Innate Effect:

  Increase defense by 5%

  Socket One:

  Empty

  Socket Two:

  Extended link—Link to more sets of armor (3km Range)

  Requirements:

  Agility 58

  Strength 47

  ==========

  ========== />
  Formation Armor Plate (Side) Level III

  ==========

  Defense:

  213

  Weight:

  5.3 kg

  Charge:

  1,000/1,000

  Durability:

  100/100

  Slot:

  Takes up side slot

  Innate Effect:

  Increase defense by 5%

  Socket One:

  Self-Heal—Increase natural healing by 3%

  Socket Two:

  Stamina Rejuvenation—Increase Stamina Recovery by 2%

  Requirements:

  Mana Pool 35

  Strength 51

  ==========

  With the sound of tearing Alvan rip-tape, everyone took off their vests and opened them. They worked in twos, one holding the carrier’s material and the other holding the plates inside as they fought to pull out the plates.

  “I hate changing side plates,” Rugrat said as they finished pulling out his and Erik’s.

  “The front and back plates are much easier.” Erik pulled out the padding and the plate on the front and rear.

  “I knew I was forgetting something. This is a new padding.” Taran passed them thick blocks that fit behind the armor plates. “Should take more of the impact and a few more hits without changing your point of aim.”

  He started to take out long-sleeved shirts and pants that had armored knees. He checked them against the different people, changing out different sizes. “Good, firm support. Set of these and your Tropic Thunder Gloves—damn, you’d be a hit in any marine base.”

  “Dude, you’re fucked.” Erik finished replacing his plates and padding and grabbed a pair of pants.

  “Heh, couldn’t not!”

  ==========

  Combat pants (reinforced knees)

  ==========

  Defense:

  81

  Weight:

  1.3 kg

  Charge:

  1,000/1,000

  Durability:

  100/100

  Slot:

  Takes up Pants slot

  Innate Effect:

  Increased tensile strength 5%

  Camouflage clothing will make small alterations to blend into the environment.

  Waterproof

  Formation One:

  Heat regulation—will maintain comfortable temperature in hot and cold climates.