The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series

by Dan Sugralinov

  The priest didn’t argue, taking several men and running after Youlang’s group to the village. I sincerely hoped that they fell into a hole, ran into a demon, got hit by a falling meteorite, or at least tripped over. Every minute of petrification that passed increased my chance of rescue.

  Marcus sprawled out next to me, crossing his hands behind his head and leaning back on my arm. He plucked a blade of grass and tickled my nose — naturally, I felt nothing.

  “Another ten minutes,” he grinned, “and you’re dead meat. Devoured by a high demon. I’m not like Destiny, this is nothing personal. You get it, right? Games are games. The strongest wins. No hard feelings, Scyth.”

  This orc was far from simple. He was thinking about the future, worried I might take vengeance in big Dis! I couldn’t answer, so I just waited for him to say something else. It was the perfect time for a classic villainous monologue, but instead, Marcus straightened and started pacing the cemetery, quietly giving orders to his men. I couldn’t hear what he said, so I just watched the petrification timer: 36:31… 36:30…

  Soon Inchito returned with the others. They had brought chains, and I was surrounded by activity again. I got petrified lying down with my arms close to my body, so the only place the enemies could attach the chains was at my feet.

  They dragged me like a dead man, legs first. Fifteen people pulled and just as many walked behind, some of them pushing me by the head and shoulders.

  We moved slowly, but surely, and I thanked every obstacle we got stuck on — each won a little time, and a little hope that the petrification would end before I was dragged to the Pitfall. It was far beyond the bounds of the village, and our path there was far from smooth. That damn timer ticked down too slowly: 24:55… 24:54…

  “Get a move on!” Marcus boomed. “Time, damn it! We can’t waste a chance like this!”

  The orc kept on shouting, urging on his comrades. I started to wish my hearing had gone when I got turned to stone.

  When we passed the village, I heard footfalls and heavy breathing behind us, then Messiah’s excited voice:

  “I’ve brought her, Marcus! Just like I promised! I’ve proven myself!”

  “What’s that?” the orc muttered. “What have you proven? To who?”

  I didn’t see what was happening, just heard their voices.

  “Here, look. Destiny!”

  “What? Where? In your pocket?”

  “Kind of, yeah, in dove form. Careful, she only has ten health…” I heard a squawk, flapping, an angry cooing. “Don’t strangle her!”

  “Ha-ha! It really is Des!”

  Marcus and Messiah fell back to the rear, but kept following behind us, so I could still hear their conversation.

  “Can she understand us?” Marcus asked.

  “Sure can!” the magician answered proudly. “But if you don’t want her to see or hear, put her away in your inventory.”

  “How long does it last? I don’t see a timer…”

  “Half an hour at least. The skill isn’t high level, the reverse transformation is random. We’re lucky she’s small now, or it wouldn’t have worked out.”

  Marcus was pleased. From what I heard, he hid the dove away in his inventory, ordered Messiah to go to the graveyard and help the ones left there to camp my allies, then caught up to the group dragging me along.

  “Don’t forget to drink some Demonic Brandy, magician,” he called to Messiah’s retreating back. “Or else they might think you’re one of them and kill you.”

  We left the village behind us. I couldn’t feel the heat from the Pitfall, but it was clear by the scorched earth that we were getting closer. And still almost twelve minutes of petrification left.

  Marcus walked alongside me. Pulling out the dove, the orc spoke to it:

  “You never did show up last night, gorgeous. What do you think, should I break your neck now, or are you going to change your mind and come by tonight? Nobody else is gonna help you, so let me know that you agree.”

  The dove squawked in displeasure.

  “What’s that, yes or no? I can’t tell! Wave your wings while you still have feathers! Go on! Right, got it. Then look…” The bruiser held the dove above me, showing me to her: “Here he is, that Scyth of yours. You thought I wouldn’t find out? The kid can’t help you. So either you start…”

  Suddenly, two things happened at once; I got an invite to Quetzal’s raid, and Marcus’s people came under attack. I accepted the invite and saw the full list of my scant allies — less than twenty in total.

  The chains dropped to the ground with a crash and the battle began. My allies were cut down mercilessly and without delay. One after another, their portraits in my interface lost their color and were covered up with skulls. Infect started singing a song off to the side, but then sputtered, choked and fell silent. But the bard didn’t die. He must have crawled away and hid with what little health he had left.

  In less than a minute, Hellfish and Quetzal’s raid was dealt with. Only two remained alive: Infect’s flashing red portrait and Tissa at half health. As for why, that soon became clear:

  “Marcus! Look who I found!” The hoarse female voice might have belonged to an orc or dwarf girl. “You said not to finish off the girl, right?”

  “Oh, Tissa… Good girl, Michaela, bring her here.” Marcus raised his voice again: “The rest of you, pick up these chains and drag the Threat to the Pitfall! Fast!”

  They dragged me further, and thank the Sleepers it was at a snail’s pace. Marcus turned to Tissa and continued:

  “I’m going to give you one chance to stay in the Games, girl, and maybe even get near the top of the leaderboard! You know what I need…”

  “I already answered you, Marcus!” the priestess snapped. “Didn’t get it the first time? Go to hell, you nasty creep!”

  The dove, which the orc hadn’t let out of his hands even during the battle against my allies, cooed with something that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Marcus and Tissa fell behind. The girl’s voice barely reached me, but I think the bruiser’s shout carried all the way to the bottom of the Pitfall:

  “Right! You ice queens are getting on my nerves! I’d love to take you both for a ride, but moderation is important. So here’s how it’s going to be: only one of you will be left in the Games tomorrow! Choose who!”

  “Definitely not me! Go **** yourself!” Tissa shouted angrily, adding some specific advice that sounded anatomically difficult.

  The sound of the slap was so loud that even the ones dragging me turned around. Tissa cried out, and apparently Infect chose that moment to come running out of the bushes. “Run!” he shouted, then attacked Marcus and died a moment later. Not for the last time, not yet.

  Infect’s sacrifice was in vain. The enraged Marcus easily caught up to Tissa and brought his club down on her, smashing her into the ground. The execution took place out of my sight, but the sound was descriptive enough for me to form an image of what had happened.

  Tissa’s portrait blackened: Contestant knocked out…

  Twelve minutes remained on the petrification timer when someone else caught up to us. The procession slowed somewhat, turning, but Marcus shouted for them to keep pulling. He moved to the rear, the dove still in his hand.

  “Meister, Roman, Bloomer and the rest have been captured,” Youlang reported. “I sent my group to the graveyard, then came here just in case. If we don’t have time to throw him down, I can stun him or sheep him.”

  “Good,” Marcus answered. “Everything is going to plan, we should have time.”

  “What’s the deal with the bird?”

  “Hah! Meet Destiny the dove…”

  The orc told her about the magician Messiah and what awaited him. Youlang laughed. Then they spoke about something else I didn’t hear, until Marcus shouted:

  “Damn it, only ten minutes left! Youlang, can you put Feather on the Threat?”

  “I tried, it’s useless. He’s immune to all buffs.”

 
“Does that mean even hitting the bottom won’t kill him? Oh, the hell with it, Abaddon will one-shot him after the debuff ends! But we still need to hurry!”

  Marcus kept swearing and even decided to condescend to help with the lifting: he pushed someone away and took up the chains himself, groaning, straining and from time to time shouting:

  “You realize that if we aren’t fast enough, then we’re all done for? Heave! Ho!”

  We started to move faster. My mind cast around in its motionless body, unable to do anything. All I could do was wait and pray to the Sleepers and Fortune that my enemies run out of time, and let the ticking timer hypnotize me: 10:11… 10:10…

  My pall-bearers knew they had it all on the line; they redoubled their efforts and reached their goal with seven minutes left on my debuff. Now their greatest challenge loomed: throwing their cargo over the edge. After all, they couldn’t pull me all the way to it.

  First they tried to move me with the entire raid pushing against me, but got in each other’s way in panic. Then someone had the bright idea of laying cut planks beneath me, which they then used as levers — that sped them up, and time, on the contrary, slowed down: 06:05… 06:04…

  My head was already hanging over the edge of the abyss when a plank suddenly broke from the strain. Marcus tripped, losing hold of the dove, and shouted:

  “God dammit! You’re dead, Sheppard!” Raising his head, he pointed at a finger at the bird as it flew away. “And you, Des, you won’t fly far!”

  They didn’t do so well with only two levers. Inchito shot off somewhere and came back with a plank. He probably pulled it from the fence around the Pitfall.

  But even three levers didn’t do the job. The planks cracked, broke, the motionless Scyth statue got stuck on roots, and before the enemies figured out what was in the way, a precious minute had passed, and then another: 03:33… 03:32…

  When the timer showed 02:45, Marcus drank down a combat potion and ordered the others to do the same. And that bore fruit — a strained screech, a bestial roar, some furious swearing and I toppled over the edge, beginning my long drop down the Pitfall.

  After me came a chorus of cheers and shouts of joy, a roar from Marcus:

  “No hard feelings, Sheppa-a-a-ard!”

  Based on my last experience, I had two or three minutes left to fall. A second of petrification could make the difference between life and death.

  To put it otherwise, everything depended on how the mechanics of the Cursed Chasm calculated fall speed in this damned chunk of land torn off the rest of the world.

  Chapter 25. Reckoning

  I DROPPED THROUGH THE AIR as a ten-ton stone, flipping end over end, feeling nothing, marking my passage only by the flashing lights and disappearing sky. The triumphant cries of Marcus and his people quickly fell behind. The whistle as I cut through the air grew louder, and then somehow changed in a strange way. If I hadn’t been made of solid stone, I would probably have caught fire from the friction with the air.

  At some point, I just closed my eyes and concentrated entirely on the timer of Utterly Petrified. It didn’t matter if the debuff fell before or after I landed, I needed to instantly activate Clarity and Flight right away. If I stayed in stone form, I’d survive, but only to be instantly attacked by Abaddon; if I was lucky, I would just not hit the bottom before I could slow time in mid-air and take control of my fall. That’s what I focused on, hypnotized by the countdown on the debuff.

  I was still falling, with no sense of space, but every sense of time — the countdown showed: 00:03… 00:02… 00:01…

  Utterly Petrified effect ended!

  The notification appeared at the same time as two other skills activated:

  Clarity activated: your speed increases significantly and you can foresee the movements of enemies.

  Flight activated: you can fly without limits!

  A demonic hand extended and froze right beneath me — flexible and incredibly long, but still not fast enough to close its fingers in time. I shot upwards. Abaddon’s furious roar melded with the rush of wind in my ears.

  I flew for several seconds in Clarity, gaining speed, then switched it off, but my momentum still made me fly far faster than usual. Even as fast as I was, it was a three minute flight to the top. In that time, I figured out my strategy for what came next.

  I was in two minds about what to spend my precious time on. My heart screamed at me to go to the graveyard to see who I could save — there were around seventy Markers butchering all three of my allied squads, cutting them down to level zero. Rationally I knew that I needed to take out my strongest enemies right away, while they thought I was dead and weren’t hurrying or hiding, confident that the game was done.

  Spurred on by those thoughts, I made a choice. Marcus, Inchito, Caville, Urkish and the others had to die. With Clarity, it would take me no more than a minute, but I’d be able to rest easy. And as soon as I severed the head of the enemy raids, I could rush to the cemetery.

  I was in such a hurry that Marcus’s squad nearly escaped my attention. They’d turned off the road into the woods. Catching them in the corner of my eye and throwing on Stealth, I dropped down toward them, aiming to pick up Marcus and throw him into the Pitfall. I realized why they had changed their route only when I got closer.

  Stopping in place above my enemies, I saw Marcus lifting Destiny up by her throat.

  “For the last time,” the orc roared. “Yes or no? Your word, princess, is something you have to keep!”

  “Go… to the Nether…” the elf girl croaked.

  Now it was my turn to fulfill a promise. I forbade myself from even thinking of what I’d get from Destiny for getting her near the top of the leaderboard, let alone talking about it; I couldn’t show my cards to the corporation, since I was under especially close surveillance.

  I left Quetzal’s raid, then invited Destiny to my group.

  Destiny, Elf, level 1 Silver Ranger, has joined your group.

  “Come on, Des, be reasonable!” Urkish said. “Then we’ll be on the same side again. Marcus is right, you had an agreement. He held up his end of the bargain, but you didn’t do what you promised!”

  The girl didn’t give away my presence. A shadow of relief flashed on her face, but her inborn gift as an actress helped her play her role properly:

  “You’re disgusting, Ezekiel!” Destiny’s voice shook. “I can’t believe I thought you were my friend…”

  “Enough!” Marcus roared, letting go of the elf girl’s throat. He pulled out a huge club and hefted it. “You’ll be out of the Games before you can blink. Three… Two…”

  One! Ghastly Howl! Two seconds to finish the howl, then — Clarity! They didn’t have time to get properly scared, freezing in various poses, but each had the Fear debuff. Destiny’s eyes were wide, her mouth open in a scream — she was afraid she was about to die, after all. The stone club had just begun to fall from the orc bruiser’s opening fingers, his teeth bared in grimace of shock.

  I grabbed Marcus and bolted back toward the Pitfall. I felt like I was the one dragging a statue this time. The orc shouted something, but I heard only a low bass rumble. Shame he couldn’t hear my parting words to him:

  “There’s going to be a lot of food for Abaddon today, Marcus Jansson, and you’re the first bite!”

  Still ignorant of his fate, he began to fall, his brown face still frozen in fear. Once he got control of his character back, there would be nothing he could do.

  The people in the clearing were still running around in Fear when I got back… Very slowly, but their poses and positions had definitely changed. The Ghastly Howl didn’t hit Destiny. She had already pulled out her bow and loosed an arrow at Urkish’s face.

  The arrow swam lazily through the air and had moved only a couple of feet by the time I took off again, this time with a new cargo — Inchito. The lopher was closer to me, but why not let the silver ranger enjoy a little vengeance? I considered the light priest the second most dangerous ene
my after Marcus.

  After the third snack for the high demon — spellcaster Youlang — I only had enough Clarity left for two or three runs, which allowed me to add Urkish and Caville to Abaddon’s diet.

  Returning to the others, I put them down with ordinary Hammerfists to gather all my enemies in one place — the graveyard, then went back to normal speed to save a few seconds of Clarity just in case. Magnetism pulled in loot.

  Only then did Destiny see me.

  “Thanks,” she said. She wanted to say something else, but stopped herself.

  Not answering, I grabbed her beneath the arms and carried her to the village with Flight. There was nobody on the street except NPCs — Meister’s people must have already been ejected from their private rooms, and were now being killed at the graveyard. I had to hurry.