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

by Dan Sugralinov

  “Do I know? I hung it there! It will be done,” the demon rumbled.

  Despot disappeared and reappeared several floors below, disappeared again… So that was how he moved? Something like my Depths Teleportation, only in shorter jumps. But fast!

  “Well, folks, are we following the plan?” Hellfish asked after I got back. “Time to head down and start this marathon grind?”

  “Wait!” Destiny shouted. The raid, already unsheathing their weapons in anticipation of loot, froze and all cast unhappy glances at the troublemaker. But the girl went on: “I know how you all feel about me…”

  “Uh-huh,” Bloomer nodded. “We don’t feel anything about you, lady!”

  Meister just turned his back as if she wasn’t there.

  Destiny spoke louder:

  “You can’t leave an enemy behind you! I suggest we go up a few floors, and then go find Youlang. After all, if…”

  “Dumb idea!” Hellfish interrupted. “Anyway… Ganging up on people is for degenerates. Or does that not bother you, Des?”

  “What about Eynyon’s Gong?” Kara said. “It could strike any time now! We can’t waste time on Youlang, we have to hurry and level up.”

  True. I’d forgotten about that. Eynyon’s Gong was something like Sudden Death in the Arena. A way of making sure the Games didn’t drag on too long. When there were plenty of contestants, it didn’t sound, but now that there were fewer than 10% of us left, the gong could strike at any moment.

  Destiny moved her helpless gaze to me:

  “Better to waste an hour today than regret not doing it later… Scyth, surely you get it! If Eynyon’s Gong strikes and something happens to us, Youlang will be the champion as the only survivor!”

  “I get it. But now — we descend!” I commanded. “You all need to level up right now! Otherwise you’ll be out of the Games with or without the gong if something happens.”

  “Good plan,” Quetzal nodded. “But we need to clarify something else. Crafters! Your main task is not to die, so don’t get into combat, stand close by and run if you get aggro!”

  “Let’s go through the trash loot and see what ranged weapons we have,” Hellfish suggested. “If the crafters get within melee range of the bosses, we won’t have the healing for them. Better for them to stay at range and shoot, they can level up their combat skills that way too!”

  “My Sabers skill is high!” Bloomer whined. “I won’t change weapons!”

  “Neither will I,” Meister sniffed. “I like how daggers work!”

  “It’s bombs and turrets for me!” the gnome engineer Joker said, squeaking with bloodlust.

  Quetzal sighed:

  “Sabers and daggers… Bombs and turrets… Fine, you three use what you’re used to, the others can train in ranged weapons. Come on, toss out your loot, let’s share what we have.”

  It took twenty minutes to equip everyone with the most effective weapons. It would have taken even more time for the non-combat players to sort through it on their own; even Anna, who had at least seen some combat, was choosing gear by color before stats.

  Apart from our usual fighters, our team now had a ranged platoon, albeit with a squint debuff that I hoped was temporary. We also had the Wild Division, as Hellfish called Joker, Bloomer and Meister: a bomber gnome, a poet waving saber swords and a jeweler wielding daggers, sowing fear and horror wherever they went.

  “That’s it, enough messing around!”

  The gladiator’s commanding roar made even the crafters stand to attention. The raid began to descend down the stairs to floor 23. I flew first, to make sure my allies didn’t fall into an ambush by Youlang.

  Despot sat by the gates of the ninth floor, his head thrown back.

  “Hey, Horns!” I shouted. “What are you doing here? Waiting for some contestants to fall into your mouth from above?”

  “Fresh meat and mortal souls are good,” the demon answered. “But we demons are sentient. More than mere food interests us! I am admiring the view. My labyrinth is monotonous, joyless. The sky is beautiful here! It is different in the Underworld…”

  It was a stretch to call the grim sky above the Cursed Chasm beautiful, but the last thing I expected from a walking furnace was any affinity for beauty.

  “The sky’s nice,” I said, nodding to the demon. “But weren’t you going to fetch that sword for me?”

  The demon blew steam out his nostrils, annoyed at the interruption. Something whistled by my head, and the epic sword thrummed into the wall behind me. Despot looked backed to the sky.

  I looked at the descending raid and waved:

  “Hey, Quetzal! Look what I have here for you!”

  Taking the Blade of the Bloody Tide in hand, the titan whistled.

  “For me?”

  “Sure. There are no other strong meleers, so you should have it.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m better off without weapons,” I said, firing off a Hammerfist into the air. Rindzin’s Ghostly Talon extended from my arm at the peak of my strike, leaving an impression in the air. “Only activates when I’m unarmed.”

  “Impressive,” Quetzal nodded. “Good sword! Thanks!”

  We continued the descent. The raid was full of happy chatter in anticipation of a fun farming session and fast progress. We’d almost reached the platform at the gates of floor 21 when the Pitfall shook. The ground disappeared from beneath our feet. Everyone fell except me — I took off reflexively.

  The walls of the pit glowed, thick black smoke began pouring out of cracks and it got noticeably hot. More shaking, this time stronger. My allies toppled over. Nobody could stay on their feet. Someone rolled off the stairs and dropped over the edge.

  “He-e-e-lp!” they cried desperately.

  I went into Clarity, took off downwards after the faller. Niceguy the orc alchemist was hanging three floors below, his arms and legs in mid-wave. Grabbing him by a meaty leg, I returned him to the others and went back to normal speed.

  Only then did I see the notification:

  Global event in the Cursed Chasm: Freedom Day!

  Youlang, level 16 Spellcaster, has activated the Pentagram of Freedom.

  The seals of all the gates in the Pitfall have been removed and all the beasts of the Inferno are allowed to leave confinement. For the safety of the Cursed Chasm, the Pitfall has been covered with an impenetrable barrier that blocks entry and exit for all demons, contestants and contestant souls. The resurrection point for contestants who die in the Pitfall for the duration of this event is set at the bottom of the Pitfall.

  At the end of the event, the demons will return to their assigned locations in the Demonic Games.

  Duration: 05:59:59… 05:59:58… 05:59:57…

  A howling of many voices began to echo up from below… then a rumble, the trampling of feet. Abaddon roared triumphantly from the Pitfall’s bowels:

  “For the Inferno, demons!”

  Quetzal was the first to get his bearings:

  “Everyone group up!” he shouted, retreating to the wall. “Gather around me!”

  The roar of thousands of demonic throats drowned out his commands. Joker glanced over the edge, jumped back:

  “They’re flying this way!”

  “Oh, yes,” my ally boomed. “Soon this place will be packed with my brethren, hunting for your souls.”

  I flew out to the center of the drop, looked down. The smoke began to disperse, but there was still too much of it to see what was happening in detail — bosses and mobs flooded out of all the floors I could see like a raging river. Most of them were running up the staircase, but the ones that could fly shot up toward us.

  “Into the instance!” I shouted, pointing at the open gates. “It’ll be easier to defend ourselves, like the three hundred Spartans!”

  “Three hundred what?” Anna asked in confusion.

  “We block them in the narrow pass!” Hellfish said, getting the idea.

  To reach us, the nearest mobs rushing up fr
om below still had roughly half a circle to go. Urging on the crafters, Quetzal and Hellfish sent everyone down the stairs, but I could already tell they wouldn’t make it. Vermos was already approaching, boss of floor 31, a thirty-foot ball with burning eyes either side of a vertical maw. He had no wings, but floated, moving faster than the other demons. His eyes began to burn…

  “Despot, cover them!” I shouted to my ally, then rushed down to meet the boss.

  Just below Vermos, another boss was ascending, steadily flapping huge wings — level 38 Fallen Angel with horns, already casting a huge fireball between his hands.

  Vermos’s eyes flashed. Two dozen red beams shot out of them, but in the same moment, I activated Clarity and put myself between the beams and my allies. All the lights shot into me, my flesh hissed… I struck three times with the Talon, killing the demonic monster.

  Once sure that Vermos was dead, and his deadly rays hadn’t reached my allies, I flew to Fallen Angel, whose fireball was now nine feet across. After putting the boss down with a couple of Hammerfists, I waited for the hellish magic to dissipate, and only then left Clarity.

  I rose up, stood on the staircase beneath floor 21 to face the motley mass of mobs from levels 23 and 24. They had around a hundred yards left to reach me.

  I went to make sure my allies were alright and had managed to get inside, and warned them:

  “I’m going to fly up and check whether that barrier is definitely impassable.” I looked for my demon ally, didn’t find him. “Despot!”

  The demon appeared and looked at me expectantly.

  “You said demons don’t touch demons, right?”

  “So it is, ally. I fear your final hour is at hand.”

  “Then block the passageway through the gates with your body. Otherwise you…” I pulled out his black heart. “Will disincarnate with the rest of us!”

  “Blackmail and threats, how original. I will do as you ask, ally. And pray to your gods that General Abaddon has not emerged from his lair.

  The demon stood in the passageway and sat down, spreading his halberd arms to block as much space in the gateway as possible. Quetzal stood behind him. Joker started putting up turrets and mining the area in case any smaller demons got past Despot. The ranged took up positions and aimed into the gateway.

  I went back into Clarity. I realized I was probably wasting my spirit reserves, but I had to check whether the barrier was really impenetrable. Flying there and back took a couple of seconds of real time. Slowing a little, I felt for an invisible obstacle with outstretched arms and found it. I struck it twice with Hammerfist and realized that all my efforts were in vain: it was like an invisible lid had been placed over the Pitfall, impenetrable, invulnerable.

  Dropping down, I cut into the bestial mass of fangs, claws and horns already running for the gates. I loosed a meatgrinding Combo, hoping that at least some of the experience would go to my allies. Damn it — I killed around three hundred low-level demons and five bosses, but nobody in the raid leveled up. It occurred to me that I should have put Despot on the narrow five-yard-across staircase, but casting a glance down, I realized the idea was foolish. A sea roiled before me — thousands of winged and floating demons soared upwards.

  Still in my sped-up state, I went up to my people, squeezed between the ceiling and Despot and emerged from Clarity:

  “This is a disaster…” I said. “All Youlang has to do now is wait for us all to get eaten.”

  “What about the barrier?” Quetzal asked.

  “Useless. We’re trapped here!”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Hellfish chuckled. “I got enough rounds for all of ‘em!”

  Boom! The sniper fired, and a small imp flew from Despot’s shoulder and plummeted over the edge, screeching wildly.

  “Groghghr!” my ally roared in displeasure. “Only my weaker brethren are here for now. Best not to clear them. They block the way for the stronger demons that come later.”

  “Don’t think we could clear them if we wanted to,” Hellfish muttered, contradicting his enthusiasm of a moment ago. “Guys, doesn’t it feel like Snowstorm really doesn’t want us to win?”

  “Yeah, it’s like Youlang’s reward was tailor-made for this exact situation…” Quetzal noted, looking at me. “But I don’t think it’s all of us they want to stop from winning. It’s one person in particular.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “My participation in the Games is a pain in Snowstorm’s ass. You’ll find out why soon.”

  “Never mind,” Meister sighed. “I never dreamed of getting this far in the Games anyway. Thank you, Scyth!”

  “Thanks from all of us!” the crafters shouted over the noise of shots and the roar of demons from outside.

  Destiny caught my eyes, nodded. No matter how the day turned out, I had fulfilled my obligations to her — she was in the final leaderboard. The silver ranger would hold up her end of the bargain after the Games.

  In the meantime, all the ranged fighters hid behind mobile barricades erected by Joker. The engineer turned out to be a true master of fortifications.

  The next wave of mobs rolled onto the floor, these higher in level than the ones I threw back. They charged into Despot, and my ally barely withstood against their mass by driving his halberd arms into the floor behind him. An endless cannonade of shots rang out from the sniper and hunter. Destiny’s arrows whistled.

  Quetzal, stabbing his sword mercilessly into an open space between Despot and the wall, turned around and said quickly:

  “We need to find a narrow passageway inside the instance.”

  “I’ll fly around and look,” I said.

  “No. You’re needed here! If any small ones get through, everyone will die.”

  “I’ll take care of it,” Destiny volunteered, firing off a Volley of arrows that left a blue trail. “The floor is clear, I shouldn’t run into any problems. Rangers have a big movement speed bonus.

  “All of you go then,” I said. “Despot and I will hold them back. If you find a good position, speak up in chat and we’ll come to you.”

  “Hold on here,” Destiny whispered, kissing me on the cheek.

  “We only have to hold for a little under six hours! Go!”

  My allies disappeared down the tunnel. For me and Despot, the fight had only just begun…

  I spent a quarter of an hour careering back and forth in the cave before the entrance, intercepting demons that got through in my quickened state. In that time, my knowledge of the types of demons that existed expanded by a dozen species. Helpfully for me, the first ones to reach us were weak (and for me, that was any beneath level one hundred), and the strong demons were too large to fit through the gaps left by Despot’s frame. They couldn’t touch my comrade, so they tried constantly to convince him to open the way to the mortals for them.

  A sweet-voiced demongirl boss, level 78 Virgo, appeared before Despot and spoke to me. Her seduction aura didn’t work on my ally, but me… I ran toward her, trying to move Despot aside. I saw the most beautiful woman in the world: a waterfall of chestnut hair, cherry lips, naked firm breasts, curved hips. If the pinnacle of creation existed, she was it. A thought knocked from outside my consciousness, trying to tell me it wasn’t normal that she had eight legs that looked more crustacean than human, but the demoness emitted a dizzying aroma. I would have sold my soul for the right to touch her.

  “Wake up!” Despot pushed me hard with a halberd and I flew back several yards. “Get out of here, ally! None can withstand her charms!”

  The haze lifted and Virgo howled in anger and disappointment. I moved back, just in case. The demon woman couldn’t get inside, but her smaller progeny could — the cave filled with forty or so spiders, all different sizes and all with women’s torsos. Before they ran through the dungeon in search of my allies, I used Clarity and brought them all down. With each death, Virgo howled beyond the threshold of the gates.

  We found a good spot, Quetzal wrote in a message. A narrow tunnel leading to a w
ide dead end. We see your marker on the minimap, so you must see ours too. Come to us with your pet.

  “Follow me, Despot,” I commanded the demon, then flew off toward our people.

  I wasn’t worried about my ally — not with his talent of always catching up. Quetzal got in touch just in time — right after my command, I heard a deafening crash like a celestial hammer striking the anvil of hell. With a loud crack, Despot’s body crashed into the wall opposite the gates.

  “What the hell?!” I asked aloud, turning round. When I saw what it was, I flew away at full speed without looking back.