Sovereign Rising (The Gods' Game, Volume III): A LitRPG novel

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by Rohan M Vider


  “I’ll explain later,” he said. “Let’s finish this first.”

  She nodded slowly and turned to look for another target. “Will they attack us?” she asked, observing the embattled worgs.

  “They are enraged and will mindlessly attack the closest target,” he replied absently as he assessed the battle. Adra’s arrows were raining down from above, each arrow dealing death to the worgs as often as not. They were no threat anymore.

  The two ogres, though, seemed to be faring much better. Despite consistently losing their footing from the slippery ice Gaesin had cast beneath them and the hail of ice bolts he directed their way, the two ogres were inching away from the battle. They couldn’t be allowed to escape. He turned to the whiesper. “Mirien, help Gaesin with the ogres. They appear to be retreating.”

  Mirien glanced downslope and nodded. “On it,” she said before stepping into the nearest ogre’s shadow.

  “Brother, go help her. Adra and I will handle the rest of the worgs,” he said to Aiken. Huffing in acknowledgment, the jade bear slipped into the earth and swam towards Mirien and the ogres.

  Kyran turned his attention to the four-footed beasts. Already, half their number were dead or dying. Nothing else had emerged from the darkness to attack the party, which left him to assume that there were no more threats lurking nearby.

  There was no more need to conserve his psi. Sheathing the mageblade, he drew on his psi and cast beast befriend again.

  Battle Log (Ogre hunting band)

  The battle has ended.

  Combat results

  Creatures bonded: 3 worgs.

  Hostiles killed: 2 of 2 ogre hunt masters, 21 of 24 worgs.

  Levels gained

  None.

  Items acquired

  Worg skins x 15 (15 kg).

  Worg meat (500 kg).

  ✽✽✽

  Five minutes later, the battle was over and Mirien was feeling lost. Today has been chockful of shocks, she thought.

  At every turn, the free agent had surprised her. First with Dilauk’s squad, then Gnarok’s warband, and now this…slaughter of the worg pack and its handlers.

  She turned full circle, surveying the carnage. Twenty-one of the worgs lay dead, ravaged by the teeth and claws of their fellows, or by Adra’s deadly arrows. The two ogres were also dead—one her own handiwork, the other Aiken’s and Gaesin’s.

  Yet none of the devastation the party had wrought would have been possible without the free agent’s ‘little trick.’ If not for Kyran’s enrage beast spell, Mirien knew the party would have likely been overrun, or at the very least taken grievous losses. Instead, they had survived the battle unscathed.

  She glanced at Kyran and the three worgs sitting tamely at his feet, tongues lolling and looking for all the world like three large dogs. She repressed a shiver of unease. There was far more to the wood-elf than she had realised.

  It had taken her today’s series of running battles to understand the true scope of Kyran’s power. Not even champions, she knew, had such wide-ranging abilities at their beck. If he lived, he would make a fearsome player someday. If he lived.

  His value to the Brotherhood, she realised, was more than his ability to create vassals. As a player in his own right, he would likely be deadlier than many of the Brotherhood’s agents.

  “What?” asked Kyran, seeing her staring at him.

  Mirien set aside her wandering thoughts. “So, what next, Kyran?”

  “We scavenge what we can from the worgs.” He gestured to the wolven slipping between the worg corpses. “Adra believes their meat to be edible.” He grimaced. “Then we find somewhere less…tainted to camp for the night.”

  Mirien nodded in agreement. “And those?” she asked, pointing to the three worgs.

  “They are tamed and will stay that way for the next two days. If we run into more ogres, I am sure they will prove useful allies.”

  Two days. It was much longer than she expected. His beast bonding skill had to be fairly powerful for that. How were so many of his skills so advanced? And he was, what, only level twenty-two still? She shook her head. She would do well not to underestimate him again.

  “Something the matter?” asked Kyran, seeing her shake her head.

  “Nothing, it’s just—”

  A long, undulating howl interrupted her. The three worgs rose swiftly to their feet, no longer looking like large dogs, but the deadly predators that they were.

  “What’s that?” asked Gaesin.

  “Worgs,” replied Adra, straightening from where she had been skinning one of the dead creatures. She closed her eyes and listened intently for a while. “Another pack, I expect. Perhaps three or four kilometres south from here.”

  “How—”

  Another howl. Adra’s look turned queasy. “That one is from the west, five kilometres away. Maybe.”

  A third howl peeled out. “That’s west again.” She listened for a while. “Further out than the rest.” The party waited in tense silence, but no more howls followed. Adra’s face was grim. “The packs were calling to each other, I think. Signalling their positions.” She glanced at the remains of the slain worgs around them. “This pack’s response would have been missed.”

  “So,” Kyran breathed. “The ogres seem determined to catch us. We now have three hunting parties and Gnarok’s warband on our trail.” He shook his head and muttered, “We have to get out of these mountains.”

  “Fortunately,” said Mirien, “the way north and east seems open, and north is the direction we must head to reach the escarpment.”

  “Yes, fortunate that,” repeated Kyran, but from the sour expression on his face, he didn’t appear to consider themselves lucky.

  Mirien couldn’t blame him. Their straits were dire. She wondered how they were going to outrun four different ogre parties. “Do you want to stay and make a stand?”

  Kyran glanced at her and shook his head. “Both my and Gaesin’s essence pools are nearly drained. Perhaps one more worg pack we could defeat, but another two after that? And Gnarok’s warband? No, we will not survive all that.”

  Mirien nodded in agreement. The day had taken its toll on all of them.

  “We run then?” asked Gaesin wearily.

  “Yes,” said Kyran. “It looks like there won’t be any rest for us tonight. We travel through the night.” He turned to Mirien. “How long until we reach the escarpment?”

  “If we travel all night, we should reach it in the early hours of the morning.”

  “Then let’s be about it,” said Kyran.

  Chapter 15

  16 Octu 2603 AB

  Where is Eld? It is a question that many a scholar has asked. Gods cannot be killed. Therefore, the traitor must exist somewhere. Some believe that he hides in the ether, and that without followers or access to divine essence, his spirit has been irreparably damaged. Others believe the cunning god has escaped the Game. And yet others, that somehow, as the Game’s creator, Eld was never fully bound by its tenets and freely roams the cosmos. —Lillian Aimes, sorceress.

  The night passed in a blur.

  Despite everyone’s exhaustion, the party pushed on, hounded by the repeated howls at their back. And even though Adra repeatedly assured him that the pursuing packs had not managed to close the distance, Kyran felt as if the beasts were nipping at their heels.

  He glanced at the three worgs running beside him. The beasts’ breaths were short and steady, and their legs pumped ceaselessly. Leaping surefootedly across the rocky terrain, the worgs seemed tireless. The party, not so much.

  His eyes roved over the rest of their company. Gaesin had collapsed not long ago. The half-elf had expended a huge amount of essence in the last battle and was worn to the bone. Kyran had been forced to ask Aiken to carry him.

  He reached out to the bear through their bond. “How are you doing, brother?” A looping image of a bear running for days was Aiken’s only answer: the bear assuring him that he could go on for days—much longer t
han any worg.

  Kyran gasped out a laugh through his own heaving breaths. Aiken, while not bothered by his befriending of the worgs, was clearly determined to demonstrate his superiority. But despite Aiken’s attempted reassurance, Kyran was worried about his companion. Aiken was still too small to tolerate the burden of Gaesin’s weight for a prolonged duration, and the bear was struggling, he knew.

  Kyran turned to Adra and Mirien. Out of all the party, the duo seemed to be faring the best. The glow of steely resolution lit each woman’s eyes. Yet they too stumbled occasionally.

  Watching the two women run side by side, Kyran was struck by how similar they were. He chuckled in wry amusement. Neither would have been impressed to hear that he thought so.

  Ignoring the difference in their outward appearances and their very obvious religious and political disagreements, the two appeared to have the same iron determination, passion, and stubbornness. Perhaps that was why they couldn’t seem to get along.

  And what about you, Kyran, how are you doing? He sighed. He was trying hard to ignore his own state of exhaustion. Worrying about the rest of the party at least kept his mind off his own aching limbs and burning muscles. The desire to lie down on the ground and close his eyes was nearly irresistible.

  But the party was depending on him. There was nothing for it but to keep going, he knew. He glanced up at the sky. It had just begun to brighten. Morning could not be far off. I hope Mirien was right about the escarpment’s location. It can’t be much farther now. Putting his head down, he concentrated only on putting one foot in front of the other.

  ✽✽✽

  The sun was still low in the sky when the Ruiven escarpment appeared on the horizon.

  It was their last major hurdle before they could escape the mountain’s clutches. Catching sight of the wall looming ahead of them, Mirien heaved a sigh of relief. Though she had been mostly sure of the escarpment’s location, she had also been uncomfortably aware of how desperately the party’s fate depended on her being right. They were all on their last legs, even her.

  Once they scaled the escarpment, there would be no way for the worgs to continue their chase. She had not heard the packs’ howls for some time now, but she was sure the beasts still pursued them.

  Glancing back at the rest of the party, Mirien saw that, with their heads bowed, none of the others had noticed the sheer cliff up ahead yet. “We’re here,” she called out. “We’ve reached the escarpment!”

  Kyran’s head jerked up, and he blinked bleary eyes. “Finally,” he breathed.

  Adra’s reaction was more subdued, the sudden curling of her tail the only indication that Mirien’s words had startled her out of her daze.

  Gaesin, oblivious, continued snoring where he lay on Aiken’s back. The great bear had borne the half-elf for the last few hours without complaint and Mirien knew that he, too, must be straining.

  Adra shook the half-elf awake and, revitalised by hope, the party hurried forward.

  ✽✽✽

  Reaching the escarpment’s base, Kyran retrieved the climbing cable from his inventory and handed it to Mirien. He glanced up the cliff. “Are the heights in reach of your shadow step?”

  “Barely,” Mirien replied, taking the rope from him.

  “Well, you know what to do,” said Kyran. “We’ll send Gaesin up first once you’ve secured the rope.”

  Mirien nodded and shadow stepped away.

  “Can you see her?” Kyran called to Adra, who was standing ten metres away from the escarpment’s base and keeping watch.

  Shielding her eyes from the sun, Adra peered upwards. “Yes, she is securing the cable now.”

  “Good,” said Kyran, shifting from foot to foot to keep himself alert. Moments later, a length of rope uncoiled from above. After a tug to confirm that it was securely fastened, he called Gaesin over. “Don’t rush. Slow and steady, alright?”

  The half-elf nodded. His eyes were clearer and brighter than they had been a few hours ago. The rest he had gotten on Aiken had done him some good.

  “Right, off you go,” said Kyran, after fastening the lower end of the rope around Gaesin’s waist. The youth set his hands to the cable and began climbing while Mirien pulled on the rope to help him along.

  After taking a minute to make sure the youth was managing the climb, Kyran stepped away from the wall and seated himself next to Adra. It was an arduous climb up for tired limbs and it would take Gaesin a while to reach the top.

  “Was it a good idea sending him first?” Adra asked after a long moment of silence during which the two watched the youth’s laborious progress.

  Kyran shrugged. “Of us all, Gaesin will have the most difficulty with the climb. You, and even I, can manage the climb much faster if necessary. It’s best to get him to safety first.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” replied Adra with dry amusement. “You should have been the first one up. You are too important to risk.”

  “You know I don’t think that way, Adra.”

  Adra smiled. “I know, Kyran, but it doesn’t change the facts. You are important.” Her eyes grew distant. “I’ve done some thinking the past couple of days, and I have come to realise a few things.”

  She turned to stare directly into his eyes. “The whiesper and I may not agree on much, but she is right in one aspect…things in Myelad need to change, and you are the one to do it. You. Not the Brotherhood. I don’t trust them. Do you understand, Kyran?”

  Kyran looked at the grave expression on Adra’s face, and his own grew serious. It must have taken a lot for Adra to make even this partial admission that something was wrong with the gods’ rule. “I understand, Adra,” he said gently. “And I will do my best, but change will be difficult, and is not something we can likely effect without allies, allies like the Brotherhood.”

  Adra sighed. “I know, Kyran, but I don’t have to like it. Or trust them.”

  “It’s prudent to doubt the Brotherhood’s intentions. I do so as well. But Mirien…she at least has proven herself worthy of some measure of trust.” He paused. “Gaesin trusts her, you know.”

  Adra turned away. “There is something the elf is hiding. Something that makes me doubt her.” She blew out a troubled breath. “But you are right… Her actions thus far have been above reproach. I will make more of an effort with the whiesper.”

  “Thank you, Adra,” he said solemnly.

  The two fell silent. Kyran glanced back at the cliff wall. Gaesin was already halfway up. Changing the topic, he asked, “Any sign of the packs chasing us yet?”

  Adra shook her head. “None. Perhaps they’ve stopped to rest.” She glanced at the three worgs resting at Kyran’s feet. “What are you going to do with them once we reach the top?”

  Kyran had been wondering that as well. “I suppose I will have to free them. But—”

  He broke off as Adra suddenly stilled. “What is it?” he asked, rising swiftly.

  “Feet,” she replied. “I hear the tramp of marching feet.” She cocked her head and glanced up the escarpment wall. “From up there.”

  As Kyran followed her gaze, the colour drained from his face. On the cliff’s heights, an ogre warband had appeared.

  ✽✽✽

  Mirien heaved on the rope.

  Gaesin was manging the climb much better than she expected and was halfway to the top already. She gazed downwards. There were no signs of the worg hunting parties yet, and it appeared as if they would escape unscathed.

  Her eyes drifted to where Adra and Kyran sat. The two appeared deep in conversation. Now what can they be talking about? Mirien wondered. She scowled. No doubt, the wolven was trying to convince Kyran not to trust her again.

  Her attempts at winning over the free agent would have been much easier without the wolven’s presence, but she had to admit that even though Adra was a devout follower of the gods—and what is the scout doing pledged to the free agent if that was the case?—she had treated Mirien far better than the whiesper had expected.


  She sighed. The wolven seemed a woman of integrity. Despite her intense dislike of Mirien, vocally expressed on many an occasion, Adra had not stooped to the depths that others of the gods’ devout would have. Mirien had fully expected to fend off attempts at murder in her sleep, or to have her food poisoned. It was behaviour she had come to anticipate from the gods’ faithful. If only—

  Motion at the corner of her eye caught her attention. She glanced downwards. Adra and Kyran were running towards the cliff’s base. What are they shouting? She couldn’t make out their words, but Kyran was frantically waving towards her right.

  Mirien glanced in the direction he pointed and nearly dropped the rope she held in her shock.

  Marching towards her were some forty-odd ogres. Impossible, she thought, swallowing sudden fear. It was Gnarok’s warband, grown larger since their previous encounter. How had they scaled the escarpment? There weren’t supposed to be any paths up to these heights.

  But that didn’t matter right now. The party was in no position to meet this threat. Not here and not now. She would have to flee back down the escarpment. But…she realised with a sudden lurch in her gut, Gaesin was still stuck on the wall. “Gaesin,” she shouted frantically, “stop climbing!”

  The half-elf looked up in confusion. “What?”

  “Gnarok’s warband is up here! Climb back down. Quickly!”

  Gaesin turned his gaze west, and his face turned pale. “I don’t—I can’t…”

  “There’s no time, Gaesin,” Mirien shouted fiercely. “Hurry!”

  Gulping fearfully, the half-elf bobbed his head in acknowledgment and started scrambling back down.

  Adra and Kyran had reached the base of the cliff and were staring up. “I’m sending him back,” Mirien shouted.

  Kyran nodded. His gaze jumped from Mirien and Gaesin to the approaching ogres, and he appeared to reach the same conclusion Mirien had. Gaesin was not going to reach the cliff’s base before the ogres reached her. The free agent’s mouth worked soundlessly, the conflict on his face clear. He was torn on what to do.

 

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