Demonborn's Fjord

by Dante Sakurai

  “Good.”

  “Can I wear it now? It’ll be full set, and ya know what that means.”

  “I do.” Ayla walked a couple of steps closer, her hips swaying. She hsf the scent of spider musk and acid. She lifted the amulet’s chain and handed it over with no second thoughts.

  As Gabrielle equipped it, the valley further darkened as though it were now midnight during a new moon.

  Moons. The second moon was passing in front of the sun’s upper half, making the eclipse complete. An oily texture permeated the air—dark magic. The sad feeling of malice was dilute, then intensified a hundred fold.

  Out of nowhere, a flock of black crows flapped through the trees, fleeing.

  Gabrielle mumbled, “Uh oh.”

  Spamming pings, Rowan hauled slave threads.

  The chatbox madly beeped.

  Viola Everbright (To Rowan and Gabby LeMort): Lights Justice has a raid party at Jin’tal’s place!

  Rowan did not have a chance to even think about what that meant as the ground shook, as Mossy’s waxy nest fell apart and disintegrated. Cracks spread under his feet. Branches animated. Roots were unearthing. The trees were alive. Ents.

  The nearest one stepped out of its resting hole.

  Mutated Pine Ent (Level 14, Enraged)

  Health: 100%

  Only level 14.

  A branch slammed down.

  “Cresentia,” Rowan whispered with a flick of his of arm. Arc of hellfire sliced off its branch and tore into its trunk. Its health bar dipped to half. Its animation faltered.

  Finding strength, the Ent straightened and slammed with its other branch.

  “Thrustra.” He stabbed with both hands over his head, sprinter faster.

  Twin hellfire lances erased its glowing eyes. Dead.

  A second Ent, Level 15, was already up and flailing.

  “Cresentia.” Gabrielle copied his move to a tee. An arc of pitch black mana and bifurcated an Ent. Miasma ate away at its branches and leaves. Sixty percent health gone in one hit.

  Muttering a word, Ayla finished the job with a cross cut of her twin daggers to the Ent’s base.

  Dead.

  “We win!” Gabrielle chirped.

  Vibrations rumbled in the ground. The ancient manawood took on a red luster.

  “Ah, I spoke too soon? Hehe.”

  “Retreat,” he barked. “Back to the base!”

  And they moved in reserve formation, cutting down Ents one at a time before a cosmic horror’s birth. By some Lucky chance, they made it to the mountain pass before its mutating process was done. All of a sudden, Voron’s riddle made sense.

  59

  Jonathan was running for his life, for Idra’s life, and for his guildmates’ lives. Behind him, a monstrous tree the size of three elder dragons groaned in pursuit, raining down leaves and bark harder and sharper than dragonsteel darts. One tore into the back of his thigh His run degraded into a one-legged hop.

  He tripped on a root. He tasted dirt and worms. This was it. The end. Death number one. He was going to be out of the draw for deathless adventurers.

  Oh well.

  Then Dorian was there. He laid a bare palm on Jonathan’s back, then mouthed a word in the mystic language. Fire burned away the dark forest and dark sky. Golden light washed away pain, a feeling of peace making it all right again. Jonathan was pulled to his feet.

  “Come on,” Misty urged. “Run!”

  Idra’s jaw snapped in agreement.

  And once again he was running for his life toward the gap between the mountains—their only hope. No way the tree could fit there, a perfect choke point to chip it to death one Crescent Slash at a time. He seized this hope, swallowed a vial of Agility Potion, and ran with the legs of a dragon-bonded demigod. He ran until he could run no more, and then he ran at twice the speed.

  His head lightened. His heart skipped beats. A foreign magic seeped into his head. He had never felt so alive with adrenaline pumping at a thousand beats a minute. He had never ran so fast before with the world smudged to a streaky blur. It had been years since he had ran. Since that horrible accident that robbed him of his legs. Years of pain. Years of sadness.

  Rays of light sliced through the canopy. Darkness was passing.

  But Jonathan did not care. Laughing like a child, he ran ahead of Lance and Aiden. His burning legs took him onto a path of stump that had been trampled on recently. He hurdled over the stumps two by two, three by three. These powerful legs were never going to fail him. He was Jonathan the unleashed. He was Jonathan the un-chaired.

  Up the slope, the forest abruptly ended where stony ground emerged through thinning soil. He was a hundred yards from the gap when he saw giant spider of adamantite. A whole raid party was was in retreat. Elven and Human eyes beneath slave brands locked onto Jonathan. And two horrible blood-red reptilian eyes.

  Demons.

  Rowan and Gabby LeMort. Their magic was unreal. Happy, fun, playful. Intoxicating. Jonathan had not ever felt so alive!

  Among them stood Tasha NaMuso.

  Time slowed. Rage erupted. Jonathan charged head on with an unstoppable force rising from his gonads. “Yaaaaaaaarrrrhhh!” His sword was drawn. The strength of the Dragonriders rushed into the blade, delivering justice of the light. “This is for Stonehurst!”

  Rowan LeMort’s face was calm without emotion. He dashed forth holding a flaming sword of darkness. A diagonal uppercut parried Jonathan’s downward chop. The clash of metal on metal sent painful vibrations up his arms. His sword fell out of his grip.

  Rowan’s stance shifted and drew back into a coil. A cobra striking, his flaming sword lashed out in a tide of happiness.

  Jonathan’s heartbeat vanished. There was no pain. There was little heat. These black and bloody flames were destruction incarnate. His fingers jittered toward a circular hole that had punched all the way through.

  Someone screamed. Misty.

  “Jonathan!” Lance roared.

  Everything went dark.

  You have died! Respawning at Oakwood Castle in 1 minute and 59 seconds.

  60

  There, a woman with short hair in a white gown held high a white staff. A healer? As a heartless corpse rolled downhill, Rowan pinged Skylar to take her out. Now! Always take out the healers without delay.

  On cue, a sonic arrow impaled her midriff. She screamed. Her staff dropped.

  “Jonathan!” a man in a suit of mithril yelled. “Misty!”

  The arrow stick out of Misty exploded in a shower of blood and guts. Dead.

  Others ran to the forest’s edge: an Archer, a Mage, a Rogue, another Swordsman, and a baby dragon. They were all wearing the same navy-blue cloaks with King Ralston’s phoenix insignia, and they were all heavily injured, bleeding. Their Archer had arrows in his quiver, their Rogue was clutching wounds on his stomach, their backup Swordsman was not in a position to fight from the low-ground, and their Mage…

  Their handsome young Mage smartly drank a health potion. Good on him.

  The dragon prodded the dead Swordsman’s hand. Its long head dipped in sorrow, pitifully. Ruby scales glinted under sunbeams, sunbeams that had put an end to the cosmic horror’s rampage. These raiders from Light’s Justice had simply shown up at the wrong time. No, at the exact right time—with a baby dragon of all creatures.

  ? : Red Dragon Whelp (Level 7)

  Health: 100%

  Rowan smiled. “You brought a whelp to a giant spider fight. You should’ve brought its parents instead. I hope this buffoon of a Swordsman didn’t kidnap it.”

  Their Knight of mithril armor thawed and animated. Its gauntlet scratched its feather-decorated helmet. “Well, this is awkward.”

  “Indeed,” Rowan said.

  “Indeed,” Gabrielle mimicked. “What is your business here, Mister Knight?”

  A throat inside the mithril armor cleared. “I, Lance Rider, leader of guild Light’s Justice, hath come to deliver a message. By order of King Ralston the third, Rowan and Gabby Le
Mort are to be captured for interrogation regarding dark events that has transpired at Trollheim… while Tasha NaMuso is to be re-tried in his court for releasing an Undead horde at Stonehurst. Thank you.”

  “Hmmm.” Gabrielle stroked her chine. “Tell King Ralston… we dun’ wanna go, and that… Tasha will be there shortly for her trial.”

  “What?” Tasha scoffed.

  “Just kidding! Hehehehe.”

  Lance’s helmet nodded mechanically. “We shall deliver your message, peacefully. Any other comments?”

  Skylar asked, “Are you the real Lance Rider? You know, from MyTube.” Of course, he had to ask.

  “I am, and I am surprised you are an adventurer. May I ask how you are a slave?”

  “Elf Slave legendary Fate.”

  “I heard rumors of that. I didn’t think it was real. Do you need any assistance?”

  “How about some seeds and livestock?”

  Their Mage answered, “No, we’re short on that ourselves.” His tone was cold.

  “Ah, that sucks.”

  “You’re a in a forest. Figure something out.”

  Gabrielle’s hands clapped together, “Don’t worry, we’re fine, and mind if I feature ya on my channel, Lance?”

  “By all means, I would be honored. You may also appear in my next video, though this encounter may be edited and cut short. I assure you will be portrayed fairly.”

  “That’s fine. Go ahead!”

  “Very well. Any other comments?” He paused. “If not, we—”

  Their backup Swordsman stepped out of the shade. “Tasha NaMuso, do you know who I am?”

  Tasha frowned at the lanky guy. “Do I? I don’t think so.”

  “I am Tom Silverwind!”

  A round of soft laughter rolled downhill as Tasha palmed her eyes. “Oh no, not this. Someone kill me, please.” She walked behind Mossy.

  Tom wasn’t finished: “Your actions killed hundreds of innocents. I cannot forgive you for your crime. I won’t rest until your character has been brought to justice. Do you understand?!”

  Tasha whined incoherently.

  Lance was chuckling. “Thank you, Tom, for making our stance clear. Take this as—”

  Their Rogue interrupted: “Ayla, what are you doing with them? Why are you a slave?”

  “Honestly? I was getting bored.” Ayla shrugged. “Thought it’d funner hanging out with these two. Turns out I’m right—it is funner. The slave thing is, in their words, for security reasons.”

  “Yup,” Gabrielle agreed. “All security. Nothing cruel or perverted, especially not perverted.”

  Their Rogue was slow to accept that. “Fine, whatever. And who’s that other guy? Your Knight.”

  “Luthias Elequin. I am a native of world.” He stepped to the front. “I must present the truth as is: Lord LeMort and his wife rescued six Sun Elf slaves from Trolls, and has claimed us as our debt to him. In comparison to our previous masters, he is a fair ruler. I, personally, am content and do not request aid from King Ralston.”

  Quite a touching declaration. Rowan was pleased. “Thank you, Luthias.”

  Lance nodded more mechanically than before. “Your words have been heard. If no one else has further comments… then, to you Rowan and Gabby LeMort, take this a warning. Expect our return. We will be stronger, and Idra here—” He gestured at the dragon. “—will dwarf your level thirty-four spider. Have a good Autumn.” He fetched a glass sphere from a scaled pouch at his hip. It shattered on the ground, and each of their bodies, including the two corpses and Idra, faded within vortexes of white and purple sparks. A recall enchantment stone.

  And that was that. Victory. Sweet, sweet victory.

  A mellow smile settled on Rowan’s lips as he stared down this ruined valley of uprooted trees in front of a black spot to the left of sparkling water. Pines were dark and twisted toward this end, and the mutated manawood tree had already decayed into mulch. Naturally, the gods were not going allow him metric tons of the most valuable species of wood.

  Rowan allowed himself a breath of fresh air. “Alright, back to work. Let’s search the mulch for loot gems. Chop chop.” He brushed through their slave threads, and the formation reserved back down into the valley with eager faces all around.

  “We did it, Row,” Gabrielle said, taking hold of his fingers. “We’re gonna be famous.”

  “I did do it.” He smirked his trademark smirk.

  She poked his funny bone. “Egocentric as ever.”

  “Me? What was with you talking as if you were the only leader.”

  She giggled. “I am the only leader.”

  “Not according to Draesear’s Idol.”

  “That’s just a magical gold skull, Row. I am the only leader because my Luck build carried us.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “Then how did we get so magically lucky? How did I summon a giant manawood Ent right when their raid was about to smack us?”

  His old facial tick squeezed his eye. “Don’t make me give you a brand.”

  “Do it, I dare ya, and we also missed our doctor’s appointment.”

  Oh. That. He had totally forgotten. “I’m sure we’re fine.” Cancer free.

  Another poke to his funny bone. “Dun’ forget to reschedule it. Actually, do it now. Logout. I’m serious. Row, are ya listening? Row? Row? Row?”

  Some things were never going to change. He hit logout button, and LeMort’s Hollow faded to black.

  Author’s Note

  Thank you for reading to the end.

  First off, there is a little secret (hinted at in the prologue) that I must divulge. This story is actually an alternate universe spin-off from my other LitRPG work, Aeon Chronicles Online. Many characters of that series appear here, including the main characters Rowan and Gabrielle. Although their personalities are similar, their back-stories, life experiences, motives, and goals are entirely different in Sortis Online. If you would like to read a darker adventure (that may have explicit content) about how Rowan and Gabrielle met and fell for each in a different universe, then feel free to check out Aeon Chronicles Online!

  Please review. All feedback, constructive criticism or encouragement, is appreciated.

  For news and updates on when my next book is coming out, join my news letter by clicking the link below.

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  Thank you again for reading and see you next book.

  -Dante Sakurai

  DanteSakuraiAuthor@gmail.com