Neck-Deep In It: A LitRPG and GameLit Series. Page 23

  Congratulations! You have successfully completed the Secret Quest of Spirit Walker. You are the first living being to have passed over into the Realm of Spirits and returned. You have gained 2000 Experience Points. You have gained 200 to Reputation. Due to your unique connection with your Wraith Pack, you now carry an aura of the spectral about you, and anyone that you associate with will unconsciously feel its effects. This will cause some people to shy away from you while attracting others. You have gained the title, Spirit Walker. Due to the unique way you were transported into the Realm of Spirits and your soul connection to the Wraith Pack, you have gained the unique skill, Spirit Walker I. Know that the Realm of Spirits is the gateway to many other realms of existence. Each use of your new skill will open up additional opportunities that may become available depending on your overall skill and the decisions you make within the Realm of Spirits. Lastly, be careful to not lose too much of your living essence least you turn into a Wraith yourself.

  Skill: Spirit Walker I.

  Trigger Time: Instant

  Required Components: Blood of the caster (drop)

  Description: Allows the person triggering the ability to step into or out of the Spirit Realm. Requires Spirit Walker I. Target is self only.

  “Who would’ve thought?” Conner murmured under his breath, before throwing his head back and letting out a guffawing laugh.

  Chapter Thirteen

  (Zeven Al'Zaric passing through the Dwarven mountain range.)

  “Maybe we should’ve taken that left back at Albuquerque,” Zeven jokingly said to Bright Claw, as he tiredly came to a stop to read the sign next to the overgrown road, The Mining Town of Kragrock. Using a calloused palm to cover his hairy brow, his eyes studied the small town up ahead that seemed to hang on the side of the mountain like a scar.

  From this distance, it looked like a small Arizona mining town about the size of Fairbanks. You know, after it became a ghost town and all, Zeven thought with a laugh. Even though it looked deserted from this distance, he could clearly see trails of smoke rising above the trees in the distance. Honestly, it would be worth calling it a day if they could get a decent meal and a room for the night. Besides the experience bonus for getting a “good night’s sleep” wasn’t anything to sneeze at.

  While Zeven could’ve taken the easier road that led to the lowlands and spent the night in Haldale, he’d nixed that for a few reasons. The first was that it was somewhat of a detour from the straight line of travel that he’d been following to Nahi. The second was that it just would’ve made it that much easier for the group of triple “A” players that was sure to be coming after them to get information of their passing.

  Lastly, if he was going to be able to stand against those sick fucks, then he needed to do some serious leveling up. Hence, his decision to travel down the overgrown path that cut through the mountains on its way to Aeroch Nor. Not that he planned on trying to visit the Dwarven Capital, getting into the Gnome cities were trouble enough and they regularly did business with the Beast Kin cities. If what he’d heard from the rumor mill was true, the Dwarves were much worse.

  “BbbrrraH,” Bright Claw sharply bleated behind him as the cub plopped down on his rear with his hind legs sticking straight out like a bear.

  “Yeah, I’m tired too,” Zeven agreed, cracking his neck as he patted Bright Claw on his furry back. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get a decent meal and a room for the night in the town up ahead.”

  The last two hours they’d spent running from death in the high-level zone they’d been forced to pass through on their way here had been no joke, Zeven incredulously shook his head at it all, and he’d been complaining about the level 30 to 40 zone that they’d been forced to fight their way through before that. While it hadn’t been easy, as long as they’d stayed alert and bypassed the larger packs, they’d been able to manage the lone hunters well enough.

  Zeven had to admit that having a Grizhawk for a pet wasn't anything to sneeze at. At first, he’d discounted the little guy’s general usefulness with anything other than trying to eat him out of his supply of raw meat. That was until he’d seen the cub’s stunning growth spurt. Luckily, Zeven had taken the time earlier to skin and dress all the beasts that he’d fought or he’d have been sorely pressed to keep the new addition to his team happy.

  In a day and a half of leveling, the cub had nearly quadrupled in size. Though he was still obviously a cub, there was no doubt in Zeven’s mind that he was going to be as big, if not bigger, than his mother. How that would work in the future with entering into a city or getting a room for the night, he honestly didn’t know, but it was definitely going to be a problem.

  On the flip side, Bright Claw had no problem tanking a few level twenty monsters until Zeven could work his way around to kill them all. Though, the cub was still too low of a level to do much in the way of damage, his hide was thicker than Zeven’s and he already had a hit point pool that a level 20 Advance Start player would’ve been proud to have. With the two of them working together, they’d mowed through the lower-level areas without breaking a sweat.

  It was honestly some of the most fun leveling that he’d had up to now, Zeven melancholy thought, or, at least, it would’ve been if not for his growing concern for Nahi and what was happening to her. There were no doubts now in his mind that she was being regularly beaten and left half dead to break her spirit to make her more compliable. Further than that, Zeven didn’t even want to consider what might be happening.

  Letting out a ragged breath, Zeven did his best to push away the rage that always threatened to overwhelm him whenever his thoughts went down that ugly path. If any of his friends or family knew about the ugly side of The World, there was no doubt in Zeven’s mind that they’d be confused as to why he would want to continue playing such a game. In truth, the dark aspects of The World were what made the game so addicting … what made it so real. It gave him a true sense of accomplishment, especially when the great evils in the real world had all but been conquered.

  When Zeven had entered the Navy, he’d been filled with patriotism to defend American values and promote democracy around the world. But, somewhere along the way, that had begun to change. More and more, it seemed like the service members that he served with were being used more to protect corporate interests than fighting against tyranny and promoting democracy. It had almost been a relief when he’d been discharged for losing his leg.

  Unfortunately, returning back to civilian life had been an even greater shock. Upon arriving back in the states, Zeven had felt like a stranger in a strange land. It was like the very values that he’d grown up believing and fighting for had come under assault. Instead of young people being taught to fight against genocidal dictators and iron-fisted totalitarian regimes that slaughtered millions, without even realizing it, they’d been turned into the very things they’d been taught to hate and woe be to anyone who dared to disagree with any part of their beliefs.

  Maybe, it was simply that the newer generations led such privileged lives that the small annoyances other generations took for being part of the human condition were now thought to be great injustices that had to be fought against at all costs. Honestly, that difference alone made Zeven sometimes feel like he’d grown up in a completely different world at times. One in which he’d been expected to work hard to get ahead in life, knowing that it was solely up to him to succeed or fail and no one else.

  That was probably why The World felt more like home to him than the real world did now. Zeven respected the people of The World. Besides having both of his legs, the rules were easy to understand. Good and bad was clear cut. People were either trying to kill you and take all of your stuff or they were friends and allies that could be trusted. You either worked hard to have enough food to eat for the next day and throughout the winter or you starved to death. It was amazing how such basic truths cut through all of the modern-day bullshit that people on Earth had their panties in a knot over. Zeven’s internal contempla
tion was interrupted by another sharp bleat from Bright Claw.

  “I already told you that you’re not getting any of the Honey-Glazed Eldridge Berry pies in my rucksack,” Zeven said, doing his best to keep a stern look on his face. It was a lot harder than you’d think with the pitiful look on Bright Claw’s furry face. “Not after scarfing up all those pies on that Gnome’s wagon without my permission.”

  Zeven was sure that any other players hearing their conversation would’ve thought he was being cruel, but he had to teach the Grizhawk to listen to his commands now, when he was little. Otherwise, there would be no way he could ever enter a town with an out-of-control Grizhawk the size of a mini-bus that ate everything in sight. Let alone, having to worry about Bright Claw attacking someone out of hand. Being ran out of Tulduroc for terrorizing the local pie vendor was bad enough, he didn’t need the guards after him for unintentionally PVP’ing some dumbass.

  “Bbbwwwaaa gggrrr bbbaaaa,” Bright Claw pitifully whined.

  “Yes, you were very good today with following my orders,” Zeven agreed, “even when we had to run away from all of those high-level mobs.”

  “Bbbwaaaw ggrrraahhh,” the cub hopefully asked.

  “I might even be willing to give you a bite or two of my pie for dessert, but only if you’re good when we’re in Kragrock. Otherwise, you get nothing,” Zeven warned, before continuing down the overgrown path. “Come on, BC.”

  “Braaahhh,” the cub complained as he rolled stiff-legged to the side to land on his paws.

  Honestly, the Grizhawk cub was a good boy, Zeven thought, surprised to find himself looking forward to seeing the mining town. It was kind of cool that he might be able to see how Fairbanks might have looked in its prime. Though, in truth, a part of him was nervous at how the Dwarves might react to his presence. Zeven was quickly learning that each race had their own prejudices when it came to their interactions between the various races of The World. While the Gnomes of Tulduroc hadn’t outright attacked him or banned him from entering their cities, the aggressive rudeness he’d had to deal with from the gate guards to the individual citizens passing by on the streets had been less than enjoyable. He was just mentally preparing for what was to come, when a system window popped open before his eyes as he passed the town’s sign.

  New Open-World Quest! Save the Dwarven Mining Town of Kragrock from complete destruction!

  A Beithir has come up from deep underground via the mine shaft to attack the Mining Town of Kragrock. Save the residents and the town from total destruction by killing or driving away this vicious monster.

  Warning! This quest will fail if all the townsfolk die!

  23/250 Dwarves Alive.

  Objective: Kill or drive away the Beithir and save the town’s people.

  Difficulty: Nightmare.

  Reward: Experience and increased reputation with the Kingdom of Sayr.

  Accept: Yes / No

  For a stunned moment, Zeven’s eyes blankly stared at the message before his eyes as he tried to think of what to do. While a part of him wanted to simply accept the quest, the more calculating part of his mind noted that nearly all of the townsfolk were already dead. Did he really want to get involved if it meant automatically failing the quest? If that happened, how low would his reputation then be with the Dwarves? As those thoughts went through Zeven’s mind, he heard a chorus of children’s screams in the distance as one of the wooden structures near the edge of town exploded.

  “Fuck my life,” Zeven growled in frustration as the decision to act was made for him. Why did it have to be children that were in jeopardy? With a mental flick of his eyes, he accepted the quest as an alert Bright Claw came up to stand next to him. Doing his best to ignore the horrible feeling of déjà vu from the memories of his own Blaidd Ogof Hold being destroyed, Zeven hurriedly began casting his combat buffs.

  It was quite the list as he went through both of his Shaman trees. Might of the Bear, Agility of the Squirrel, Stamina of the Wolf, Bark Skin, Speed of the Hare, Nature’s Protection, Wisdom of the Owl, and Strike of an Adder completed his available Essence Shaman spells. The first batch took an agonizing twenty seconds as he made sure Bright Claw was buffed up to the gills too. All the while, the screams of the fearful and dying continued to grow in intensity from the direction of the town in-between the thunderous hissing of some massive monster. The cacophony was like something straight out of a Jurassic Park movie.

  The air itself seemed to vibrate with the clash of iron and the sounds of battle as Zeven focused on casting his Spirit Shaman buffs next. Soul Biter, Spirit Armor, Fortify Spirit, and Spirit Seeker, it was another twelve seconds of straight casting as a series of thunderous cracks rang out across the side of the mountain drowning out nearly all other sounds. Silently hoping that his new spell to see spirits wouldn’t negatively affect his combat ability, Zeven took a solid grip on the shaft of the Spirit Lochaber of Chieftain Diongmhalta with both hands as he came to an end to his casting.

  “Come on, BC,” Zeven shouted to be heard as he nodded to the Grizhawk, “let’s do this!”

  Taking off at a fast sprint, Zeven headed up the twisty road towards Kragrock with Grizhawk loping on his heels. Due to how the road followed along the contours of the mountain, they were still a good half mile away. Though he couldn’t see much of the town or any of the fighting that was going on through the heavy foliage of the forest, Zeven could clearly see the brilliant flashes of actinic light that were immediately being followed by sharp cracks of what sounded like thunder.

  While the logical part of Zeven’s mind found the sharp retorts disconcerting enough that the fur on the nape of his neck was standing on end, at the same time, any of the fear that he should’ve been feeling was drowned out by the surge of adrenaline that had begun burning through his veins. In its wake was left the familiar raw bestial rage that filled his mind with a sense of overwhelming power. As his thick-black lips pulled back from his fangs in an unconscious snarl, it felt like there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish in that moment.

  The effect was truly unlike any rush that Zeven had ever experienced in his real life before joining The World as everything became crystal clear around him. The pumping of his muscular legs, the feel of the rocky ground beneath his clawed padded feet, the tightening of his biceps and rock-hard abs as he gripped the shaft of the Spirit Lochaber to his chest while the tips of his claws dug into his palms, and the feel of the wind of his passing ruffling the longer tuffs of fur on his head. How the FIVR neurological interface managed such realism, Zeven didn’t know, but after a long gaming session, he never wanted to go back to his own body in the real world.

  In that moment, Zeven felt more alive than he’d ever felt before in his entire life. It didn’t matter that he might die in agonizing pain from defending strangers that he’d never met before. As he climbed the last rise to Kragrock and saw the mutilated bodies of men, women, and children strewn across the ground in bloody pieces, Zeven innately knew in his heart that stopping the rampaging monster was the right thing to do as he charged into the town.

  Even in his enraged state and fifty yards back from the nearest buildings, Zeven’s enhanced senses began taking in the tactical situation. His black nose easily picked up the sharp tang of blood that hung heavy in the air intermixed with the familiar stench of death, the odor of musky reptile, and the distinctive burnt metal smell of ozone. His silver-blue eyes took in the still smoking blown-out hole that ran through the squat four-storey inn-like structure with burned and blackened bodies strewn across the ground, the half-destroyed long-house that sat kitty-corner to the inn and looked as if it had been physically crushed, and the groupings of several half-exploded cooked bodies that looked to be Dwarven Defenders with melted armor seemed to have been taken out where they stood, while his black-tipped ears twitched at the distinctive sounds of battle still coming from the main square of the town. It all built a mental picture as to the enemy he faced.

  Reaching into the pouch at his wa
ist, Zeven pulled out two vials as he ran, gulping them down one after another. The first was a Minor Elemental Resistance Potion that temporarily increased his resistance to all elemental magic by fifteen percent for five minutes, while the second was a temporary Lesser Enhanced Armor Potion that temporarily increased his armor class by two hundred and fifty points for an hour. Zeven had picked up both potions to help him complete his Nightmare quest but then hadn’t ended up using them for the final fight. Now though, something in his subconscious was warning him that he was going to need every advantage possible to make it through the coming battle.

  “My axe can’t pierce the beast’s scales,” a heavily accented Dwarven voice cried out as Zeven came racing into the town’s square.

  Coming to a sliding stop, Zeven could only stare in horror at the desperate shit-show going down in front of him as he automatically triggered Identify. Warptooth the Thunderstrike, the level 50 Elite Beithir that was attacking Kragrock, was a monstrosity of immense proportions that daunted the mind. The closest thing Zeven could relate the creature to was from this one time he'd gone diving with a pod of Blue Whales in The Azores of Portugal when his ship had a long stopover in Rota, Spain. Only where the Blue Whales were graceful giants of immense proportions, the Beithir was a nightmarish terror that was actively slaughtering everyone in sight.

  The Beithir was some sort of weird mix of serpent and lizard. The monster’s thick, heavily scaled coils looked to be wrapped around three-quarters of the town’s square, while the size of its serpent head was as large as an African Bush elephant and that wasn’t including the cobra-like armored hood that was aggressively flared out behind its head. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it had two muscular front legs that ended in three sword-length clawed fingers that it was using to blast a Dwarven Spear Line back.