Hellbound (Saga Online #2) - A Fantasy LitRPG Read online

  Hellbound

  Saga Online

  Oliver Mayes

  Contents

  Prologue – The Fall

  1. Good Intentions

  2. Home Is Where the Heart Is

  3. Test Your Might

  4. One Small Step Forward for a Man

  5. One Giant Leap Back for Mankind

  6. Quid Pro Quo

  7. This is Getting Out of Hand

  8. The World is a Vampire

  9. Breach

  10. Facing Your Demons

  11. The Inner Circle

  12. Piggy in the Middle

  13. Serving the ‘Byam’

  14. The Dark Tower

  15. Memory Lane

  16. Square One

  17. What We Do in the Shadows

  18. Walk the Line

  19. Break the Endless Loop

  20. Give and Receive

  21. In the Presence of Greatness

  22. Hide and Seek

  23. Ka is a Wheel

  24. The View from Halfway Down

  25. Two Sides of the Same Coin

  26. Dance with the Devil

  27. The Turn

  28. Hearts and Minds

  29. Quadruple Jeopardy

  30. Faith, Steel and Gunpowder

  31. Why Do I Hear Boss Music?

  32. Order Versus Order, Chaos Versus Chaos

  33. Conqueror’s Will

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  More LitRPG from Portal Books

  Join the Group

  Hey Stacy. It’s been difficult, being without you this last year. I’m sorry our life together was trampled on. But it’s okay. I’ll find my way back to you and we’ll build an even better one.

  This is for you. X

  Thanks to the incredible Portal Books Team, especially my long suffering Editor Michael R. Miller and shorter but more intensely suffering Copy-Editor Richard, for their outstanding work whipping this into shape.

  Prologue – The Fall

  It was the seventh day since Aetherius first met Damien, and he should’ve been resting by now. Things had not gone according to plan.

  You have been killed by ‘Scorepeeus63’. Your experience has been reset to the start of your current level and your body may be looted, at which point a random item of equipped gear will be forfeit.

  Remember, it’s only a game!

  Death cooldown – 2 minutes and 26 seconds.

  Thank you for playing Saga Online.

  Daemien had won the competition. Adler, the CEO of Mobius Enterprises himself, had announced it just after midnight. A month-long lead over a worldwide contest thrown away by a vengeful ex-girlfriend, a brat with the luck of the devil and a nine-year-old noob-ody in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  He might’ve lost the competition, but Aetherius was still the leader of the largest guild with the most bases and the most clout. Or at least he had been. Now he wasn’t sure. Aetherius’s leadership had been highly effective, but it had not made him or his guild a great many friends. With his defeat being advertised all over the internet, the many guilds he’d stepped over on his road to conquest were circling Rising Tide’s twitching corpse. Daemien had removed the head. Now the rest of the Human Realm were coming to take revenge on what was left.

  Godhammer, led by Hammertime himself, had attacked and retaken Rising Tide’s waiting room four hours ago. Godhammer’s assault left less than half the defending force guarding the waiting room alive, weakening them for the next guild that opted to reclaim a piece of Aetherius’s pie. Then the next. Then the next.

  Whatever Aetherius was going to do, he had to do it fast. So here Andrew lay. Waiting the last few seconds to salvage whatever was left. The timer ticked down to zero and the list of locations where he could respawn came up. He’d once had tens of locations to choose from. Now there were only three: the Downward Spiral, where he’d died. Ker-Uhel, his character’s native homeland. And one last meaningful base. Aetherium. Which was highlighted in red, indicating it was under attack.

  It was a shock to see how much he’d lost, but if there was one base he would’ve chosen to save, this was it. If it could be saved, he’d have a platform to rebuild from.

  Aetherius apparated next to the Portal Stone in his seat of power, the blue sphere that shielded players as they spawned shimmering away, and took in the scene. It was chaos. The courtyard was swarming with players, their basic information blue if they were guild-mates, red if they were hostile and gray if they were dead. There were a lot of gray names. It was only when he saw two blue-named players attacking each other, both their names turning red simultaneously, that he realized what was happening.

  His guild was cannibalizing itself.

  Aetherius didn’t hesitate. It had been a long campaign. Killing traitors was second nature at this point. He threw his arms out and fired Arcane Bolts in expanding circles around him, eliminating nearby threats first and clearing his vicinity. The first traitors were struck before they even knew what was happening, the bolts bursting on impact and throwing the less constitutionally gifted of them into the paths of those following in their wake.

  The turncoats ran for cover, pushing each other out the way and even using their neighbors as human shields, if they possessed the strength and moral ambivalence necessary to do so. Aetherius had created enough of an opening to consider his next move when his Arcane Bolt barrage came to a premature end. He was out of mana. Already.

  Aetherius raised his hands up in front of him and glared at them incredulously, adding his favorite spell to a rapidly growing list of traitors. This couldn’t be right! He’d min-maxed his character and his spells were more expensive than average, but he had enough wisdom on his gear to compensate. He hadn’t even fired half of his maxi— which is when he noticed his wrists were bare.

  The bracers he’d painstakingly sourced and grinded for, stacked with wisdom and with a special ability granting mana-cost reduction for spells channeled through them, were gone. For a bare-handed caster, this was the equivalent of losing his weapon. He’d been wondering what might’ve been looted from his body following his death. Now was not a good time to find out it had been something crucial to his build.

  He didn’t have long. Some of the enemies were already starting to turn around. The bracers had been very important to him, but at least their loss meant he still had his trump card. He felt for the talisman under his robes, half doubting it would still be there. The moment his fingertips located the lump of metal hanging in the center of his chest, he folded his arms, started tapping his foot and addressed the regrouping attackers in a loud, calm voice.

  “Now that I have your attention, there’s no need for us to fight. I just want to talk.”

  He’d no sooner uttered the last word before focusing on a new one in his mind – Decoy. Then he sprinted toward the guild hall as fast as he could, picking his way between his enemies without them even sparing him a glance. He was invisible. Behind him stood a perfect replica of himself, copying his most recent action in a loop. Having threaded his way through the closing hostile ring as they hurled threats and insults at his decoy, Aetherius threw out a hand and willed a mana potion into it.

  Nothing happened.

  Of course. In addition to killing him, Damien had stolen his Bag of Holding. He had no inventory for potions, as opposed to the almost infinite supply he’d accustomed himself to over the course of the last month. Andrew had already considered that, and had tried to prepare himself for it, but old habits die hard. He twisted mid-run to avoid an assassin sprinting toward his decoy, only to have the same player unwitti
ngly bellow right into his earhole on his way past: “He’s doing the thing, the foot-tapping! Attack him quick so the re—”

  There was a thrum in Aetherius’s ears and he was visible again, still surrounded by skirmishes and opportunists. He’d expected a little more time. This was not a good crisis to face without a solid grasp of the situation. He was running toward the right place; there was a solid blue line of players, almost a raid party, standing in front of the guild headquarters. Many of them were players Aetherius had taken with him to the Downward Spiral. They’d extricated themselves from the skirmish and banded together to preserve Rising Tide’s core.

  Aetherius Blinked straight ahead, leaving the traitors behind and arriving among the blue-named players. Loyalty, perversely, is only quantifiable when times are tough. A state of affairs Aetherius had striven to avoid. It was only in the wake of his mistakes that these players could demonstrate their true worth. Aetherius was not surprised to see Judgementday among them.

  “Move, boss, they’re coming!”

  Aetherius looked between Judgementday and the rapidly approaching mob, holding his position. It appeared his arrival had given them something dangerous: a unified direction. Aetherius had come to help and had instead made himself a target. In normal circumstances he’d have dispatched them swiftly. But without his bottomless supply of potions, or indeed any potions at all, there was nothing he could do. Not for now, at least. He pushed Judgementday’s hands away and stared out at the mob. At the sea of ingrates he’d spent two months regulating and organizing, for their benefit as well as his own.

  Powerlessness was not something Aetherius was used to. Grudges, on the other hand, were his specialty. He started recording and swept his gaze across the battlefield, focusing on each hostile player for a fraction of a second to bring up their name. After he’d put down this rebellion, he’d review the footage at his own convenience and cross-reference it with his Personal Kill List. Then he’d personally track down every single one. Before getting started, he needed to retreat to the vault and pick up a utility belt and a pair of bracers. These enemies wouldn’t require endless potions. Five would be more than enough.

  He built up his naughty list for as long as he dared. It was only when the first arrow whistled past that he submitted to Judgementday’s pleading and the two of them turned tail. Once he and his best healer had passed the defensive line, Aetherius addressed the handful of followers who’d turned out to be somewhat loyal. They deserved a rallying speech. Aetherius wasn’t currently of the right mindset for such a task, so he gave them the simple version.

  “Hold them off. I’m replacing my lost gear in the vault. Then we’ll kill them all.”

  He opened the guild headquarters doors from his menu and paced through them, closing them behind him without looking back. The moment the outside noise had been muffled he broke into a run. He’d need as many of those defenders alive as possible if he was going to secure this place. They were a strong party and could likely keep them at bay for a while, but it would only take one or two serious mistakes and they’d all be overwhelmed. Aetherius had to be back in combat before that happened.

  He threw in the vault password as he approached. The mechanism at the center span and the doors swung open. The room beyond was lined with chests in neat rows. Each chest was assigned a different commodity. He knew where everything was. He’d organized it himself. Aetherius had spent a good third of his waking hours in this room over the last month, performing the unappreciated rituals of a good guild leader: allocating gear to people who’d earned it, checking on crafting output for sale, reimbursing successful guild quests, accepting or rejecting recruits, analyzing the trade market. The list went on and on. But his endeavors had been rewarding. Rising Tide had been an industrial powerhouse, hiding behind and feeding on glory and conquest.

  The holdings he’d built up to control trade routes were gone. His player base was tearing itself apart. But the profit from over a month’s worth of nearly a thousand players grinding was all contained in this room. As guild leader he’d had the option of storing it all in the King’s vault, right in the middle of Camelot. The fee had been extortionate: 8% of all riches stored paid in gold as tax to Camelot per week. Aetherius had always felt very smug to have his own vault in Aetherium instead. Right up until now.

  He went straight to his personal loot box, appropriating his utility belt and filling it to the brim. Bitterly, he severed the link his item chest had with the Bag of Holding. At least Damien had been disconnected before he could steal everything out of it. Once Aetherius was fully healed, he made for the far end of the vault. That’s where he kept the good stuff. He’d passed his desk in the center and had the caster bracers’ chest in his sights when there was a ping and a voice chat invitation popped up in his HUD:

  Voice Chat Invitation: Magnitude, Gamer ID 000397, A/D

  No. Not now. This was a different situation, Richard couldn’t expect him to show up right away. He pointedly canceled the call and had no sooner reached the first chest than a black orb pulsed in front of him and expanded to a swirling disc, two meters high and one wide. The portal. Aetherius had always thought it could only be used on party members. There was a ping as Magnitude started calling him again. This could obviously not wait.

  Even if he put down this rebellion, the team Magnitude worked with were a far worse long-term threat. Aetherius had pledged to win the competition for them and they’d given him plenty of assistance in that regard. Now their prize racehorse had fumbled the lead, begetting questions requiring answers. But did they really have to be answered right now? The continued ringing of the incoming call suggested that yes, they did.

  Magnitude hadn’t made any contact with Aetherius in a long time. Things had been especially tense the last couple of days, after Aetherius had asked him for a new Pegasus mount. To replace the one Damien had killed. Magnitude had listened to the request and abruptly hung up without a word. The Pegasus mount was in his base the very next morning, but it was clear his brother’s goodwill was gone. His first duty was to his brother. Even before his own guild. He’d just have to make it fast. Andrew curled his fists and stepped through the portal.

  Upon arrival he was surprised to find it dark, aside from the portal’s own light. Usually they had a wisp recording meetings. He’d only ever met with his brother in here, but the rest of the group had always been watching through the wisp. Or so he was told. There hadn’t been any meetings for weeks. Everyone had already decided that Aetherius’s victory was inevitable. There’d only been one issue on which Aetherius and his allies had not seen eye to eye. From there, it had quickly spun out of control.

  The ringing of the voice chat came to an end and Richard’s voice echoed off the walls of the cave.

  “I want you to tell me why you did it.”

  Aetherius span round toward the voice, but still couldn’t see anything. One of Magnitude’s racial traits was that he could see in the dark. Tentatively, Aetherius cast his own wisp and sent it to float gently forward through the air, walking with it and leaving the portal behind. Magnitude’s voice came back, almost right in front of him.

  “That’s close enough. I said, tell me why you did it.”

  Aetherius stopped, his hands by his sides. This was much colder than he was used to.

  “Did what? I’ve got a guild war to resolve, so if you could get to the poi—”

  “We specifically told you to boost Damien, look after him, make a joint streaming video and give him a positive community experience. What did you do?”

  “You gave me an opportunity and I—”

  “—kicked him into the Downward Spiral. Right after he told you his mother was in hospital. I saw the video you were kind enough to record for us, the full, unedited recap. Setting the stupidity of it aside, what kind of psychopath does that to a fan?”

  “That’s the image this character has! He isn’t a charity worker, he’s ruthless! That’s why I’ve got so many votes. People like hi
m this way!”

  Magnitude abruptly stomped forward out of the darkness, equipped from head to toe in full battle gear. It was quite a sight. His entire body was coated in jade, a whole suit of armor carved out of rare stone with magical healing properties. Aetherius had never seen anything like it. There were hundreds of individual articulated pieces, most of them concentrated over joints to allow full range of movement. It looked heavy. It felt heavy when the wrist piece fell across Aetherius’s neck and held him up by the scruff of it. Magnitude would’ve pushed Aetherius off his feet, if the dwarf had been a little taller and the elf a little shorter.

  “Had. You had so many votes. Because you couldn’t just push Damien off any old high place, could you?”

  He tightened his grip and braced a little harder, pushing Aetherius up onto his tippy-toes.

  “No, that wouldn’t have been insulting enough. So you brought him to the dungeon we specifically told you to leave alone after you’d cleared it. You might’ve been surprised Damien didn’t die from the fall but you shouldn’t have been, given the warnings we gave you. Your disobedience led directly to the end of your streaming career. I’ve got to tell you, when Damien won some of us were cheering. Not me. I was upset.”

  Magnitude span his arms around and Aetherius followed them over his head in a circle, down into the floor. Magnitude’s level and class were still a mystery, both appearing above his head as a string of question marks, but he definitely had the strength and constitution to be wearing that armor. He knelt on Aetherius’s chest, pinning him to the ground.