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Class-A Threat (Disgardium Book #1) LitRPG Series Page 8
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Why did I seem to hear the word "gotcha?"
"Gotcha?"
The zombie nodded with enthusiasm:
"Oh-wah-ya!"
It was almost friendly, if he hadn't bit into my shoulder at the same time.
Brainless Zombie has damaged you: 8.
Health points: 15/23.
The pain drove me on. I braced my legs on the wall and gave a sharp push, yelping in pain. This zombie was stuck in the passage but had part of my hair and a piece of my flesh. I then rolled back into the middle of the wine cellar, dropping my weapon. The zombo, chewing what he'd bit off, looked after me disappointed, not trying to slip through the narrow gap. What a weird mob.
I picked up the club and cautiously came near. A miss... The zombie walked back, disappearing behind the door. Was he really brainless?
I changed the viewing angle and saw he was standing beyond where I could reach, looming in the hall. Seemingly, this one wouldn't be so easy to kill. Well, I guess I'd have to die.
Chapter Nine. Cursed Lich
THE "SMART" ZOMBIE sent me to respawn twenty times. After realizing that I respawned right where I died, he was always on guard, never going anywhere and waiting next to my body. In the space of a second, I wasn't always able to get off even one accurate blow, so I had to play on the element of surprise. Sometimes I went right to respawn, other times I waited the whole ten seconds.
He really had me whipped up, too. It was like he was mocking me, letting out belittling comments, laughing and even making indecent gestures. One time he didn't even kill me right away, walking a few yards back prudently. He made a whole speech, of which I didn't understand a thing except that it was a question.
"Ah-eegh uh-woh yeh-ah-yeh? Eegh oh eegh-wuh? Oh-wah ooh-wuh!" After that he shrugged and attacked.
I did kill him in the end. It seemed like he was letting himself be killed, and was even relieved. He was just so sick of it. And that was finally enough experience to push me over the equator: 210/400. The thought that levelling up would give me five more attribute points gave me strength. The only thing that really upset me was a growing thirst. I wanted to drink so badly I had to fight the desire to do make an emergency exit, crawl out of my pod and drink to my heart's content.
The loot from the zombie pack was a final reason to keep bearing it. For someone like Tissa, it was like gray shoddy stuff, not worthy even of a place in her inventory. But for me anything was a big help: the cloth Robber's Vest (+2 to armor), Worn-out Arm Braces (+1 to armor) and, best of all, Worn-out Shoes! Sure they gave just one point of armor, but now I wouldn't be barefoot! All in all it was worth a bit more than two silver, but I was not going to sell it. As soon as I got out of this idiotic ins I would finally get some clothes on.
After the room of walking dead, I went down the next corridor which had a couple skeletons on patrol. I had to mess with them for a bit, because one was carrying a round wooden shield, which he used deftly to protect himself from my blows. Those two took me a bit more than an hour, but in the end I got a rusty Flimsy Sword that did 3-4 damage, and immediately equipped it, putting the club in my inventory. The shield unfortunately did not drop. A few extra copper did though.
And I also got my first achievement. My body lit up for a second, illuminating the corridor. My mana and life were completely restored and, accompanied by a brief horn fanfare, in came a notification:
Achievement unlocked: I’m on Fire!
Defeat 15 enemies who are more than five times higher level than you.
Once is a coincidence. Ten times can happen. But fifteen? That's an achievement!
Reward: +10 health points.
Of course, I immediately forgot about my desperate thirst. This was starting to be fun.
In the hallway, I discovered another locked door but, after opening it, I found nothing but a room full of bones. I scratched it all up with my hands and feet, but there was nothing of value. Just trash – bones and chips of bone.
And then, the serious problems started. The next room had a platoon of skeleton archers. Sure, there weren't twenty or thirty, just four, but that was plenty for me. As soon as they saw me, they ran away a certain distance, shooting from afar.
Luckily, they didn't just stay in one place and kept wandering aimlessly, sometimes ending up right where my harried corpse fell. When that happened, I respawned and managed to land one or two Hammer blows. They had less health than the skeleton warriors so, as a rock can be sharpened by droplets, I eventually did the pack in. As a reward for my torments, I got Torn Leather Gloves giving +4 armor and worth twenty-six copper and four silver.
The next door was to the left and led to a room full of zombies. They were all of the brainless variety, and both packs of six I lured by throwing rat guts. They ran at me, and from there it went the same as the first pack of zombies, even though they didn't have a smart and talkative one. That just made it take less time. What was more, I started using the sword! Sure it only did two or three damage more than my club, but it was also just easier to use.
Achievement unlocked: I’m on Fire – 2!
Defeat 30 enemies who are more than five times higher level than you.
We are starting to suspect you're a cheater! Haha! Relax, it was a joke. But still... Thirty? Something just ain’t right!
Reward: +20 health points.
After that, I started to understand achievement chasers. No, seriously. They were nice enough all on their own, but also gave significant bonuses! My health points were already two and a half times higher than before, and that was all down to the achievements.
As for the loot, unfortunately just one thing fell, a low-quality Decayed Leather Helm (+3 to armor) and around fifteen copper. But now I was just about up to level two: 358/400. I also discovered a new skill:
One-Handed Swords skill discovered!
Damage dealt with a sword increased by 10%
Attack accuracy increased by 10%.
Current level: 1.
Improve this skill by fighting enemies of your level or higher for additional bonuses and new special attacks.
You have learned a new special attack: Sneak Attack!
Cost to use: 2 mana points.
Deals 150% of normal damage.
You have received experience points for discovering a new skill: 10.
Experience points at present level (1): 368/400.
It was just about four o'clock in the morning. Now I was so thirsty not only was my throat parched, my eyes were starting to stick together. And in the game I experienced the same thing as my real body. But I wasn't going to abandon all my progress when I was half way home. Thinking it over, I had completed more than half the crypt. There was actually not much left.
After clearing the room, I started a new corridor, also on the left-hand side. There was a mixed patrol: a skeleton warrior, a skeleton archer and two brainless zombies. All four I kited back to the wine cellar, where I handled them the same way, except for the archer. He was being tricky and not coming close to the gap, just looking at me and shooting from the corridor. I had to take a risk: I put on my new gear and started to fight.
To my delight, he couldn't shoot as fast as I could hit. I didn't even die. The archer collapsed into a pile of bones.
You are now level 2!
5 free attribute points available!
I no longer even had the emotional capacity for a torrent of joy. Instead I just sat there frozen for a while, studying the attributes list. Given my current reality, I figured the best possible strategy was increasing perception. I weighed it all again and put all five points there, raising my accuracy to forty-five percent.
Then I went back into the corridor I lured the last patrol from. There were two locked doors. And I shouldn't have opened the first...
Foul Quease, level 7
The mob’s bulbous ten-foot-high body was seemingly sewn together from the corpses of several people: three legs, one sticking out of the stomach, four arms, eyes on shoulders and a hug
e lipless mouth packed with teeth. When the monster saw me it just ran, extending all its arms and the one leg out to greet me. And it charged with unexpected verve. I turned tail, hoping the monster would get stuck in the doorway but it must have ducked or something, because it got out.
I had to run with all my might, hearing it’s disgusting breathing and sniffling behind me. I soon realized these sounds were actually coming from the oozing wounds on its body. I reached the trusty old wine cellar, closed the door and barely managed to lock it shut. The quease started slamming the door and nearly broke it down while I, slightly panicking, put the barrels that got moved back in place.
Then, following the repeatedly proven plan, I unlocked the door and immediately took a flat blow to the forehead, losing a quarter of my life. That was thanks to the helm (and I hadn't yet figured out if all my armor was cumulative), otherwise the damage might have been fatal.
But at that point the quease's health bar fell below white and, a few minutes later, its joyless life was also at an end. My sword stuck into its rotting body like a knife through butter, not only knocking out health points, but bits of flesh as well. I got coated head to toe in viscera, and the nauseating smell of rot was just stuck dead on me.
It dropped no loot, and the just twenty experience points hardly compensated my horror and disgust.
I went back to the room it came from and, behind the second locked door, which I opened cautiously, ready for anything, I found an empty room with a small chest. It was not locked, and inside I found a few small vials of healing and mana potion. I put that all in my inventory along with two silver coins. In comparison with the old poor Scyth, I was a rich man now! I could finally afford to drink cream beer in the tavern! And of course I'd treat Eve, too...
“Just what you like to see,” as my uncle Nick said. It was already almost six AM. In an hour my parents would be up and calling me to eat breakfast. But I was still in the game. My stomach had gone on strike, demanding food. My guts were churning, my throat was like an emery board, and I still had the final boss ahead of me.
I could now see him at the far end of a huge room lined with some kind of temple vessels. The boss cut a fairly undaunting figure. He was short, plump and didn't look like much of a problem. Especially with my curse from Patrick the drunkard. I imagined it would be quite easy: land a blow or two, die, respawn and keep going until the boss was dead. Sure he was a custom creature, but what difference did that make.
Dargo the Cursed Lich, level 10
Crypt Boss
My gaze slipped over him. I was totally equipped. Ready. I gathered my courage and took a step out to meet him.
"Who dares disturb my slumber?" his hissing whisper filled the whole crypt.
What a tired phrase. But not counting that clever zombie, I hadn't spoken with anyone in so long that the answer burst out of me as I held my sword horizontal and walked toward the boss.
"My name is Alex Sheppard, aka Scyth, and I am here to kill you."
"You are a mere weak mortal," the lich's said, emotionless. "I have been summoned by the Destroying Plague. It is not for you to tussle with me..."
I made a blow, trying to hit his unprotected neck, but Dargo easily dodged and threw a magical pinkish black ball, which looked like a clump of dirt and worms. The ball slammed into my stomach with a swish and went inside. The cold of eternal rest entered my blood and ran over my whole body.
Dargo the Cursed Lich has damaged you: 49.
Health points: 4/53.
With a wail of pain while falling, I made a Sneak Attack with my blade into the lich's thigh and died after a tick of DoT.
You have critically damaged Dargo the Cursed Lich: 8!
Health points: 272/280.
Not wanting to waste more than an hour on this bastard and be late to school, I didn't wait and immediately respawned in the same place, naked and unarmed. My gear was just lying on the floor and I didn't have time to put it back on. I ran at the lich as he walked away to hit, but I didn’t get a hit off.
I got back up, ran... Died. Got back up...
On my eighth respawn I immediately drank a health potion, and I was able to cut Dargo the lich in his noseless face.
You have damaged Dargo the Cursed Lich: 2.
Health points: 278/280.
Lying dead at his feet, I looked at the battle logs in disbelief, then over to the boss's health bar. This bastard was regenerating much faster than I was doing damage!
This had to be the end.
Remaining time to respawn 9... 8... 7...
Chapter Ten. You Scratch my Back and I Scratch Yours
A FEW SECONDS to die, another few to respawn. No less than four deaths per minute. More than one hundred in the first half hour of battle with the Cursed Lich.
I had only seen grit like this in the movies. Our intrepid hero was defeated, his efforts fruitless, yet he continued stubbornly. Not did it look pointless, it looked stupid. But he just kept going, “making moves” as my Uncle Nick liked to say. Apathetic and totally drained of confidence, faith, spirit and energy, he pressed ever onward.
That was about what I felt like. Like a rat with an electrode in the pleasure center of his brain, I pressed the respawn button time and again and went balls to the wall hoping for a miracle. Sometimes I managed to hit him, but usually not.
He was also starting to get burned out, but probably more mentally. Seriously, he even stopped ominously whispering: "You pitiful weak mortal!" every time I came back.
After killing me fifty times, he changed tactics and started alternating between deadly balls of grave worms, covering half the room in bubbling smoking slime, and just resorting to physical damage by knocking me on the head with his staff, which was crowned with a heavy black stone. The logs told me the names of his spells, one more foreboding than the next: Scourge, Plague, Blight...
I managed to think that all over during my next few attempts, having made peace with failing the quest and being expelled from Tristad. I just... decided to try one more time. I had half an hour left.
Dargo the Cursed Lich has damaged you: 37.
Health points: 0/53.
You are dead.
Oh, Patrick, Patrick, you old boozehound! Couldn't you have given me a curse that would make me respawn with full health? That way I'd have a chance, but now... Wait!
After respawning, I mentally tensed up expecting a flicker of pain, but still I ran at the lich. A blow! Hammer! Another blow! None of them landed, the boss easily dodged, laughing. Not understanding what was happening, I stopped, breathing heavily. Dargo was looking at me with... pity?
"You pitiful weak mortal! I have been summoned by the indomitable, merciless Destroying Plague. And together we shall conquer all Disgardium. It is not for you to tussle with me..."
As he said these words, the lich beckoned me with a finger, then pointed at the earthen floor. After making sure I saw him, he wrote with the handle of his staff: "You don’t give up, do you?"
In amazement, I couldn't squeeze out a single word. I just nodded. He erased that and wrote more: "I see. Well, I'm sick of this." He was writing one thing, but saying another:
"You worm! Do you really not understand how pointless this is?"
"But I have no other way out, Dargo," I explained. "Failing the mission will destroy my reputation with the city, and Disgardium is my only chance to earn money for school."
"School?" the lich wrote and said bombastically:
"Feeble human, your self-assurance will be your ruin!"
"Yes. I want to go to university to be a space guide," I of course was confused but was now sure the boss was being controlled by a real person. "As long as I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of working in space."
"You'll be devoured from the inside!" he started conjuring a ball of grave worms, but threw the curse away from me.
"Cali Bottom, 270-36. Ask for Clayton. Bring donuts. UNB just makes me sick anymore!" the lich wrote with his staff, then looked closely and att
entively at me.
UNB, by the way, is universal nutrient blend. It contains everything a human needs, and is cheaper than drinking water. A synthetic cocktail, it comes artificially flavored with hundreds of variations but they all taste like paper.
"Cali Bottom, 270-36. Got it. That’s a two-hour flight from me..." I said, already thinking what I'd tell my parents. "I'll come right after school. I'll be there near evening."
Dargo nodded. Then he stashed his staff, spread his arms and looked up at the ceiling.
I looked under his legs and saw only two words: "Hit me."