Hero of Midgard 3: A LitRPG Adventure, page 25
Björn, looking at Justus, sprang to action, grabbing the little boy and tossing him over his shoulders before Justus could dwell on his broken toy any longer. “Here, I’ll give you a rainbow,” Björn said as he took the boy outside and threw up a Bifrost shield to the roof.
Justus immediately lit up as he dropped down from Björn’s shoulder. “Can I slide on it?”
Björn looked at Livia, who was still braiding Constantia’s hair.
“Yes, but just be careful,” she said, shaking her head, while Constantia went back to asking Sporus more awkward questions. Justus screamed with delight as he scrambled up the Bifrost barrier and slid down, asking Björn to go up there with him.
As Karl returned to his dish, he couldn’t help but notice that the Trickster, sitting in Constantia’s lap, looked on at Justus playing with a sense of longing.
Finally, toward the end of the hour, thanks to Karl’s enhanced cooking speed, they had finished the salmon stew and the blood pudding. Because he was so advanced in his cooking now, even the blood pudding was way stronger than it had ever been before.
Item: Deepwater King’s Salmon Stew (Dei) — Grants Breathmastery, allowing the consumer to hold breath indefinitely for 24 hours or until oxygen is forcibly expelled. Salmon-fat infusion strengthens joints and sinews, granting +20% Swim Speed, +20% Reaction Speed underwater, and immunity to muscle cramping or fatigue. Warm broth anchors the mind, granting +25% Calm Under Pressure and preventing Panic effects while drowning, restrained, or enclosed.
Item: Blood Pudding (Dei) — Grants+35% Max HP, +25% Strength, +20% Constitution, +20% Pain Resistance, and +20% Knockback Resistance for 2 hours. Iron-rich blood infusion hardens resolve, granting +30% Bleed Resistance and converting 15% of all Bleed damage into Health regeneration instead.
Health (+20): lvl 11 (30/120)
Glory (+60): 3,610
Level: 43 (300/440)
It’d be a perfect snack for him and his friends.
As everyone gathered at the table for breakfast, he gave each of them three blood puddings to put into their inventory, along with himself. Though the Trickster immediately devoured his. Everyone took a similar aggressive approach to eating their stew, save for Justus, who poked at his slightly, seeing the fish bones. But the moment he tasted it, he too couldn’t resist the delicious stew, which was savory and lingered in the mouth.
The table was essentially quiet as everyone slurped down their stew.
They were in a hurry, after all, but it was also just that good. Björn made a mess of his as he raised his bowl to his face and, in typical Viking fashion, got most of it in his beard.
Justus, sitting next to him, laughed and did the same. But since he had no beard, it just got all over his face. Livia was going to scold him when Titus raised a gentle hand, allowing his son to be silly.
“I think these magical effects should work,” Sporus said as he finished his stew.
“Agreed,” Karl said.
Once they finished and rose to their feet, Titus went quickly back to his forge and retrieved the unicorn, which was now fully restored and glowing with rainbows once again.
“Thanks, Dad,” Justus said as he jumped onto Titus’s shoulder as they left the home in a rush to get to the Colosseum.
“I’m still not sure how I did it,” Mýra said as they walked along the mostly peaceful Aventine roads, though it wouldn’t be long before they were swarmed by the crowds gathering at the base of the hill, all heading toward the Colosseum.
“You said you were a Huldra before, right?” Livia asked. Mýra nodded as she held on to Björn’s arm. “Perhaps you did not lose your connection to nature, which has always been interwoven with magic. Maybe it has only just become something different.”
Mýra nodded thoughtfully as they continued walking.
Once they got down to the streets of Rome, it became almost impossible to hear anything as hordes of Romans and spectators from around the world lined the streets to cheer them on. Children perched on the walls and rooftops were shouting “werewolf” as they saw Karl and Kara. A few of them had werewolf action figures, which must have been made by merchants eager to capitalize on the novelty of the Vikings.
They even came upon such a merchant holding out metal robotic werewolf action figures that gave off a slight mechanical bark if you twisted the little screw on its spine.
What a mockery, Fenrir growled inside Karl’s mind.
Titus had to restrain his son from stopping to buy them, as they were in a rush to get to the Colosseum.
They soon arrived at the Colosseum Tower, which was shorter now that they were on the third floor, as the previous floors had descended into the ground somewhere. Before them, the remaining gladiators funneled down into the hypogeum, though there were considerably fewer now.
As they said goodbye to Titus and Livia and the kids, Constantia reached out and grabbed Sporus’s arm. “Wait,” she said, handing him what looked like a moon-shaped amulet, crested with gold and silver. “It’s for good luck,” she said, smiling awkwardly at Sporus as he took the little amulet.
“Constantia,” Livia scolded, “you don’t give that away until marriage.”
Sporus, who was already blushing, blushed a deeper scarlet; his white skin looked like an apple. He tried muttering something in response, but couldn’t find the words, which made the Trickster explode with laughter.
Sporus checked his mechanical watch and tried to pretend like everything was normal. “Come on, let’s just keep going,” he said, leading the way down the hypogeum.
This time, as they went down the stone ramps into the hypogeum, the air was cooler. Even with Karl’s Moltenveil armor, he could feel the dampness.
Was that water dripping from above?
The gladiators began to murmur around them, a few even panicking.
Down here, a group of men—whom Sporus called servitors—approached the gladiator groups, carrying trays of mechanical respirators. They looked like bronze mouthpieces with valves intertwined around a small base, no larger than a harmonica.
As Karl and the others put them to their mouths, each released a hiss of steam as the pressure gauge moved around.
Air Available: 01:00
“You’ll need to refill these at the safe air pockets once the game begins,” the servitors explained, their motions flat.
The Trickster was the only one who didn’t need it, since he was a robot and no longer needed to breathe air. “I’m so grateful I’m no longer a meat sack,” the Trickster said, the first time Karl had ever heard the squirrel not complain about the Dwarven machine curse laid upon him.
“Let’s try to stick together on this one,” Karl said as he wrapped his hand in Kara’s.
They kept their breathing gauges in place, just in case any of them got the air knocked out of them by monsters, which they were sure to face.
The hypogeum platform shook, raising them toward the surface.
26
FISH OUT OF WATER
Unlike the previous two floors, the gladiator elevator from the hypogeum did not stop at the base of the arena. Instead, it continued to rise well into the air by a long web of chains coming down from the arena’s roof, the metal clinking and grinding from the strain as it raised the several thousand gladiators far above the crowds.
If Karl didn’t have his ability to Elf Leap or the ability not feel afraid, he would have thrown up.
Kara and his friends similarly looked nervous at the extreme elevation, which thankfully stopped a few meters from the roof. All save for Sporus, who shot daggers with his eyes at the Emperor, who leapt from his box, leaving behind his two sons, and strode gracefully through the air on boots that sprouted wings. The crowds exploded with applause at the godlike sight of their ruler.
Oddly, Kara did not flinch as she looked at the man who would more than likely destroy her.
The Emperor stayed naturally high above them, summoning from thin air his golden pilum, which crackled with lightning energy.
All the gladiators slightly bowed their heads in reverence. He truly appeared like some immortal being that could smite them at any minute, which he could. As soon as the words began flowing from the Emperor’s lips behind his dark Roman helmet, all became quiet.
“In just a moment, you will fall. The sands will soon be consumed by water, and a castle shall appear, where components of keys will be hidden throughout the vast complex. Your goal is to find the three parts of a vault key to let you escape this floor.”
The Emperor pointed with his pilum toward the arena grounds below. From this angle, Karl could see that the walls looked very different from what they had previously. Pocketed in the hundreds along the wall were dark ovals interrupting the stone. Each was made of bronze, with blackened steel ribs bolted over marble backing and thick pressure-glass lenses embedded at key points.
In the middle of each was a circular lock recess about the size of a shield boss, where presumably they would have to insert the keys to open them.
“There are only five hundred vaults,” the Emperor continued. “One for each team. And before you ask, yes, there are not enough keys and vaults for every team.”
At this, the entire audience murmured in anticipation.
Man’s lust for violence is never satiated, Fenrir muttered with satisfaction.
The Emperor continued, silencing them.
“It is more than likely that over a hundred teams will not make it past this third level, as each vault will only allow the safety of five individuals.”
The gladiators began to murmur among themselves, each looking suspiciously at the others. The group closest to Karl—reminding him of Hawaiians with their layered bone plates, long braided hair, glowing teal tattoos on their arms and legs, and barbed tridents that gave off a pale blue light—muttered something in their tongue and glowered specifically at Karl.
Not knowing how to respond, Karl glanced at Kara, but she didn’t look worried. She looked determined, eager for the challenge, and undeterred by these tribal warriors.
Before the Emperor could continue his explanation, Sporus spoke up. “How do you not see the hypocrisy in this?” Sporus yelled, his usually quiet demeanor shattered in his hostile accusation toward his friend.
The Emperor cocked his head, the black slits of his helmet staring quietly at Sporus.
“Do you not remember when Elagabalus and Nero made you fight to the death in this very arena?” Sporus continued shouting. The archer shook his head in disbelief. “I thought you were better than them.”
The air was silent as the Emperor remained elevated by his winged boots, not saying a word. Fenrir stirred with excitement inside Karl as the Emperor strode forward through the air, drawing closer to them, though he did not descend to the platform itself. Lightning flickered at an increased pace around his pilum, causing the hair on the back of Karl’s neck to stand. Kara, Björn, and Mýra all bent their knees slightly in anticipation of defending against a lightning strike.
The only solace Karl had was that he was immune to fifty percent of lightning damage, but still, repeated attacks by the Emperor with his godlike abilities would more than likely be enough to kill him many times over.
But instead of incinerating them all, the Emperor spoke, his words barely above a whisper. “If only you could see what I see.”
Without another word, he turned around, his ethereal, dreamlike cape fluttering behind him as he flew back to his box, where his sons awaited.
“Really thought he was going to go psycho on us,” the Trickster said, passing gas on Karl’s shoulder.
“Is there ever a time when you don’t have to fart?” Karl asked, holding his nose.
“Probably underwater,” the Trickster added thoughtfully. “It might be hard, then.”
“You at least tried,” Kara said, ignoring the Trickster and placing one hand on Sporus’s shoulder for encouragement.
“Thanks,” Sporus muttered, though he didn’t look pleased about the conversation.
The moment the Emperor retreated into his box, the arena rumbled again. All the gladiators scrambled to see over the edge of the platform.
From where the hypogeum once was, a large Roman fortress ascended, arriving in thousands of pieces that sprang up on conveyor belts and rose like some industrial miracle assembling with precision. The design was circular, tiered, and colonnaded, its towers curving inward, and bronze statues lined the walls made of white marble panels. At the center of the massive Roman complex was a domed roof with a hole at its center, reminding Karl of the famous Pantheon.
The masses gawked at the incredible architecture sprawling before them. But Karl and his friends had zero time to appreciate it as, along the audience rows, a wall of thick glass reinforced with steel arose to seal the crowd off from the arena.
The strangeness of the design became clear a second later.
Hundreds of slits above the vaults sprang open. Water gushed across the arena all at once. As the water poured in, several trapdoors opened at the bottom of the arena. Dark, shadowy figures slithered out, some with glowing red eyes.
“Did he say when the platform was going to drop us?” the Trickster asked as the water soon eclipsed the tops of the dome, now only a couple of meters below them.
A metal creaking sound slammed through the middle of the platform they were standing on. All at once, the platform split in two, dumping them into the water-filled arena.
Immediately, Karl activated his Abyss Pearl. Even though it granted him water breathing, which he didn’t necessarily need, it gave him a swim speed twice the normal rate for the next fifteen minutes.
The first thing they came into contact with as they crashed into the water was a swarm of glowing robot mermaids. There were probably a hundred or more, darting toward the nearly three thousand gladiators. Their upper torsos were human, with marble breasts and glassy eyes that glowed a soft gold. Their hair looked real enough, but their tails were made of segmented steel.
As one, they emitted pulsing screams from their mouths, crying out collectively at the gladiators. Karl and hundreds of others were magnetically pulled forward by their siren song, like a black hole dragging them toward sharp metal teeth.
As attractive as the sirens were, he did not want to end up in their grasp. The only person he would ever allow to bite him was Kara.
The Trickster fired a plasma ball, which swirled colorfully through the water and landed in the throat of one of the sirens, exploding inside her. While most of the sirens kept their focus on the gladiators dispersing throughout the arena in various directions to escape the beautiful predators, a good dozen of them trained their sights on Karl and his friends to avenge their fallen mermaid.
“Thanks a lot,” Karl said in the water, though he doubted many could hear his words, given the environment and the thrashing, violent storm around them.
Sporus was now invisible beside him but identifiable to Karl by his floral scent underwater, which Karl could smell with his werewolf senses. Each of them drew the Venomcore Fanghead Arrows and began unleashing a rapid spray of them through the water, further aided by Karl’s use of Dual Shot. Plus, the Tentacle bow made his arrows soar 40% faster underwater, which was a huge advantage here, making it impossible for any monster to escape his aim.
Despite Karl taking down three of the sirens thanks to the proximity and the effective use of poison draining their Health, there were still far too many of them. Worse, darker shapes were emerging from the trapdoors below, meaning that if they stayed out here, they would face endless waves of monsters.
They also wouldn’t get the keys necessary for the vault and would be stuck there to be devoured for the audience’s entertainment.
At least he got some cool ingots and ka-ching sound effects from the three terrible beauties.
Strength (+30): lvl 13 (50/140)
Glory (+90): 3,700
Level: 43 (390/440)
Wealth (+3): 11,201 Gold
Item: Siren Resonant Ingot x5 (Epic) — A pearlescent silver-blue ingot banded with concentric ripple-lines. Faint harmonic tones hum from within when moved, and the surface subtly vibrates against the fingertips, tugging as if magnetized. Crafted weapons have a 20% chance to pull enemies 5 feet toward the wielder and inflict −25% Accuracy for 3 seconds. Armor grants +35% Resistance to Charm, Fear, and Mind-Control effects, and reduces forced movement effects by 20%.
“Bifrost!” Karl shouted through the water.
Thankfully, Björn understood and threw up a rainbow shield before them. Kara blasted a few of the mermaids who tried to go above the barrier.
His friends instinctively knew to grab onto him as he shot an arrow into the upper dome of the Roman tower, where they Elf Leaped a second later. Once again, he was immediately grateful that he could use this ability ad infinitum with no cooldown.
A spew of weirdly humanoid, turtle-backed monsters erupted from the hole, knocking Karl backward briefly. Each of these turtle creatures had riveted iron carapaces and wide mouths full of spiky teeth.
One of them grabbed onto Björn, but the Viking smashed his face into its green, gooey head, which must have killed it as it went limp. But the forty or so turtle figures that soon surrounded the water above them shot out grappling claws similar to the Trickster’s.
Karl immediately fired another arrow, Elf Leaping them toward the bottom of the dome inside.
I think we’re the first ones in here, Karl thought to Kara as a few of the turtles descended to attack them, only for their grappling arms to be deflected by Kara’s Baldr Light Shield.
We should make this quick, she thought back to him as Karl and Sporus fired off more Venomcore Fanghead Arrows. They worked extremely well on the turtle creatures because they ignored thirty-five percent of their natural armor, allowing Karl to take down five and Sporus three.
