Darling of Fate 3: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure, page 12
His black eyes bore into me, and I felt like I was staring into an abyss filled with blood and pain. But I couldn’t look away. I knew—just knew—that if I glanced away even for a moment, I’d see things around the periphery that I’d never scrape from my mind.
Off to my left, a blood-curdling scream sounded, and it took all of my self-control not to flinch and glance over. And all the while, I was gazing into those empty, evil eyes, wondering why the fuck I had picked the Armor Boon.
After a tense few moments, Leph snorted, then looked away. I relaxed, feeling like the executioner’s axe lingering over my neck had just been retracted. All the same, I didn’t dare take in my surroundings—I just wanted to get the fuck out of here.
“You’re brave, little ant. I’ve broken real Cultivators with nothing but my gaze.”
He stood upright and I got a glimpse of his body before locking my eyes back on his face. He was so vastly different from Aestus, I had to wonder if the term brother meant something other than biological kin.
He was bare-chested, his red skin still pulled overly tight across his muscles and bones. Weeping gashes and nasty welts oozing pus crisscrossed his skin. The smell of blood and sickly death intensified as I scanned the wounds, like my gaze magnified the effect somehow. A distant part of my mind wondered if there was an Affinity at play here, intensifying my visceral reaction to his ghastly appearance.
“It is done,” he growled. “Do not seek me out again unless you reach the Immortal Stage.” He leaned in close again, his weeping eyes boring into mine. “Otherwise, you will not survive the pain my next Boon inflicts upon you.”
I was yanked backward in space, my body rushing away from Leph’s terrible domain. The motion was disorienting and when I snapped back into my real body in the Hold, I immediately crashed to my knees and puked all over the cobblestone.
“Holy…fuck…” I gasped.
In the back of my mind, Red wasn’t much better off. She felt small, compacted into a little ball, and I tentatively reached out to her—both mentally and physically—to give her comfort. As soon as my fingers hit cloth, she wrapped around me in a rush, squeezing me tight in a bear hug.
“Shh, it’s okay. We’re safe,” I said softly. It probably looked bizarre, me stroking my cape as it enveloped me.
Then, something changed, and Red began to shift unnaturally. The cloth seemed to liquefy, spreading across my torso like putty.
“What the…?”
I stood up, trying to examine exactly what Red was doing. The emotions from the Mantle had settled down some—there was still that existential fear from our run in with Leph lingering in her thoughts. But mostly, I felt a new sense of excitement and power emanating from her.
“What did he do to you, girl?”
In response, I felt her move with intention, coating my entire body in her material. The sensation was odd, like I was slipping into cool water. I felt it as she moved, but once I was covered in the living cloth, it was like there was nothing there at all.
She continued to flow across my body, covering me from head-to-toe, slipping up my neck and approaching my jaw. I’ll admit, I started to panic when she approached my mouth and face, but she sent me a chiding thought and I forced myself to relax.
This was Red, I reminded myself. She’d never do anything to hurt me.
So I relaxed as she enveloped me, though my curiosity was burning inside of my chest.
“Mate, what the feck?” Amos called from behind me.
I turned to see him and Jerome staring at me—him with wide eyes, Jerome with his usual scowl.
“What does it look like?” I asked.
Before they could respond, Red covered my face and eyes, blinding me. I was about to force her away from my face, when my vision suddenly cleared. It wasn’t that she had moved—I could still feel the liquid cloth on my skin—but rather, the cloth had somehow gone transparent to my eyes.
“It’s like yer wrapped in a giant, red condom, mate.”
I felt Red respond, her indignation spiking in the back of my mind. She rippled across my right arm, exposing the skin as she moved into my hand and shot out with a sudden movement. A spike extended from my hand, rigid and red, racing toward Amos’ face. My eyes went wide in shock and before I could pull the cloth back, she was poised right at his neck.
We both gaped at the four-foot-long, blood-red spike mere inches from Amos. It was wide at the base, narrowing to a needle-point at the tip. He reached up and gingerly touched the cloth. Unlike Red’s usual material, his fingers seemed to press against hard and unyielding material.
Before we could say anything, the spike began to morph again, refining along its length into a narrower shape. Some of the excess material traveled down the spike, moving back up my arm to coat it in red once more.
Over the next few seconds, what had been a circular spike began to shift into the form of a blade. Slowly, the shape of the blade became familiar until I was holding a near-replica of my katana in my right hand. The only difference was that it was made of Red’s material, making it appear like a sword coated entirely in blood.
I stared at the katana in my hand, unable to process the changes Red was experiencing. Reaching out with my left hand, I ran my finger along the edge and felt it cut my skin from only the slightest pressure.
“Fuck, that’s sharp,” I said, pulling my hand away.
“I retract me earlier statement,” Amos said. “That’s feckin’ grouse, mate.”
At his side, Jerome grunted. “Not bad.”
I paused examining the blade and stared at Jerome. “Dude, how about a fucking warning next time? That psycho threatened to torture me for thousands of years.”
His eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms. “Had no problem with him. Ugly, sure, but that be it.”
I shook my head and swung Red around, giving the katana a few experimental slashes and stabs.
“Fuck you, Leph,” I muttered.
As I swung the katana, I noted the balance was off, but Red felt it too and adjusted the weight. After a few more slashes, I was satisfied. Looking down at the red armor coating my body, I rapped my knuckles against it. It felt hard, like metal, but also had a bit of flex to it. I couldn’t wait to experiment with Red’s new capabilities!
“That’ll do, Red,” I said with an appreciative tap on my chest. “That’ll do.”
“Whoa, what the fuck, dude?”
I turned to see Lacy coming through the portal, Mama G and Lex right behind her. Flashing her a grin, I shrugged. Then I realized Red was covering my face and I willed the cloth to pull away so they could see me.
“Red just got a massive level up. Check this out,” I said, going through some motions with the katana. “The material is hard, too. I don’t know what it can tank, but I’m eager to do some tests.”
“That’s pretty cool…” Lacy said. Both Red and I felt our indignation rise.
“Pretty cool? It’s fuckin’ sick, Lacy, come on!”
She nodded. “Yeah, it’s sick, but I mean…you look a little ridiculous.” She looked around at the others. “What is it he looks like? It’s on the tip of my tongue…”
“A giant, red gimp?” Amos supplied.
I whirled on him, ready to tell him off, but then got distracted with restraining Red—she wanted to give him a little prick, but I held her back.
Behind me, Lacy and Lex laughed, while Frank examined me with his Legendary glasses that he had received at the beginning of the Integration.
“Incredible material,” he muttered, leaning in closer. “It appears to have a fluid consistency but has incredible tensile and compression strength on demand. I wonder if—”
Lex interrupted him. “HONK! I figured it out, Lacy!”
We all turned toward him—me with a look that said, ‘You better be really fucking careful with what you say next,’ while the others were a mix of curious and amused.
“I know what it is he looks like!” Lex waddled in closer, looking up at me with a glint in his eye. “He looks like the red Power Ranger!”
He flapped away in a rush as both Red and I chased him with murderous intent.
Chapter 14
Craig and What Army?
Ilet Lex off the hook, noting Byron’s unconscious body and the ticking clock of Craig’s arrival. Mama G saw him too and rushed over.
“Boy? You okay?” She whirled on me, accusation in her eyes. As she stomped toward me—all five-foot-three of her—I had to stop myself from taking a step back.
Give me a pissed off Yuri any day of the week.
“What did you do!”
Lacy intercepted her charge, placating her with hands up. “He’ll be fine, Mama. Going through the same thing I did when I picked that Boon. Hour or two and he’ll be more powerful than ever.”
The corner of her lip lifted in a snarl, her eyes boring into me over Lacy’s shoulder. I let Red slide up to hide my face as I rolled my eyes.
Lacy physically turned her away from me, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
“C’mon, Mama, let’s get you your Boon.”
While Lacy led her away, I pulled up my Inventory to finally examine the changes Leph made to Red.
[Red, aka the Crimson Cape of Mass Slaughter] [Progenitor’s Mantle] [Unique] [Heirloom Item]
Dirk’s better half, personal designation: Red. This sentient piece of clothing fancies itself the brains, brawn, and beauty of this dynamic duo. Enjoys full moons and a thin coating of her enemy’s blood stroked evenly across her surface. For more info, see the attached bio. But first, a poem composed by our very own Red, the Crimson Cape of Mass Slaughter:
Roses are red,
Violets are blue,
Blood is nature’s lubricant,
And I’m about to fuck you—
I took a moment to minimize the item description to give Red a serious look.
“Are you fucking kidding?” I muttered. A lewd image of Red and a very-dead Kneer came back in response, and I immediately scrubbed it from every recess of my mind. “Add necrophilia to the list for my deranged cape,” I added with a shake of my head.
I skipped past a very long bio of things that I didn’t even want to know—I had to sleep next to this psycho, after all. Past the section about preferred forms of executing enemies and a second poem—in haiku form—that seemed to be romanticizing the smell of a specific type of smoke only made from the burning of corpses, was the meat of the changes Leph had made.
Rank: 1
Experience: 72,398/100,000
Traits:
Only a Matter of Time I
You Think Your Shit Don’t Stink I (Same Race)
Your Shit Really Don’t Stink I
Your Shit Really Don’t Stink II
Your Shit Really Don’t Stink III
Keen Eye II
Sound of Mind II
(New) Two Psychos, One Ability
Abilities:
[Analysis II]
(New) [Morph II (Item)]
Status: Equipped (Soulbound)
Bearer: Dirk Damascus, Prime of Earth (Race rank: #1 — Co-Integrated Rank: #76 —> #1)
I pulled up the new trait and ability.
Two Psychos, One Ability: You’ve created a connection with another sentient being strong enough to facilitate a shared ability. Let’s hope you remain on the same page for eternity. Who knows what would happen if your interests ever diverged. +20 Intelligence.
Morph II (Item)
This ability allows the user to adjust the shape of the associated item via mental feedback. Rigidity and strength can be modified to solidify the shape of the item. Higher ranks of this ability increase speed of change and maximum rigidity.
System Note: This ability has been modified by a Higher Power. The associated item has the awareness and capability to activate this ability without the bearer’s intervention.
Despite the frankly deranged item description, I was really pleased with the upgrade to Red. The cape had a lot of surface material to work with and I was already envisioning different forms she could take to up my offensive and defensive capabilities.
But now wasn’t the time to test out the changes, so I turned my attention back to the others.
Jerome had selected the Weapon Boon and was holding a floating, metallic device that looked a bit like a floating drone—but without any visible rotors. It didn’t look very impressive, but I knew looks could be deceiving when it came to Heirloom items.
I mean, Mileen was running around with a pair of Goddamn chopsticks, stabbing dudes in the neck like a ninja caught mid-meal.
“Get anything good?” I called over to Jerome.
In typical Jerome fashion, he grunted in reply. Before I could ask for a bit more elaboration, he threw the flying sphere at Amos. The Aussie cringed and held his hands up over his face, but the object stopped a foot in front of him and entered a sort of orbital pattern, lazily circling around his head.
When nothing collided with his face, he peered between his hands and watched the sphere circling around him.
“Huh?” He reached up to poke at it, but it didn’t react.
“Throw somethin’ at him,” Jerome said to me.
I raised an eyebrow in surprise. But I also couldn’t resist the opportunity to chuck something at Amos.
“Mate, what you—”
His eyes went wide, but before he could react, one of my baseballs was flying toward his face. It wasn’t the hardest pitch I’d ever thrown, but it wasn’t the softest either.
A metallic clang echoed as the flying sphere zipped to intercept the baseball.
“Ohhh,” I said in pleasant surprise. “That’s fucking neat!”
“Oi! Ye feckin’ cunt! Don’t be throwin—”
He cut off as I launched four more baseballs in quick succession. There was a change-up, two fastballs, and a Friction-enhanced curveball in the mix. All were met head-on by the sphere, with four resounding clanks quickly following. Jerome beckoned with his hand, and the sphere flew back over and began circling him.
I looked at Jerome and nodded appreciatively. “That’s cool as hell. Can it do that with bullets, too?”
Before he could answer, Amos threw his hands in the air, a big, shit-eating grin on his face. “That was feckin’ awesome! I’m invincible—wait, put that thing back on me—”
The sphere began making a high-pitched whirring sound, a small pinprick of light emitting from its center point.
“Mate, your ball-thingy don’t look right—”
A pulse of light ripped from the sphere, lasering in on Amos’ chest.
“Oof!”
He was knocked back on his butt, a small burn mark in the middle of his shirt.
I looked at Jerome who had a slight smirk on his face. “The fuck?”
“Absorbs attacks,” he replied. “Can shoot part of the energy out. Minute cooldown for now.”
Amos was rubbing at his chest, a grimace on his face. “Oi, feck ye shoot it at me for?” He jerked his hand up and down and aimed it at me. “Send it to the wanker next time.”
I chuckled and was about to quip something back, when I noticed Frank staring off in the direction of the red thread he had been following earlier.
“You good, Frank?”
He glanced at me, then went back to examining the thread.
“Approaching fast,” he said quietly. “Probably a minute or two.”
“Shit. Okay, enough grab ass. Let’s grab our Boons and get ready. We can wipe this fucker off the board right here and now. Take a whole load off our shoulders.”
Amos continued complaining—quietly—as he stood up. Jerome’s sphere was circling him as he moved to face the direction Frank indicated. Byron was still unconscious, so I picked him up and slid him through the still-active portal. Lex was over with Lacy and Mama G, and a quick glance told me that something was wrong.
Mama G’s expression was a dark cloud, while Lacy was speaking with animated body language. I wasn’t exactly the best option to mediate the two, but I went over anyway. Time was short and they needed a prodding.
“Hey guys, we need to put on our game faces. That fucker, Craig, is only minutes—”
I cut off as Lacy’s words reached me.
“—This sanctimonious bullshit!” she whispered aggressively. “We’re fighting for our—”
“Enough!” Mama G shouted. “I ain’t worshiping no pagan god for no Boon. Was doin’ just fine back in my kitchen ‘fore you dragged me out here!”
“Then go back to your kitchen!” Lacy shouted, her voice rising. “Why the fuck should you care if humanity is on the verge of extinction? Maybe your God will get off his ass and intervene, hm? Then all of your self-righteous non-action would be vindicated.”
Lex opened his beak to interject, and I already knew he was forming a rebuttal concerning the existence of God—which was the last fucking thing this conversation needed.
My presence wasn’t much better, but it was a hair above openly shitting on Mama G’s beliefs.
“Guys,” I said, holding my hands up in a placating gesture as I joined them. “This isn’t the time for this conversation. We’ve got at least one bad guy on a crash course for our position. And knowing him, he’s probably got some friends with him.”
Lacy’s anger drained away. “Craig?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, a sharp contrast to her recent yelling. She was scared and I didn’t blame her.
Mama G narrowed her eyes. “That nice young man from yesterday?” I opened my mouth to reply, but she waved away my attempt. “I know what you said, boy. He’s a bad guy.” She crossed her arms defiantly. “S’pose to believe you, am I? He seemed charming—”
I saw it coming, almost as if in slow motion. But my brain was too shocked to react.
Lacy’s left hook came in like a heavyweight boxer, smashing into Mama G’s nose with an audible crack. The older lady went down hard, her eyes rolling into the back of her head.
By the time my brain caught up to what happened, Lacy was standing over Mama, her eyes wide as she bent over to check on the woman.
“Lacy, what the fuck?” I rushed over to check Mama G’s pulse. After confirming she was alive, I looked up to see Lacy backing away in shock, like she hadn’t realized what she had done. “We’ve all wanted to hit Mama one time or another. But you coulda pulled your punch just a bit—she’s gotta be sixty.”
