Resurrection City: A Town Building Fantasy LitRPG, page 1
RESURRECTION CITY
CIPHERCRAFT: BOOK THREE
TIM KAIVER
RESURRECTION CITY
(Ciphercraft, Book Three)
By Tim Kaiver
Copyright © 2021 by Tim Kaiver
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Editor: Seth McDuffee (sethmcduffee@gmail.com)
Cover artist: B-Ro
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All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Worldwide Rights
Created in the United States of America
Thanks to my dad for getting me Command and Conquer back when computers were rare and we had no idea what we were doing. I always kind of wondered what good would come from training my mind like that. You, too, Mom. This is all at least partly your fault ;).
And thanks to all of you for your support during the hardest year of my life. In some ways, this book is for those who see fires on every side. Stay hopeful and keep fighting.
Contents
Previously on...
Prologue
1 - Cullen
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11 - Emmit
12 - Torek
13 - Emmit
14 - Torek
15 - Emmit
16 - Cullen
17
18
19 - Torek
20
21 - Ehli
22
23 - Torek
24 - Cullen
25
26- Emmit
27
28 - Cullen
29
30 - Ehli
31
32 - Cullen
33
34
35 - Emmit
36 - Cullen
37 - Emmit
38 - Cullen
39 - Cullen
40 - Emmit
Epilogue
Previously on...
In Windwalker, the race to Resurrection City and the first Rune ended with a betrayal and a surprising claim. Emmit betrayed his family and friends in following Cian the Seer’s agents out of Hilayniia before the invading army broke through. Even though Schaefer completed his quest to deliver the scroll to the Tomb of Truth, unlocking the glory light to eradicate the invading army, it did not stop Cian from using Emmit to unlock the first Rune.
Now Cian has added benefits to the territory surrounding Cullen’s city, including the ability to create four Dungeon Cores, and the lure of twice the XP for those who fight in the grind zones around the cores for him and any who ally with Cian. Cullen has a stronghold—the fabled city of Hilayniia—and he and his council will now face the task of building a nation with their bare hands.
His father is in the Physical Realm, where the Cipher’s awakening and subsequent earthquake are somehow tied to a loss of power and the mobs incited by the Berserker Telepath Willo, who stole the serum to make more of her kind.
Cullen wants to stop her and help his parents and the people of Vijil, but first he’ll have to create a foothold in the Spirit Realm.
Prologue
“Do you want to die?”
Perisene looked up from a flat wall of darkness and saw the dim flicker of red glowing on a stone ceiling. As she yearned for the person speaking to become known, the ceiling slowly closed. She looked down at her boots and the red leather outfit gifted by Cian the Seer. Memories returned of her climbing the wall to escape Resurrection City and the bright light that had burned through her soul and destroyed her flesh with the power of a bucket of lava.
Now she was floating. Her Ciphertext query returned only: HP 0/0.
“Yes, that’s it. Come talk with me.”
Perisene wasn’t sure she liked the feeling she got from the person speaking, but she didn’t know where she was and struggled to remember what had just happened. Was this what happened when you die?
Only to those spirits captured by this magic.
Was she captured?
She ascended the ridge to see a shallow alcove and a furnace casting its red glow on a strange man. The hunched-over, five-foot figure had wrinkled blue skin and unkempt, oily green hair curling down to his shoulders. He wore an aged and faded velvet robe with rips in the golden lacing. A flap at the end of his left sleeve hung loose as though torn from behind and partially concealed the hand clutching the staff he leaned on. His wrinkled fingers twisted around a skeletal frame of gold and bone, displaying a glowing blood-red stone. Three diamond-encrusted ruby rings decorated knotted fingers like memories of past glory—or respect owed to overcome the disheveled appearance he bestowed in his introduction. When he smiled, his sharp yellow teeth appeared behind black gums. Spots of black mottled the teeth he had left.
He extended his empty hand for her to join him.
Perisene thought she’d rather crawl into an alden snake den. The memory of his first question made her curious to hear what he might offer, and she floated forward. She wasn’t sure if the pounding in her chest was a nervous heartbeat or some other magical power that had captured her. He had asked if she wanted to die, so maybe she hadn’t yet... But, her last memory made that seem unlikely.
She could feel the stone floor beneath her feet—a reassuring sign that she could use them to stand.
“Do you want to live?” the man asked.
Perisene found her throat parched. The cave wall behind him and the deep fall on the other side of the ledge behind her posed no exit. She swallowed and coughed.
Yes.
“Good. I can do that for you.”
She hadn’t thought she’d said anything aloud, but as he hobbled closer, she found herself unable to do anything against him. Fighting seemed pointless. Even if she killed him, what then?
Her gaze locked on the ruby in his staff, shimmering each time he pressed it like a cane on the floor.
“First, we must reach an... agreement,” he said, thoughtfully. Plans seemed to weave within plans in the mind she studied through his eerie gray eyes.
Perisene didn’t like the unknown of what he was thinking, nor the small sneer he seemed to be passing as a smile. “Who are you?”
The old man smiled wider, showing those remaining yellow teeth again. If she paired that grin with the look in his eyes, the first word that came to her mind was… evil. Perisene wasn’t opposed to it—it just frightened her. She hated being frightened and the weakness it exposed.
“Uri. Oah Sorcerer.”
An Oah. Perisene searched her memory. She knew they were the sorcerers who had tried to destroy humanity living in the Spirit Realm over the course of three major wars in the last three-thousand years. The most recent had been over eight-hundred years ago, before humanity sealed them within stone prisons in the Omanic Mountains. The Oah controlled the golem—rock monsters that crushed cities with might and brute force.
Uri, she considered. Wasn’t that name recorded as deceased in the Rebertian Raid?
“And you’re Perisene,” he interrupted her thoughts. “Former Red Mage.”
Perisene didn’t like that. “Former?” Her stat card no longer identified her with any class, and despite feeling her feet and breath, she still showed zero HP and SP.
Oah seemed to regard her as though he thought she was being coy. “You died, sweetie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? Dead, or sweetie?”
“What do you want with me? If I’m dead, what good am I to make an agreement?”
“I have seen your spirit. Your energy is powerful. I could use you, and Cian is about to become Runelord. When he does, he’ll use one of his Dungeon Cores around Hilayniia.” Uri took two steps closer. Perisene smelled burning cinders and rotten meat. “When he does, I have the power to make you a Dungeon Core.”
“A Dungeon Core?” Perisene had heard of them but didn’t know what they were or how a human could become one.
“Yes. Your spirit will fuse with the spell the Cipher grants to become a Dungeon Core.”
Perisene took a breath. “What does that even mean? Would I be a... person?”
Uri cocked his head left and right as though bouncing from one thought to another. “You’ll still have your thoughts, if that is your concern. Your mind won’t change. You’d be stronger, though. Much stronger. You have a spirit bond to the red mage and abilities to transform plants into power. You could use your Dungeon Core power to spread poison spores to whoever inhales them. As they do, you get control over their bodies, human or creature.”
Perisene took that in, but it was like attempting to swallow a whole potato. “So, I can’t keep my body?”
Uri shrugged. “What is our body but a shell to keep us safe? Your shell failed, but I’ll give you a new and better one.”
“Why would you want to do that? Don’t the Oah hate humans?”
Uri smiled. “We do, and not all of us agree on how we should... interact with your kind. But, we used to be human too. I know what it’s like to
feel the weakness of human bodies. I know what it’s like to be betrayed.”
Perisene didn’t understand. Who had betrayed her? “What do you mean?”
“Cian. He has a painting of you disintegrating under the glorylight’s power. He sent you to your death because you brought him the ultra to unlock the Rune.”
Cian. How could he?
Uri smiled that same wicked smile. She hated the sense of possession in his look, but she was so lost. How could she do anything else but listen and hope he’d convince her to trust him? She hated trusting people and never did, but at this moment, she felt like she needed it.
“What happened to you?” she asked. “Didn’t you die in the Rebertian Raid?”
Uri smiled. “I am old, dearie. Not dead. Have you heard of Cusaugh?”
She had. He was the greatest Rucien prophet, according to some. She didn’t care about prophecies. But for those who did, he was as special as a newborn sun.
“Good. Well, he and I were best friends, if you will. Prophet brothers. Until one day, he heard an accusation that I had gone into a cave suspected to have a vein into the underworld.
“I denied it. He didn’t believe me. We were friends, and he sided with someone I accused of infidelity? This guy told Cusaugh I sold them the jar. I think Cusaugh got his prophecies mixed up. I would end up owning that jar, but I hadn’t yet. See, that jar came from the cave and had dark mana inside—something none of us had seen before because it came from the underworld. I caught them coming out of the cave and threatened to have them executed for their crime, for Shephka had no mercy on those who would enter the underworld to gain its power.
“In response, I tried to take the jar, but they overpowered me. I made enough of a mark on them that one of our knights questioned them and ended up confiscating the jar. To avoid punishment, they made up a story about me selling it to them, and when I showed up, they accused me.
“Cusaugh didn’t believe me. We’d been friends twenty-five years.” Uri shook his head. “I was so angry. His betrayal broke me. My human weakness took me to the cave in despair. I thought, if this is what it’s like to serve Shephka, to serve with and befriend those of the light, then I don’t care to live that way a breath longer.” His gaze focused back on her eyes. “You may think the same.”
Perisene couldn’t deny that one bit. Lost and unsure where to put her efforts. That didn’t mean being a Dungeon Core was her heart’s desire, but she felt closer to Uri’s pain. “Go on. What happened next?”
“I entered the cave. Another Oah welcomed me. Promised me eternal life and a home that would never deny me. I accepted. His promise has been true. I have lived over three thousand years.”
Perisene cocked her head against the math. “Why do our histories say you died in the last Oah War?”
Uri held up a twisted finger. The yellowish nail ended in a point sharp enough that Perisene would fear even a scratch. “Not dead. Removed. Just like you are. We could let you keep falling, or you can hold on and I can give you life.”
Perisene didn’t like the idea of falling. Even on her feet, she felt... baseless. “No... no, I don’t want to keep falling.”
“Good. What happened in the last war won’t happen again. And that’s where you come in.”
He paused, expectantly, a small smile growing on his face. His yellow eyes resembled a cat’s with specks of green that shimmered as though by magic. Was he waiting for her to speak?
“What?”
“Do you want to help us?”
Had she made it that far yet? Perisene didn’t want to keep falling, but she still felt like she knew too little about the deal and whom she’d be serving. She’d just been betrayed by Cian. Now she was going to join someone else she didn’t think she could trust? “I don’t know you,” she said finally. His shriveled, almost decaying form continued to repulse her, and he seemed to recognize that.
He frowned, draping a hand down his figure. The blue skin resembled a corpse drowned in frigid waters. Except he was alive, and whatever power had turned him blue was still at work—and not for his best interests. His swollen gut had a mass of warts and the same went for his bulbous nose and pointed, elongated ears. “Don’t you like how I look?” he asked, his voice scratching out through old flesh. Again, he shared the yellow-fanged smile. “Vanity is a human weakness.”
The way he spat the word made it clear how disgusting he found the idea of holding on to humanity. “You ought to consider yourself fortunate. Shephka’s glorylight burned that form but spared your spirit. You live, just in a different form. What I’m offering is much better: to become a dragon core. You can take any form you want, as long as your spores infect the brain of your host.”
Perisene couldn’t believe what she heard. “My spores?”
Uri shrugged. “Yeah, well, that’s how you spread.” His face lit in a sudden realization of joy. “That’s part of what’s great about being a Dungeon Core: you aren’t limited to one body or one place at a time like you were as a human. The Cipher’s power in you will allow you to spread with XP gained, and when unsuspecting—well, let’s just call them what they are: victims. When unsuspecting victims are infected by spores, through the air, in water, in the blood—however—you’ll see through their eyes, smell through their nose, feel their claws tear apart your enemy, or enjoy a lover’s embrace.” He ended his rant with a shiver of pleasure that shook through his arms and bubbled out over his lips in vocal ecstasy... which, at his age and condition, was more than a little creepy.
Perisene blushed as his look drove deep into her spirit, exposing that she’d never known that kind of touch.
He raised a brow with a curious and enticing gaze in his eyes. Not for her, but for her to enjoy herself. “Yes. You’ll have plenty to experience. And the XP of a dungeon....” He sucked in a breath and whistled. “Far more than you could as a single body. Every kill your minions achieve will feed you with XP—and the power to grow! I will add a blessing to your position and our offer. And this is part of where you agree.... where you help us,” he seemed to reconsider his choice of words. “As a Dungeon Core spreads through the ground, roots spread like vines and connect to your creatures. So that they have access to your power farther out than your dungeon chamber. What we’re offering,” he said, hand to his chest, “is those roots will tap into the underworld, where it connects Spirit Realm to Physical Realm.”
Perisene didn’t understand. That caused her spirit to step back. Maybe even her corporeal form, too.
Uri looked at her feet and back to her eyes. “The underworld is your only hope of a true home. Even as a Dungeon Core, you’re in the Spirit Realm, but you’re not guaranteed eternal life as a core. We will help you get strong quickly. As soon as that jerk of a Governor Cullen finds out a Dungeon Core is building up near his city, he’s going to take that stupid Windwalker stick and try and break it. We want you to gain enough strength to survive that, and really, you’ll need that to have hopes of surviving. But even if you don’t, the underworld is offering you a place of glory. Help us now. Send your roots into our chambers, and we will reward you with an eternal position among our elite.”
Perisene thought of her parents, how they’d let her run away and not even bothered to call her friend Jewel’s mom to see if she was there. Just gone and what...? Wiped their hands and done with it? Cian came to mind next in her list of betrayers. The first Runelord of this new era. He’d earned that by riding her coattails. She’d bet her second life on the fact that he knew she would die, but that hadn’t stopped him. She hated him even more than Cullen and his people.
“I want life and revenge,” she said, unable to feel the growl in her throat that would have matched the anger in her voice.
Uri smiled. “Good. You can have it. We’ll help you. Take this spell and live. Become a Dungeon Core and grow—lure minions with the song and nectar that we will channel through you. Live through more lives than you ever could in one body. We won’t bother you,” his tone and posture were those of a salesman, but she didn’t care. She wanted this.
“The underground will provide food for you until you reach the surface and are powerful enough to absorb sunlight,” he continued. “Once my troops are ready, we’ll join you and continue to feed you. You will grow, and we’ll be better off the more you do.”
