Paladin Hunter: A LitRPG Adventure (Duty Beyond The Dungeon Book 1), page 1
Paladin Hunter
Progression Fantasy
Wolfe Locke
Fantasy Unlimited
Copyright © [2023] by [Wolfe Locke]
All rights reserved.
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.
Contents
Dedication
1. Situation Contained
2. The Way To Elm
3. Checkpoint
4. Josiah Mather
5. Rift Considerations
6. Level's and Numbers
7. Rising Power
8. The Cup That Overflows
9. Unseen Things
10. Inner Chambers
11. Wretched Hive
12. True Master
13. Vampire Lord
14. Ring The Bell
15. Lich
16. Without Hesitation
17. The Other Side
18. Owed Answers
19. Settled Dust
20. The Trail of Josiah Mather
21. Oathbound
22. Old Friends
23. Jupiter
24. No Songs
25. Torn Sense
26. Authority
27. Den
28. The Threat Is Real
29. Pumpkin King
30. Embrace This
31. Dark Heart
Thanks! Please Rate & Review
Index
Other Series - This Academy Extra
Other Series - Sword To Ploughshare
Other Series - Pandemonium Dungeon Apocalypse
Important Links
The LitRPG Group
For Jake & Those Cold Days At Ft. Huachuca.
Thanks For The Laughs.
They Were Needed.
Situation Contained
The city of Athens never slept. It was one of the few places left in the world that people could still carry on with any kind of normalcy in the years that followed the appearance of rifts, dungeons, monsters, and the awakened.
It was a walled city.
Behind those massive walls that protected the citizens from the barren wastes of the blighted lands, there were five districts directly serving all the different needs of the city, while some other districts had been lost to monster invasions like the Juniper District and some districts didn’t serve people at all, but rather industry and production like the Ironbark District.
The Holly District was a residential area where awakened warriors and civilians alike could find housing. The Sequoia District provided a square for commerce and trade. The Birch District was reserved for the hospitals, healers, and clinics, while the Pine District held theaters, music halls, and entertainment.
All protected by the most powerful of Mana Stones.
And then there was the Elm District.
The slums.
Where the refugees, wayward and vagabonds, ultimately wound up when they had nowhere else to turn or needed a place to push off from.
Elm District had a lesser quality Mana Stone and was one of the few places where dungeon rifts were able to still spawn within the city limit. Those rifts that did spawn were all low-level gates, E and D ranked in difficulty. It gave up and coming Hunters a chance to prove themselves and grind out loot.
It was a place of flickering lights, broken windows, and barren buildings, all a consequence of the steady and constant fighting.
It was a place where, when no gates appeared, back-alley brawls and dealings were common.
A place of first and last resort. Where people came to bet on the outcomes of both dungeon raids and personal fights.
It was, in short, the underbelly of one of the biggest remaining cities, a place where you traveled only if you were a very particular sort of person or had a very good reason for being there. Mainly it was a place for those who had nowhere else to go.
On the eve of the anniversary of Dungeon Emergency Day; it was a day like any other in the Elm District… at least at first.
Vendors pushed carts back and forth, selling low-level mana stones, food, and knockoff gear. Sparring matches were negotiated and fist fights broke out due to uncovered bets. People brawled in those back alleys as the sun set.
The sound of sword against sword and metal clanking echoed from building to building. In the distance, someone screamed as a match turned ugly. The sharp crack of the shot from a pistol signaled the end of the battle, followed by the heavy thump of boots on the pavement as the victor walked away with his winnings and more.
There was no need to run from the law. Not there. Police rarely visited, and when they did, it was a patrol in name only. They went through their routes just as quickly as they could. Other parts of the city had priority. Everyone knew what they were getting into when they entered Elm district.
At least… On most nights.
But on that night, Elm District's usual noise seemed louder tonight. A trio of hunters, their armor dented and scratched, exchanged wary glances as they navigated the crowded streets. "Something feels off tonight," the tallest muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. His companion, a woman with scars crisscrossing her arms, nodded. "Yeah. The air's too tense. Just be on your guard, alright?”
*****************************
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAT!
A massive pulse of energy shot down from the sky, an inverse beacon, as if something had just fallen from the stars. Upon impact with the ground, a great well of mana seemed to form. Black lightning crackled about, and slowly, an immense portal started to rise from the depths of the earth. It took form slowly, a great mirror shifting about with a glossy surface reflecting with dark energy.
This was no E-ranked gate.
Few living within the area had ever truly seen a higher-ranked gate. However, the descriptions matched well enough for some of the locals to understand an irregular gate could have spawned.
But they had no way of telling if it was C-Ranked, B-Ranked, or higher. All they knew was that it was dangerous, and something beyond them.
[Rift Activation. Elm District, Proving Grounds]
[RiftSpawn Alert! This is not a drill. Civilians should evacuate immediately to the nearest checkpoint. Rapid Response Protocol has been initiated. Registered Hunters should proceed to the Rift immediately. Objectives: Secure the perimeter in case of dungeon breaches. Await further instructions. Nearest Association Members dispatched to take control. Emergency Services are in route! Citizens, do not enter. Repeat, DO NOT ENTER.]
Sirens wailed.
The call to action had been heard.
As the sirens began to wail, panic spread through the district. A mother, clutching her child's hand tightly, hurried towards the evacuation point. "Hurry Lena, we need to get to safety."
Lena, wide-eyed and frightened, looked up at her mother, "Is it the monsters, Mom?"
The mother, her voice steady despite her fear, replied, "Don't worry, the hunters will protect us. We just need to be brave."
Elsewhere, a young woman named Clara Zetsuei ran through the district, she had to. It was her job. She was the nearest Association Member. She’d been relaxing at one of the few good bars in Elm, but quickly changed, readying herself once she heard the alert.
Her battle armor was tight against her body, a sleek, modern, red and black design. Her hair was pulled back tightly behind her head, while her twin swords hung at her side. She had a formal insignia on her shoulder noting her as a B-Ranked Hunter belonging directly to the Hunter’s Association.
“Hunters, form up!” She shouted loudly as she ran down the street toward the forming rift.
She glanced around, noticed a parked car, and quickly scrambled up it.
Clara stood tall atop the car, her gaze sweeping over the assembled hunters and police. Taking a deep breath, she allowed herself a moment of openness, a flicker of doubt, before steeling herself. "This city relies on us," she whispered to herself.
“Hunters, on me! Experienced Hunters in the front, inexperienced in the back! Long-range Hunters, take up positions on the rooftops! Tanks, I want you on the flanks and a few up front! Healers, get behind the tanks! My damage dealers, I need you to form up the middle! Emergency Services will come in from the back, protect them too.”
Clara’s voice carried far.
All around, Hunters did exactly as they were told. Some of them screeched into the square on motorcycles or in cars, while others arrived in larger Guild transports.
A few even began rappelling down from helicopters that were quickly arriving.
All heeded her orders. As the highest-ranking official representative of the Hunter’s Association, she held authority over the Rift, at least until order could be established, or someone in the association who out-ranked her showed up to assume control.
The Hunter’s Association had its perks as the governing body of the awakened whom decided to register with them.
The Rift continued to crackle as it finished forming. It looked like a great black dome spreading out over the middle of the road, almost like a glossy reflective snow globe where the inside was larger than the outside.
Through the rift, she could see darkened spires, like a warped caricature of a holy cathedral. They were broken and snapped, twisted and warped in places, like it had been intentionally made to be corrupted, or give off the appearance of corruption.
It would be impossible to know for sure until she went in.
But it was… In a word, it was ominous to look at.
Sirens squealed as police cars began to arrive on scene. Officers, all wielding techno-mage weapons, began to form a secondary line of defense. One of them quickly ran over to Clara and looked up at her.
“You’re in charge here right, Ma’am! What can we do to help?”
“Get the civilians out of here.” She ordered. “Use the auxiliary mana batteries to raise the shields around this portion of the city. Keep evacuation routes open and let me know the moment that the Scouting Team gets here.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
As the officer ran off, Clara squared her shoulders. Before she could say anything, though, a rookie hunter who looked like he was having a hard time of things walked up to the car and looked up at her.
“Ma’am… Are you sure we can handle that? They’re saying it’s an irregular gate? Or even an S-ranked gate?”
Clara gave him a once over. The kid was in a state of near panic. His eyes were wide, and his kit looked like cheap, knockoff gear that was common enough in the area. He’d likely paid about 100 credits for it, if that. A simple mob like a goblin could probably have taken him out for all the protection it gave him.
“That’s why we’re here.” Clara assured him. “No one enters that dungeon until the association assesses its rank and approves entry, we don’t push people into dungeons they can’t handle. Our objective right now is to maintain a perimeter in case of a dungeon break and protect the area until we can get a scouting and clear team in place to give us all the green light. Unless….”
The rookie nodded and moved back into the group. Clara raised her voice, shouting as long as she could. “Are there any A or S ranked hunters here?”
A quiet murmur swept through the crowd, and Clara’s hands balled into fists. A Rift of this size opening in the Elm District was extremely uncommon and had taken everyone by surprise.
It wasn’t abnormal for there to not be A or S ranked hunters available. They kept busy.
“Alright, then. Stick with the plan. It’s up to the rest of us, regardless of rank. Hold your ground, and all of us will keep the situation contained until reinforcements arrive!”
The Way To Elm
Not far from the Elm District, Josiah Mather sat in a small café in the Redwood District. Nestled between the Athens University and the Olympia Library, it was named “City Steam,” and often had a steady stream of students and other intellectuals drifting in and out.
It provided a steady, yet uncrowded, flow of people coming and going for a cup. At that exact moment, even the limited traffic that was there went largely unnoticed by Josiah—who was holding a tattered leather book in his worn, calloused hands.
Josiah, lost in his thoughts, murmured softly to himself, "In times like these, should I reference from Lincoln? Or Solomon?" He adjusted his glasses, peering intently at the book's worn pages as he pondered the lines he was working on for the speech that had brought him to the city.
He was an unimposing sort of figure, at least at first glance.
His hair was steel-grey mixed with orange, and his piercing eyes were shielded by thick-rimmed glasses. He wore a simple white overcoat, underneath of which was some modern-style combat armor. A red crucifix hung from a chain around his neck.
As he took a sip from his mana-infused tea, he seemed entirely unconcerned about the enfolding chaos around him.
“I’m seeing it now!” A woman burst through the door of the City Steam, a cell phone pressed against her ear. “It’s on the television in here! There’s a rift! Right in the heart of Elm District!”
People around the café, who had begun glancing at the television in confusion, now began to pay closer attention.
A hush fell over the café as the woman's words sank in. Faces turned towards the television, eyes wide with concern and curiosity.
A young student, her eyes glued to the screen, whispered to a friend, "Do you think it's really that bad? The Elm District always has a problem with rifts right?"
“Oh no! My cousin is living over in the Elm district right now! I hope he’s okay!”
“Too bad we’re so far away. I’m a B-ranker myself, I bet I’d be able to take on whatever’s over there.”
“Hey, is that Clara directing everything? Clara Zetsuei? I’ve seen her on a few raids, she’s really good for how young she is. I’m surprised she went with joining the Hunter’s Association instead of one of the guilds. Didn’t take somebody like her as a government type.”
“I just hope the Stormforge Guild is able to get control of the dungeon. The Shadow Veil has been getting more than their fair share of dungeons to clean out, if you want my opinion.”
Josiah, completely engrossed in his book, continued taking notes as he slowly took another sip of his tea.
A woman, who was growing more frantic by the moment, rushed past his table, tripped on a chair leg, and bumped into Josiah. A great deal of the piping-hot tea spilled down the front of Josiah’s coat, and she gasped.
“I’m so sorry! Here, let me help you!” She grabbed up several napkins and began dabbing at his body, but he smiled and waved her away.
“No harm done. I was once the target of an acidic spitbeetle’s vomit attack. Trust me, that spill hurt far more than this.” He took the napkins from her. She didn’t seem to understand, at least until the movement caused the coat to drift away from his side, revealing a massive pistol. She blinked in surprise and took a step back, and he continued dabbing at the stain. “Now, you mentioned something about a rift?”
“Y-y-y-yes! Aren’t you paying attention?” The woman blinked in surprise and managed to regain her composure and pointed over towards a television where ‘Breaking News’ played out on a banner from the bottom of a scream.
“It’s all over the news. There’s a massive rift over in Elm District. They’re guessing it’s A or S ranked, and they only have B-ranked hunters and lower.”
“Yeah. Looks like it’ll be a disaster. The Mana Stone they have over in Elm District is supposed to limit the rifts that can spawn as C ranked or lower.” An older, rather grizzled man spoke up from a nearby table.
Judging from the broken weapons hanging at his side, he had been a warrior at one point, at least for a short time. “I reckon they’ll be getting some high-rankers over there just about as quick as they can, but it’ll take ‘em awhile. Those that can do something about it have been staying real busy these days, and not a lot of profit in staying close to Elm.”
“It might even be an irregular!” The woman nodded. “This is terrible! How…” She frowned as Josiah picked up his book and went back to reading. “Aren’t you concerned?”
“I am, and I’ll be going to help. I just need to finish up this paragraph.” He paused for a moment, then nodded and shut the book. “And there we have it.”
With his task roughly completed, he slowly rose, and put the book back into the glowing opening of his inventory that appeared in front of him. The woman stared at him, then took a step back.
“Are you a hunter?”
“Something of the sort. But an awakened none the less. I’m bound to a higher calling than simply hunting. Though, in this case, I am certainly called to aid.”
“I don’t understand.” Her voice wavered.
“Have you ever heard the parable of the Shepherd and the Lost Lamb?” He asked.
His voice was calm, and by now, the entire cafe was turning toward him. Toward the unassuming man who had a power to his words.
“The what?” She shook her head. “Is that some new grocery store novel?”
“No.” He laughed as he started walking toward the door. “It’s a very old story, from long before the dungeons arrived. In it, a shepherd has a flock of sheep, 99 in all, but one goes missing. Leaving his main flock in safe pasture, he leaves and hunts until he finds the single, lost lamb.”
“Why bring that up now?” The woman tried, and failed, to grasp his point.
“Because wolves have come for a lamb.” He answered, leaning in slightly. “And I’ve come for the wolves.”
“And you think you’re the shepherd?”
