Chaos Rising: The Realms Book Six: (An Epic LitRPG Series) Read online

  “A Chaos Spore,” Jurredix said, his normal placid voice tinged with fear.

  “It cannot be,” Tal said, but then Vex grinned, and he knew the archon was correct. A Chaos Spore was a splintered shard of one of the immortal motes of sentient chaos mortals called the Princes of Chaos. When bonded to a host, the spore allowed the Prince to act through them beyond their eternal prison.

  Is this why Baelmaera is missing? Has she possessed Vex?

  The Chaos Spore was a cosmic hack of sorts, the only way for a Prince to breach the impenetrable barrier the Source had long ago set about the Maelstrom. But the energies of chaos were virulent, and in short order they would consume everything the host was, leaving nothing behind but a scoured, soulless husk.

  How did Vex succumb to this?

  Tal had no time to consider the question, as Vex twisted her wrist, tearing at the fabric of the anchor’s crystalline matrix. If she destroyed the obelisk, then any hope of closing the rift forming inside the metallic ring would die with it.

  “Kill her,” Tal commanded, and Dyrria and her guards rushed into battle.

  Vex clenched her free hand and chaotic energy flowed around her arm in erratic whorls. The shredded remains of the Synod quivered and then stood like macabre marionettes. They lurched towards the approaching guards and Tal knew his unwilling allies would be dead in mere moments. I am sorry Dyrria.

  “We need a plan,” Jurredix said, nodding towards Vex, who had returned her attention to the anchor. “Until we secure the anchor, it remains vulnerable. It cannot hold up to that kind of strain for long.”

  “Dammit,” Tal muttered. There was only one way to stop Vex, and he was sure it would end up with them all dead. “Take the anchor,” he yelled to Jurredix. The archon gave Tal an odd glance as if to question his mental state. While powerful creations of order, archons were incapable of harnessing the power necessary to cast Anchor of Order.

  Worse yet, their rigid modes of thinking made them ill-suited to shifting their mental state quick enough to tame and direct the chaotic energy inside the anchor. An archon’s job was to protect the anchor once it was set. To handle one before that was unheard of, akin to heresy and would likely end with all the stored energy of the anchor exploding in their faces.

  “This is a bad idea,” Jurredix said, but to his credit his hesitation was brief, and he took control of the anchor, freeing Tal from the burden.

  “Have a little faith. You’ve spent so much time with me; you’re likely to have acquired some of my irrational thought processes. Use them.”

  “We are all going to die.”

  “Probably,” Tal acknowledged and tapped the amulet at his throat. A crystalline matrix of Order Magic expanded around him like a blocky set of armor. The armor upped his physical attributes by a staggering amount and also provided a perfect defense against Chaos Magic, for like the anchor, the armor fed on chaos energy. Tal jumped, soaring over the shuddering anchor, threw both hands forward and dual cast Order Bolt.

  Forty knives of pure order energy raced towards Vex. Order Bolt was the first offensive spell taught to every Deacon in training. It was weak at low levels, but in the hands of a Grandmaster of Order Magic, it was a devastating weapon. Because of his level and the Perks he’d chosen, each bolt did 50 points of damage, and they never, ever missed. The barrage of missiles rained down upon Vex, their impact causing searing blind spots to flash in Tal’s vision.

  He blinked his eyes clear to see Vex grinning at him, untouched behind a swirling field of shimmering blood orange energy. A moment later the field blinked out. Tal wasn’t surprised. After all, Vex was a Grandmaster of Chaos Magic. The higher tiers of both spheres granted their users various degrees of immunity to their opposite. How else could they devote themselves to combating them?

  Tal landed just as he finished casting Irresistible Binding, his real attack. His glowing fist punched into the floor. A pulse of kinetic energy moved through the floor and raced towards Vex. Just before it reached the chaos sorcerer, it twined into a spiral pattern of mathematical precision. As the pattern twined larger and larger, nodes of order burst through the floor. As each one emerged, ribbon-like bands of white energy exploded outwards, wrapping themselves around Vex’s arms, legs and torso.

  The bands wrenched Vex's arms back mid casting, and her face turned to a pained scowl. Through pure force of will, she stopped the mana from surging back into her. Her strength impressed Tal, but he had expected it. He grimaced and wrapped additional shining bands around Vex and then lash themselves to the shuddering anchor.

  Tal was about to close his fist and slam Vex onto the diamond-sharp point of the anchor when the chaos animated corpses of the Synod slammed into him. Curse the Maelstrom, I forgot about them. Fists and magic pummeled him, and his armor’s health plummeted.

  He reached out, searching for Dyrria or any of her guards, and felt the flicker that told him his sister-in-law still lived. He commanded her to his side, where she sliced the heads from three of the Synod corpses in mere seconds. The rest kept pummeling Tal, but he had enough of a breather to focus on Vex and the anchor.

  He closed his fist and pulled Vex towards the point of the anchor. This time nothing would arrest her motion. Tal rejoiced, but then the vile entropy of raw chaos scalded into his brain and the anchor shuddered to a stop. Blood flowed from his nose and he looked up to see the first of the Princes of Chaos pulling itself through the aperture of the Realm Gate. The monstrosity was well over a hundred feet in height as it dragged itself into Korynn. The beast was horned, its crimson skin dripping gore and blood like sweat.

  Mixengettorax, the Lord of Rage and Blood roared in triumph, knowing in mere moments all the Realms would feel his wrath.

  “Jurredix, give me control of the anchor.”

  “It does not have sufficient power to seal the breach.”

  “I know. I have another idea,” Tal said and looked his longtime companion in the eyes. He spoke no further words, for they needed none. The archon understood that neither of them would survive what they must do. He ceded control of the anchor back to Tal. “It has been an honor, my friend.”

  “I will see you in the Forum when we both coalesce,” the archon said.

  Tal nodded and let his mind flow into the anchor. Its structure was near failure, weakened by Vex’s assault, but it would hold long enough for Tal’s purpose. He pulled the anchor forward and altered its course ever so slightly.

  A dagger wielded by one of the Synod penetrated his armor and sank into his side. Before the pain could distract him, he detached his mind from the cares of his body. He heard himself scream as a searing pain assaulted his nerves but told himself it was not happening to him. He pushed all of his will into the anchor and it accelerated.

  It sped right past Vex, whose momentary grin of glee faded when she realized his true goal. The point of the anchor slammed into the rotating Realm Gate, punching all of its power into the metal, releasing the incredible energies of the rift. The explosion shredded Vex’s body, threw Jurredix backward into the far wall and tore off one of Mixengettorax’s arms. The concussive force tossed Tal up, cracking his armor.

  The Realm Gate twisted and spun tearing at the hole between realms. It expanded and then contracted, bisecting Mixengettorax before spinning down into a singularity. The Lord of Rage and Blood screamed and transformed into a stream of energetic particles that were then sucked back into the Realm of Chaos.

  For several seconds the world turned quiet and then the singularity pulsed and exploded in a blinding white flash.

  In the city above, children and guards, pedestrians and shop owners all stopped as a deep rumble rose. Confusion had no time to become a concern, much less fear before the ground ruptured and the city exploded.

  1

  The air in the Hub buzzed with frantic energy as Gryph rattled off a series of complex orders with the ease of a born commander. Lex ran at his side, feeling both helpless and guilty. He pumped his oft-maligned short le
gs, desperate to keep pace. Lex had failed Gryph. He had failed everybody.

  They’d been so close to tearing the Godhead from Aluran’s perfect brow, only to have the High Douche activate a Port Stone and disappear, leaving nothing behind but his severed hand and their group in shock. Lex turned to Vonn, searching for solace in his friend’s eyes.

  He found none, for the rogue’s eyes, were as vacant as his own. That, more than anything filled Lex with fear. He had never seen the half-elf so rattled. Ovyrm looked even more ashen than normal, which was an accomplishment considering the xydai’s skin, like all of his people, was the color of spent charcoal. Errat walked like a mindless automaton. The always affable warborn looked tired and worn. Even Eris, whose intensity burned like a roaring hearth fire, had grown silent.

  We’re fucked, Lex thought to himself. He looked at Gryph, his player, his lord, his friend. The silver-haired elf, so different in appearance from the man he’d been on Earth, spoke in a calm and clear voice to Grimliir. The dwarf Steward nodded as his lord gave commands.

  This is the man Gryph needs, Lex thought, a rush of self-loathing humming through him. Not some jackass fool whose main asset is a quick mouth. Lex’s mind rushed back to the encounter with Aluran. What could I have done differently? He could think of nothing, but that did not ease his feelings of guilt, his utter sense of failure.

  The constant hum of Gryph’s confident voice brought Lex some much-needed comfort. Gryph would know what to do. Gryph would make this right.

  “We need to resupply,” Gryph told Grimliir. “And then we’re off to Avernia to retrieve Brynn. Aluran knows who she is, he knows who I am, and he knows where we are. While I’m gone, you will double down on all programs related to the war effort and cease work on any non-essential projects. Call Simon and tell him to prepare for our arrival.”

  “Aye, Yer Lordship,” Grimliir said, his face red as he forced himself to keep his lord’s pace. “What else can I do?”

  Before Gryph could answer, a jolt of alarm punched into Lex and his eyes snapped to Gryph. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

  “You are in charge while I am…” Gryph’s face twisted into a rictus of pain and he fell to one knee. Lex had moved before his player had fallen, somehow sensing what was about to happen.

  “Gryph!?” He heard his voice yell but did not remember yelling. Lex caught Gryph by the arm, preventing him from pitching forward onto his face. “What is it?”

  Gryph’s eyes widened, and he stared up at Lex. “I…” he started, and then his eyes rolled back into his head and his body seized.

  Lex sensed it before he saw it. The weight of Gryph’s arm became lighter and then it grew faint. An intense red prompt filled Lex’s vision and his heart sank.

  WARNING: FORCED LOGOUT OF YOUR PLAYER INITIATED!

  “No, no, no, don’t pull me out,” Gryph said, his voice distant and then like a wisp of smoke in the wind, he disappeared.

  “Gryph? No!” Lex waved his arms through the space where Gryph had been, grasping for something, anything and feeling foolish for the attempt. A pained trill emerged from Raathiel and Lex turned towards the silver and rainbow-colored coatl. “Raathiel, can you still feel him?”

  No, I … He is simply … gone. I can no longer feel him. The pain in the coatl’s mental voice mirrored Lex’s own.

  Lex collapsed onto his haunches. Desperate fear battled confusion as his body grew cold. He felt faint and wanted nothing more than to lie down when strong hands lifted him, and a soft voice spoke in his ear.

  “You need to get up, Lex. Gryph needs you. We need you.”

  Lex forced his eyes to focus, and he turned to see Vonn at his side, his expression, for once, not wry or insulting, but warm. Lex saw the fear in Vonn’s eyes, but also determination. The rogue smiled and after a moment Lex nodded, letting Vonn help him to his feet. Lex wiped the dirt from his robes and then looked up to find the others were staring at him, waiting on him.

  They don’t expect me to take charge here, do they? Lex asked himself in bewilderment. His eyes looked from one to the other and he realized that was exactly what they expected. Even Ovyrm, who’d had few kind words for Lex since they’d met, looked at him with intensity. Well shit. We are so fucked.

  “Gryph was forcibly logged out of the Realms,” Lex said, telling them of the prompt.

  “Bechard sealed access and egress to the Realms,” Eris said, eyes wide in shock. “Gryph, you and I were the last in. Getting in or out is impossible.”

  “Evidently not,” Lex said. He had no explanation. As far as he knew, Eris was right. Alistair Bechard, the man they knew as the High God Aluran, who'd they recently discovered was also The Dread God Morrigan, had shut down all access to the logout feature of the Realms. Nobody had been able to get in or out. Until now.

  “The timing is most peculiar,” Ovyrm said.

  “Ya think!” Lex roared, immediately apologetic that he’d let his frustration get the better of him. “But what does it mean?”

  “For now, the how and the why dinnae matter laddie,” Grimliir said, laying a strong hand on Lex’s shoulder.

  Lex stared at him, ready to argue that yes the how and the why damn well mattered, but then a calmer part of his mind took control and he nodded. “Grimliir’s right. We may have lost Gryph, but that doesn’t mean we’ve lost our purpose.”

  Ovyrm bowed. Eris eased a hand down to the handle of one of her revolvers. Errat smiled and stood tall. Vonn leaned back, ready for whatever action Lex required of him. Even Raathiel eyed him with desperate hope. Lex reached into his bag and pulled forth a shimmering gem. It was a Port Icon, a magical device that powered Port Gates, the long-range transportation devices built by the ancient Nimmerians.

  Gryph had given him one of the rare devices before leaving for their mission to save Brynn, in case Gryph fell, or they were separated. Gryph planned to have Yrriel teach Lex Imbuing so he could use the Port Icon on his own. It shocked him to learn that Lex already possessed the skill.

  Abashed, Lex had admitted he’d made use of an Analyze skill perk called Skill Osmosis to 'borrow' the skill from Gryph. Lex could still see the look of disapproval on his player’s face. Could still hear the edge of anger in his voice.

  “What other skills did you borrow?” Gryph had asked, with an intense stare.

  “Nothing much,” Lex had said staring down at his feet, before muttering under his breath. “Just Divination from Sillendriel, Aether Magic from Errat and Lore, Ritual Magic and … ahem, Chaos Magic from you.” The last he said in an even lower voice, making Gryph’s eyes widen.

  “Chaos Magic?” Gryph whispered in anger and pulled Lex aside as a cadre of warborn rushed by. “You know they imprisoned me for using that skill?”

  “Yeah, which is why I waited until after they found you not guilty before stealing, I mean borrowing it.”

  Gryph stared at Lex for several long moments, doing a more than passable impersonation of the angry, but loving father, that was a permanent trope of the sitcoms Lex had watched back on Earth. Gryph’s shoulders relaxed, and he spoke in a low and intense voice. “Keep that to yourself and do not do it again.”

  Lex nodded and then suggested Gryph might want to work on some kind of Osmosis countermeasures. “We don’t want Aluran stealing your sweet skills from you, now do we?” The look of panic that crossed Gryph’s face had been both satisfying and terrifying.

  “I’ll work on it,” the gruff-voiced player had agreed.

  Now, thinking back on the moment, Lex formulated a plan. He took a deep breath and then spoke.

  “Our mission has not changed, it just has a new dimension. We will resupply and head to the Port Gate.” He turned to Grimliir. “Send word to Yrriel and have her meet us there. She will train the lot of you in Imbuing, so you can use this.” He held the Port Icon high, then he turned to Ovyrm, Eris and Raathiel. “Ovrym, Eris and Raathiel are going to Avernia to find Brynn and bring her back here. Take as many of the rangers and warbo
rn with you as you deem necessary. Once you’re there, pull the Port Icon through so you can use it to return.”

  “What are you going to do?” the xydai asked, his tone suggesting the wisdom of Lex's orders surprised him.

  “Errat, Vonn and I are going to the Barrow. We’ll take Simon’s Port Icon and head to Harlan’s Watch to talk to Sean. He was the one who got us past Aluran’s defenses and into the Realms. If anyone will understand what happened to Gryph and how to get him back, it’s Sean.”

  “A solid plan,” Ovyrm said. Lex waited for a but, though if the xydai was thinking anything, he kept it to himself.

  “Simon will grumble about losing his Port Icon,” Vonn said. “He’s rather attached to that bauble.”

  “Let him. He may be an undead lord, but he’s still a kid and he’ll listen to his elders or I’ll bend him over my knee.”

  “Is it odd that I’m both eager and terrified to see that,” Vonn snickered.

  Lex scowled as the image of spanking a lich invaded his mind. Damn traitor brain, Lex grumbled to himself and turned to Grimliir. “You already have your orders from Gryph.”

  “Aye, I will keep our people safe and we will be ready for whatever the High God brings.”

  “Okay, then,” Lex said louder than was strictly necessary. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. A rush of uncertainty hit him as the full measure of the unwanted leadership role filled him. “Um.” He eyed Vonn, begging for an assist.

  “Let’s do this thing,” Vonn said, only partially mocking Lex’s tone.

  “Let’s do this thing indeed,” Lex said, his confidence growing.

  2

  After resupplying, the group made their way to the Port Gate. It lay amidst the ruins of Xygarrion, an ancient Nimmerian city long ago destroyed when their ruling council foolishly attempted to tame the power of chaos.

  A small, but impressive fortress protected the gate, a solid defensive bulwark designed to protect the long-distance transportation device from threats, be they local or external.