Reborn: Evolution: A LitRPG Series (Warlock Chronicles Book 3)

  Warlock Chronicles

  Reborn: Evolution

  Gleb Alucard

  Lit Orange

  Copyright © 2020 Gleb Alucard

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Translated by Sanja Gajin

  Edited by Marina Zikic

  Published by Lit Orange

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  BISON

  Chapter 2

  ELF’S FORECAST

  Chapter 3

  CHEATING IS BAD, RIGHT?

  Chapter 4

  TO THE SHRIEKING MOUNTAIN!

  Chapter 5

  TUNNELS, WORMS, AND MIDGES

  Chapter 6

  LORD OF THE FLIES

  Chapter 7

  TWO FANATICS

  Chapter 8

  THE UNCHARTED LANDS

  Chapter 9

  THE MIRACULOUS WELL

  Chapter 10

  PORTAL OPERATOR

  Chapter 11

  SAND

  Chapter 12

  MONKEY BRAINS

  Chapter 13

  SNOW

  Chapter 14

  THE FOREST FOLK

  Chapter 15

  A PROMISE

  Chapter 16

  SCAR

  Chapter 17

  THE RED BARON

  Chapter 18

  ROVAL

  Chapter 19

  EVENING

  Chapter 20

  THE CITY ON THE VERGE OF ABYSS

  Chapter 21

  ARCHON

  Chapter 22

  GAME OVER

  Epilogue

  Warlock Chronicles 3

  Reborn: Evolution

  The war ended, leaving dozens of corpses behind. Little did they know that this was only the first battle that would be waged in an even more brutal war against the System itself. A titan and a wave of paralyzing cold, like a hammer and anvil, are about to flatten the pitiful remnants of the surviving players. What should a simple psychic do in this case?

  …

  Jump through portals and worlds in search of fragments of a key that will open the door to the Underworld!

  Prologue

  A figure stood in front of a wall of screens, observing what was happening on the other side.

  The stranger looked like a tall anthropomorphic octopus dressed in a swamp green jumpsuit. On the thick bridge of their hooked nose, they wore a silver electronic device that vaguely resembled glasses. Their skin glistened due to a layer of translucent slime; the tentacles that emerged from their neck quivered slightly, emanating a poisonous green light. In addition to the tentacles, the octopus had ordinary limbs: two arms and two pairs of long, thin legs, dark and covered in slime. It was barely possible to see the creature in more detail in the dim light. But the most observant would’ve noticed the movable metal plates adorning the octopus’s body — merged together, they resembled something akin to an exoskeleton.

  The octopus’s swollen face had a thoughtful expression. It was quite ugly, if not frightening with such a clear and at the same time perverse resemblance to a human face. The octopus was constantly wiping the “glasses” with a small cloth, clutched in one of the tentacles emerging from within the jumpsuit. In addition to the cloth, the tentacles held a small cube of solidified epoxy resin pierced by a dozen wires.

  The creature’s unblinking eyes suddenly froze on one of the screens. The dark pupils reflected a dot moving north.

  “So soon? How intriguing,” the octopus whispered. “Very interesting...”

  The tentacles fiddled with the epoxy cube and a hologram of another octopus appeared in the air. Visually, they differed by a slightly fLeshyer nose and reddish color of the tentacles.

  “I’m listening,” said a hoarse but rather pleasant voice.

  After a brief pause, during which their eyes moved over the screen as if checking something, the first octopus said:

  “Get ready. Phase 3L-KST.”

  The hologram feigned surprise and disappeared a second later.

  The first octopus rubbed their hands together contentedly and stared at the screens again, pondering.

  Chapter 1

  BISON

  Hello, I’m Dan... But you probably remember me as Warlock, Loki for short. You must be wondering what happened to me. After the battle with the Burgundies, I spent ten days on the edge of existence. And then I woke up.

  With Leshy dead and the Burgundies out of the picture, I no longer had a reason to be a parasite. So, which body did I choose? Leshy’s, of course. It was almost perfect, with the best build. The man knew what he was doing.

  After killing about fifty Burgundies, I was expected to become the most advanced player in the faction. A lot of this experience, if not most of it, went to the Black Pilgrims. To those that managed to survive, at least. Still, thirty-five levels were a decent reward.

  But more on that later.

  Right now, I was with a squad of Grays standing on a field near the Black Mountain. In front of us was a herd of NPCs who wanted us dead. Very dead.

  ***

  The leader of the big-bellied bison reared up and bucked menacingly, shaking its horned head. He was challenging the strongest among us to a duel, so he could rightfully take over the territory.

  The bison looked around at the players and fixed his gaze on the strongest-looking among them — a big, burly creature covered with snakeskin...

  Hold on! That’s me! Buddy, you’ve signed your own death sentence.

  These guys had come from the north, trampling the recently fallen (and almost melted) snow with their strong hooves. They seemed to like our Mountain a lot with its rye fields, fresh water, and the mountain range that surrounded and protected this little oasis of ours. But here was the thing — this was our base. We, the Grays, wouldn’t stand such behavior so we went out to teach them a lesson.

  Fifteen players armed with iron weapons, and another fifteen Goblins, clad in simple but quite durable chainmail. Who could go up against such a team? The answer was — fifty level-sixty bison, each weighing at least a ton. Though, they seemed reluctant to fight, so they proposed a duel. That is, that’s how we interpreted the behavior of the bison that stood in a circle.

  Swinging a scimitar and cracking my neck, I stepped forth.

  In addition to the famous weapon of the Turkish janissaries, I took light chainmail and a Russian chichak (a badass helmet) from the warehouse. A strange combination, I know. But by this time, we had just reached the early Middle Ages stage so the creation of a scimitar was ahead of its time and was a nice addition to the arsenal. It cost quite a lot of research points, but Cap wanted it. As a big fan of Eastern weapons, he was practically foaming at the mouth when he was explaining to Korzh that the scimitar was the best cold weapon made in the entire history of mankind. The two were arguing for hours and we had to separate them in fear of them attacking one another.

  In the end, the two came to an agreement — scimitars for offense, chainmail, and chichaks for defense. Still, Cap wasn’t happy about it. He wanted to replicate the janissaries’ gear but he had to agree. So, now we were all armed with scimitars
and dressed in chainmail.

  In my opinion, the sword was good. It was light, strong, and comfortable to hold, but it wasn’t like Leshy’s level-fifty-nine mountain of a body. To be honest, I relied more on the latter.

  ***

  Bison Leader

  Level 123

  He was levels above me and much heavier, but I doubted that he had more than two brain cells. I had killed so many creatures and players, what was one bison?

  “Loki, are you sure about this?” Valkyrie’s voice floated to me.

  “Please, once I’m done with him, we’ll chop him up and eat him for dinner,” I replied. What were they so afraid of?

  The bison looked at me, eyes red with anger, and blew a cloud of steam out his nostrils. Then he rushed straight at me.

  I assumed a fighting stance (Cap had taught us the basics of scimitar wielding) and waited. Sixty feet...

  Thirty... Dozens of eyes stared at me. If I were being honest, I missed that… It felt kinda nice to be in the center of attention.

  “Loki, what the fuck are you doing?!” Several players shouted when the bison was fifteen feet away. But I wasn’t listening.

  Six feet...

  I kicked off the ground and leaped into the air. Turning around mid-air, I pointed the scimitar at its back and plunged down. The blade sank into the flesh and muscle like a hot knife into butter, slicing through it with a squelch and a screech when it hit the ribs. But the bison didn’t stop. Bleeding profusely, he tried to throw me off by jumping around.

  I held on to the hilt with all my might so that I wouldn’t be thrown under its hooves. Ha! I felt like I was in a rodeo! But instead of a bull, I had a monster trashing under me. And the fucker simply refused to die.

  The scimitar was already hilt-deep in his back but it didn’t seem to cause any significant damage. It just made him angry, which in turn made a shiver run down my spine as I realized that my plan had turned sour.

  Nevertheless, I could stay on his back for quite a long time. Leshy’s grip was deadly. Still, I had underestimated the bison — there just might be three brain cells in his head. He quickly realized that trashing about wouldn’t do anything and that the person on his back would eventually win.

  Having reached that realization, the bison froze... and then jumped up and fell to his side with a loud crash.

  I barely had the time to tuck my legs close to my chest. Another second and they would’ve been crushed. I couldn’t stay on his back any longer so I slowly slid off him and onto the ground.

  A moment later, the bison’s hoof hit me in the chest, sending me flying a good thirty feet back. The fall almost knocked the breath out of me. Something in my chest hurt. My right leg was bent at an odd angle and my knee joint was smashed to pieces. Darkness clouded my vision but I had the strength to remain conscious just enough to see a bison running at me.

  Level one hundred and twenty-three was flickering above its head.

  ***

  I listened to the beating of heavy hooves against the frozen ground, counting down the moments to my death. I was no longer a parasite (back then it seemed like a good idea), and killing this body meant I’d actually die. I watched the bison spew jets of steam from his nostrils as his eyes glared at the daredevil who dared challenge it. The scimitar in his back quivered with each step he took.

  I hate to admit it... But this seems like the end...

  “Rat, help!” I gasped, spitting blood as I fought for a new breath of air.

  My trusty pet flew out of the bushes and slammed against the bison, pushing it aside. The Rat was much smaller than his opponent, but the speed he had accumulated running to the bison allowed him to knock the beast over with momentum, and save me from certain doom.

  The enraged bison turned and slammed a hoof into Rat’s body, cracking his ribs, but a Worm slid under the bison’s feet from the opposite side and pierced his stomach with its stinger, injecting venom into the bison’s body. The beast roared and, forgetting about the Rat, tried to catch the Worm but it had already slipped away. The Dark Brain Eater’s tentacles wrapped around the bison, pinning him in place.

  All this happened in a matter of seconds. Finally, the players and the rest of the bison seemed to shake off the shock and rushed at each other. Our little duel had failed.

  Amoeba and Ivan came to Rat’s rescue. Together with the Worm, they quickly dealt with the bison and immediately turned to the rest of the herd.

  ***

  “Loki, is everything okay?” Willow asked, leaning over me. She was a pretty girl from the Beige Faction who, if the rumors were true, had somehow copied her real-world appearance.

  I tried to get up but my broken leg stopped me.

  “Hold on,” she said, bending over the injured limb.

  “Huh?”

  With strength unbecoming of someone as frail looking as her, she snapped my leg back into its place.

  “Fuck!” I exclaimed. “Why didn’t you warn me?!”

  “Oh, what’s this to a hero like you?” With a mocking grin, she handed me over to Rat and rushed off into battle.

  Goddamn her! I’ll snap her bones back in place and see how she likes it! I stretched, closed my eyes, and tried to come to senses. I was to blame... Killer of the Burgundies, a demon, and the most powerful player in the faction... and I almost got flattened by a bison. Loss does humble a person. Perhaps I should get off my high horse.

  On the other hand, was that really my fault? How come this creature was so powerful?

  The bigger issue was actually where this herd had come from. The local mobs were much lower level and much less dangerous (unless we counted those in the Wilds with their unique abilities, but they were an entirely different topic).

  According to the scouts, the mobs had come from the north. I wondered if this meant that there were more dangerous mobs lurking there?

  Fortunately, the rest of the bison weren’t as strong or as stubborn as their leader. Having lost their leader and several other strong males, the herd, now led by a level-eighty bison, rushed in the direction of the river, swam across it, and disappeared between the trees.

  “Seems like our base isn’t to their liking...” Ivan said, looking at a bison emerging from the water on the opposite bank.

  “Seems like it,” Amoeba agreed with a smile.

  ***

  I think I should say a couple of words about my allies.

  After significant advances in technology research, Amoeba looked even stranger than usual. Imagine a six-foot-tall and four-foot-wide jelly-like creature with a transparent body. You could see his brains and eyes floating in his head and the entire nervous and cardiovascular system. Hell, you could use him as an anatomy model. If that wasn’t off-putting enough, the helmet made his head look even more bizarre.

  He didn’t wear chainmail as it prevented him from fighting like he was used to. That is, from pulling his opponents into his body where he’d digest them as they slowly died from suffocation. Luckily for Amoeba, he had the best damage resistance and the fastest regeneration rate in the entire faction so he needed less protection than the rest of us.

  Ivan, on the other hand, preferred to be clad in armor from head to toe, successfully turning himself into a walking fort. Instead of a sword (which looked more like a letter opener in his hands), he carried an iron club, claiming that he had come up with the idea before Jell did. He couldn’t get away from being constantly compared to him, and he couldn’t come to terms that Jell was stronger than him. During the attack on the base, he was throwing Ivan around like a sack of potatoes. Then again, Jell was under the effect of the drug at the moment (so the fight wasn’t fair), but Ivan still couldn’t accept it. Any mention of Jell’s name made him throw a hissy fit.

  The rest of the group hadn’t wasted time or resources either. I hadn’t seen them in weeks and during the fight with the Burgundies, I had only glanced in their directions, so, after recovering, I was surprised by what I saw. Valkyrie had changed the shape of her s
pine and became more humanoid-looking with long ostrich legs. She had turned herself into a cavalry unit that even surpassed the Wolves in terms of speed. She swung her broadsword at the slower enemies, after which she ran away. Add to this her Sense of Danger, and she had turned herself into a killing machine.

  Greek’s “searchlight” could now reach quite far and had become extremely bright. Even Ivan couldn’t stand it. Or rather, he could, but he risked losing his eyeballs.

  Spider had developed his legs, the blows of which now crushed the bones of low-level mobs. Pavel had strengthened his body and seriously increased his health bar. Elf, the chemist, had transformed his digestive system and was now testing all of its possibilities with Amoeba.

  All in all, the changes were significant. And they didn’t happen only in our ranks.

  Dealing with the Burgundies gave us a double bonus in development. All the major technological advancements were discovered by the early Middle Ages stage. In front of the Development tree, on the stone pedestal, appeared a totem depicting two heads atop one another, their faces twisted in a deathly cry: the lower one was beige, and the upper one burgundy. The new totem immediately increased the number of daily research points, and the small wooden totems that we had built made this process twice as fast.

  All this gave our faction the opportunity to seriously develop the infrastructure and security: Goblins’ houses, who were previously huddled in dilapidated buildings, were repaired, a simple sewer system had been dug, and a fairly strong wall had been built to protect the base from attacks from the north. The efficiency of production, in particular, the military-industrial complex, had significantly increased.

  The Goblins, under the leadership of Fang One, had long since become an important part of the Grays and enjoyed almost all the rights that the players had except that they didn’t hold senior positions. However, they were amazing assistants: hardworking humanoids dressed in wool tunics or wrapped in fur capes trained hard and performed their duties with zeal. Amoeba and Elf, who used the house the furthest from the settlement as their laboratory, had already begun to introduce their wards to experiments. Cap had long been training a squad of Goblins, and the three handymen of our faction, the mechanic White, the historian Korzh, and the traveler Fedor, also had Goblins to assist them with their work.