The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series, Dan Sugralinov [the read aloud family TXT] 📗

next. The optimal decision was to hide my allies somewhere in the Pitfall, then come back and neutralize our enemies. But how? Stay here all day killing each one dozens of times? Or throw them down to Abaddon in the hope that not all of them would survive the fall?

No more of our own people had resurrected. On the other hand, I could clearly see the enemy leaders: Marcus, Urkish and Caville. Only Youlang and Inchito were absent. If they survived, then they must have been in the Pitfall still.

One after another, the last of the raid’s rank and file appeared and huddled together.

“Join arms!” Marcus commanded. “So he can’t carry us off one by one!”

Two more contestants joined the ranks of the survivors. Marcus’s raid was now assembled. The strongest were arrayed on the outer edge of the ring, with shields, knives and pikes held before them. The mages and healers hid behind them. They were all joined in a single whole, their arms locked together.

“Hunters, launch Signal Flares!” Marcus’s command rang through the graveyard. “Scyth could be in Stealth! Shamans, cast Slow Totems! Mages, cast shields and Tearing Sparks!”

Tiny sparks filled the air like a cloud of diamond dust, knocking me out of Stealth. Activating Clarity, I flew upwards and turned invisible again. The perimeter of the graveyard lit up with the hunters’ Signal Flares, which revealed anyone invisible.

They saw me, shouted in preparation for battle, but I’d seen enough already. I flew back to my allies.

Once we were in the same raid, the crafters finally noticed me. Sighs and shouts of relief came from all over:

“Finally! Just in time! Any longer and you’d have nobody left to save!”

Bloomer shook my hand, gritting his teeth:

“Scyth! I’ve never felt so powerless! Avenge us!”

“Bloomer is right,” Meister rasped, casting a rage-filled glance at the graveyard where our enemies huddled. “What are you waiting for, kid? Why are they still alive?”

“All in good time,” I answered. “First I’ll take you somewhere safe, then vengeance and all that good stuff. I promise you, they won’t live out the day! Now let’s go!”

I hesitated, considering whether to use Tactical Retreat, but chose to save it. There was no direct threat to my allies right then.

We decided to leave through the forest. The scouts moved out first: Naiterio the druid and the two rogues Filex and Berstan. Behind them walked the others, staying thirty paces back. I stayed behind to cut off the pursuit. If anyone from Marcus’s raid decided to attack, they’d regret it.

Only Quetzal stayed with me, looking from side to side.

“Nobody else is coming. Let’s go. Strange. Two of my people aren’t here even though they’re alive.”

Yesterday, there had been almost a hundred and forty people across the raids of Meister, Quetzal and Hellfish. Now there were only around thirty. And Infect was still in the group.

“Tissa got zeroed in front of me,” I said. “Where’s Infect?”

“Hiding somewhere, I think,” Quetzal shrugged. “The map here only shows groupmates in the same zone as you. The raid chat works on the same principle too. Anyway, catch us up…”

The enemies in the graveyard were clearly preparing to attack: silhouettes of fighters flashed with raid buffs and elixirs.

Even I couldn’t survive against almost a hundred top players ready for battle, and that meant I couldn’t protect my allies. There was just no way. Any control spell, stun, paralysis, and I’d be out of the running for at least a little while. And then the losses would pile up.

After checking that nobody was following us, I caught up to my people and landed next to the leaders of the allied raid. Knowing perfectly well that they were all a burden to me in that moment, and I could just leave them and concentrate on my own progress and on completing the games, I used all my willpower to push down a voice inside, one that whispered in silken tones that nobody had hired me to shepherd these people. They were all adults, it said; I didn’t have to fight with Marcus — I could just calmly take Despot and go even deeper… I shook myself, casting off the rotten thoughts pretending to be rational.

There was nothing rational about them! Losing the respect and trust of millions of viewers, abandoning my allies who had sacrificed themselves to save me — it would be suicide. I’d get what I wanted faster, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.

The destroyer and sniper noticed my internal conflict. They seemed to even understand the reason for the doubts plaguing me, but said nothing. Quetzal just reported:

“We’re going to the Pitfall. Or do you have a better idea?”

“I do. I can bind our enemies for an hour after death, stop them from resurrecting. Then we’ll be able to head down, get my pet, and, while I deal with the enemy… You’ll be able to go level up. Behemoth couldn’t have sent us a better tank than Despot for floor 100!”

“Behemoth?” Quetzal raised a brow.

Hellfish, a priest of the Sleepers, caught my eye and gave a slight shake of his head.

“A little swamp god I once knew,” I answered. “If this works, our path to the Pitfall will be open, and Marcus will be stuck in the great nothing for an hour.”

“What happened with your pet anyway, kid?” Quetzal asked. “Where’d you lose him?”

I told them about the gate seal on floor 531 and my futile attempts to remove it.

“There’s an easier way,” Hellfish said. “Gate seals below floor 100 are usually removed by the whole raid.”

“What do you mean?”

“You join hands,” he shrugged. “The damage gets split between everyone equally, taking away the same percentages. That’s how the lower gates are opened, at least without defensive abilities. But the boss aggro still goes to