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

All my allies bristled with weaponry. Anna gripped a silver spear, Meister — his sabers. The ogre Niceguy held a javelin, and hobbit Nobu wielded a slingshot. Hellfish fashioned something of a barricade out of a couple of boulders and took up position behind it, his eyes narrowed. Destiny focused, released her bowstring.

“They’re coming!”

That got the others going — like it or not, everyone was ranged now. Even Quetzal had to get the hang of a crossbow taken from one of the Markers. I checked my spirit bar — enough for ten ranged hits at this distance. But if I got a little closer…

I returned to the tunnel.

“Keep left, Scyth!” Hellfish shouted behind me. “Don’t block the view!”

Flying along the left side and reaching Despot, with his halberd arms stuck into the stone to keep himself grounded, I looked into the boiling mass behind him. The system labels shifted constantly, but the most frequent one was:

Multifacet, Demon, level 594 Gate Guardian

Dungeon Boss.

“Despot…” I shouted. “On my command, move your right arm out of the way!”

“It will be done…” the demon growled. His body twitched and slowly shifted towards me under the pressure of the demonic mass.

Three… Two…

“Now!” I shouted, and as soon as I saw a gap wide enough for me, I went into Clarity.

I had to stretch myself tall and breathe in to fit between my ally and the wall. Feeling Despot’s chitinous spines scratching my body, I went through with my arms raised before me, came out head first and face to face with a disgusting visage — one of many. Multifacet’s long neck stretched out, and the head was just at the stage of transforming into Despot.

Crunch! echoed out fifty-four times — that was how many moves my Fast Combo included, strengthened by the Talon. Next, while the combo was on cooldown, I fired off Storm Fists at the boss. The game mechanics allowed me to deal damage without missing.

Unarmed Combat level increased: +12. Current level: 75 (rank II).

Accuracy and damage of strikes dealt without a weapon increased by 1320%.

Spirit: +1,200. Total: 9,790.

The fact that Multifacet was one of the first strong bosses to arrive was a gift of fate! Thanks to the huge level difference, Unarmed Combat leveled up rapidly, and my supply of spirit along with it! Almost every hit extended my Clarity!

Strangely enough, I felt even happier that I was dealing barely any damage. In a few sped-up seconds, I had taken down the demon’s health by only… 1%! It was clear why: I was in a raid, and the boss scaled to our numbers!

The burst of joy was soon replaced by boredom from the monotonous rotation of abilities: Combo, Storm Fists, Combo, Storm Fists again. Multifacet’s life fell steadily. At 54%, the boss stopped transforming into Despot and began turning into me instead. He didn’t have time to finish. As Unarmed Combat grew, so did the levels of my combat abilities and the damage from every strike.

I reached only level 135, but my raid gained a few dozen levels at once! Magnetism pulled in the self-loading epic Five-Barreled Hellrifle with a sniper scope and infinite ammunition.

Seeing the loot in the logs, Hellfish cried out, but Clarity just turned the noise into an unintelligible roar. After finishing off a few dozen mobs, I flew out from the gap between the wall and Despot, went back to normal speed. I needed to get rid of my loot to get my Talon back.

“Despot, block the passage!” I shouted, darting over to the contestants.

Quetzal checked to make sure Despot’s roadblock was impassable, then stood behind him and tirelessly stabbed with his epic blade at monsters trying to squeeze through.

“Can I have that rifle, Scyth?” the sniper repeated his question.

I gave him the loot from Multifacet and sat down to catch my breath. While Hellfish span the high-level epic in his hands and whistled, Nobu the chef and Niceguy the alchemist poured me some invigorating drinks and potions. I unloaded all the loot and went straight back into battle.

“Despot, raise your left arm!”

Unarmed Combat had technically reached rank three, but since Path of Spirit had no limits on progress, it showed up differently in my profile:

Unarmed Combat (rank II): 143.

Only then did I realize the true power of Path of Spirit. Oyama had spoken of it, but back then I could barely imagine the potential of the path I’d chosen. The illusory eternal rank two of the skill implied that my abilities could now progress beyond a hundred levels! After level 100, Spirit-Crushing Hammerfist of Justice just moved straight to 101 and got a corresponding boost.

Inspired by the possibilities, I looked at the targets flashing before me and fired off a full Combo, not in Clarity, but in Stealth. I decided to save my spirit and slow time only when I met a strong mob.

After so many ordinary demons that I lost count of the strikes I delivered to the endless mass of flesh, a new boss hoved into view — Tital, level 372 Fallen Minotaur. The fifteen-foot-tall demon with burning scarlet eyes bellowed, blowing a stream of smoke and fire from its nostrils, its head turning, wide-eyed, with long adamantite blades gleaming in place of horns atop it. The skull was also partially adamantite, and plates of the same protected his powerful torso.

Sensing me, he stirred, sniffed and leaned down, his face looming over me. I went into Clarity and fired Hammerfists into the minotaur’s head between his horns — sparks flew. The boss was thick-skinned; Rindzin’s Ghostly Talon didn’t pierce the skull. The third strike hit an adamantite plate, and all the damage reflected back at me! The force of it threw me out of the gap. I regained control of my body with Flight