Curselock: A Cursed LITRPG Adventure

Standing by the dungeon entrance/exit wasn’t very comfortable. In addition to the blistering cold, the bright sun and reflecting snow forced everyone to squint, other than the bears of course. So the group changed venues. Spencer suggested opening a portal to Floe and Gelo’s den, but Diana had a suggestion. Still a bit hesitant about Leland’s contracts, she wished to truly see what they could do. Combat wise, of course.

After some deliberation from Leland, he agreed to this “showing” but only after Diana reminded him that Jude and Glenny dueled way back in Ruinsforth. He had purposely excluded himself from the event at the time, which now made sense to everyone. Dueling without a full arsenal of attacks was a surefire way to be coddled.

Now that the secret was out of the bag, Leland didn’t see any reason not to show off. Jude and Glenny very much liked this idea, after all he was their teammate and now that they were all together, it was important to know where one another stood.

The worm boss had already been defeated by Floe so that the group wouldn’t be assaulted standing out in the snowy open. And there was no way anyone was going to fight, and kill, Gelo’s father, the third boss, except the one previously married to him. So that left the King of the ice castle, “uncle” Everald.

Located within the graveyard of frozen worms, the ice castle appeared reflected from the outside. And with the horrid white wasteland all around it, it easily blended into the snow. Finding it wasn’t so much a challenge but an annoyance, especially on foot. Luckily for everyone, Spencer simply opened a portal directly where instructed by Floe.

Then they were outside the castle’s gates, challenging King Everald in three on three combat. This Everald was not the same one the boys encountered when they last came through, however. He was killed and reborn by the dungeon and thus had lost all of his memories. Instinct told him to submit to Floe, which allowed the rest of the group protected passage into the castle. There would be a battle, but only for Leland, Glenny, and Jude.

In the sandy arena, the moose monster Everald stood flanked by a wraith and a Frigid Hordeling, the same two monsters the King previously chose to duel the boys.

“At least he’s consistent,” Leland muttered, standing before the monstrous specter that had almost killed him just a few months ago.

The wraith didn’t have a face, only a dark shadow where a head should have been within a tattered cloak. Rotting hands and visible cold reached out of the black fabric, along with a hand sickle draped in white mist. It floated silently above the ground, waiting for the battle’s start.

Glenny stood before a bipedal monster that rested on its knuckles. The hordeling drooled at the mouth, two thick fangs protruding upward from its bottom jaw.

Jude faced King Everald himself, the mighty moose the size of a caravan wagon, bound horse and all. Two antlers rounded out his pure white fur, each splitting off in branches like a young tree.

“You three will never pass!” the moose screeched, sending the crowd into a frenzy. He then went into a long winded speech about protecting this castle from external threats for centuries. Everyone tuned him out.

Around the pit arena, stands of monsters sat beside perplexed humans. The parents of the human fighters eyed their monstrous neighbors somewhat hesitantly, each ready for attack. Dungeons sometimes had weird rules, but seeing a yeti roar in excitement and not charge was among the top of the weird list for them. Even more so was the fact that some monsters were clapping or whistling.

“They will be fine, right?” Lucia asked.

The question wasn’t so much about their safety and more that she was asking for permission to relax and enjoy the battle… as strange as it was. She, and everyone else, were under no illusions that if something happened, the boys wouldn’t be in danger. Not with all the power in the stands. But all these monsters would be dead in mere moments if any of the parents put their minds to it. Well, except for Carmon, that was. And of course Gelo.

“They won before!” Gelo answered, her voice like a young girl’s. She was at the edge of her seat and huddled up beside her mother, her eyes glued to the battle.

“But weren’t they almost defeated?” Diana asked, her voice raspy. “Jude told us about it. He was pierced by the moose’s antlers and had to be put in stasis until he healed.”

Her husband, Roy, chuckled, his long bushy beard jostling like a pendulum. “I doubt that will happen again. Our boy has been training every day with me, Spencer, and even Floe!”

“What about Glenny?” Carmon asked from a mostly prone position. He had only just woken up, but there was no way he was going to miss seeing his son fight.

“Glenny was right there with Jude,” Roy said, pulling Diana into the crook of his arm. “Even managed to make a few echoes.”

Carmon didn’t respond but he did exhale in surprise. Glenny had struggled with that particular blade dance previously.

“And Leland?” Lucia asked the open air.

The other parents didn’t answer, they just waited. Isobel groaned from a few rows of seats back. “Guess I need to socialize,” she muttered, moving to sit closer.

They all glanced at her, Lucia and Spencer more than the others.

“He’s strong. Far stronger than I was at his age, although that’s not saying much.” Isobel deliberated for a moment. “He’s stronger than any of you at his age, as well.”

“How do you know how strong we were?” Spencer asked.

“I don’t. But your kid is abnormal. And it’s not just those contracts acting as a crutch. He didn’t once hesitate to go into battle, not when the princess was in danger. Each fight he learned and each fight he fought at a detriment.”

“Detriment how?”

Isobel smirked. “He fought using one spell for most of them.”

“One spell?” Lucia scoffed. “No mage in their right mind would limit themselves like that.”

“Leland’s not a mage.”

Everyone turned to look at her. Spencer and Lucia were about to question her, but a booming voice they had been ignoring up until that point caught their attention.

“Start!” King Everald yelled.

Back in the stands, Isobel whispered, “Just watch. He won’t have a scratch on him.”

In the sand pit, Glenny made the opening move, turning invisible and rushing forward. His target charged as well, but more in a dull rampage than with any strategy. They met head on, crimson daggers and sharp teeth flaring.

Jude likewise rushed into battle. He leaped through the air, battle axe held up and back. Frost came to his call, enchanting all of his abilities with that of bone splintering cold. He landed beside the moose mid swing, cleaving into the monster’s white fur and drawing blood. Silhouetting his movements, an ethereal bear swung with him, carving deep with its massive claws.

Leland, in contrast, stood still. Before him the wraith watched him but he hardly cared about the monster. Instead he focused on his grimoire, slowly flipping through and reading each page.

Then the wraith began to float forward, a misty gust of cold rushing with its movement— It froze, stopping dead in its chilly tracks.

From across the arena, Leland glanced up and glared at it.

Monster or not, the wraith did not like his look. Disinterest, boredom, annoyance. Instinct told it not to engage, to run and preserve itself. The overarching will of the dungeon told it to attack. So it did. And as it did, it was reminded of the true guardian of the dungeon. The one that could even make King Everald submit.

From the stands, Spencer and Lucia saw their son frown at the wraith, press his hand into two separate pages in his tome, then wait. Speaking from experience, both knew what wraiths were capable of. Small scale teleportation, assassinations, and haunted cold magic. But they also knew their son knew, so they were left hesitant.

“Don’t interfere,” Isobel said, reading their worried faces. “He knows what he’s doing.”

“And what is that?” Lucia asked, her tone more than rude.

“Finding the best way to kill the thing in the least amount of moves possible. I’m going to guess three. Yeah, three steps sounds good.”

Spencer scoffed. “Three steps? What does that—”

Below the wraith finally attacked. White mist consumed it before fading away, leaving the place the monster had been empty. A guttural shriek ripped through the arena at the same time the mist reappeared. A rotting arm whipped out with deadly cold and brutal accuracy. Sickle in hand, the wraith sliced.

Leland took a single step back, the motion exploding from his feet like lightning during a storm. For but that single step, he blurred, dodging the attack by yards. Then he whispered a string of words, summoning forth a ring of purple fire.

Gloom and despair clawed themselves out of the ground in the way of a soul of the Damned. Dripping ethereal green ichor and reeling with desire, the soul ignored the gasps from the crowd and resolved itself for its singular purpose. To take.

The wraith, within the ring of fire, tried to flee. It flew, hovering just above the ground, away. The fire kept it within the circle, peeling at what remained of its skin like a knife to an apple. For a moment it looked at Leland, only finding calculated intrigue. It screeched, a roar of cold rolling out of the darkness of its cowl. The cold wrapped around it, pulling it into its magical domain. It tried to teleport. It failed, the violet flames like a stone prison.

Soon its soul laid bare, and the soul of the Damned took, retreating into the ground and presenting the prize to its master.

With the wraith’s lost soul in hand, the soul of the Damned along with the circle of fire disappeared, each having done their job well. Leland muttered “thanks” to his summoned before turning his attention to his tattoo.

In the crowd, Isobel said, “That’s one.”

With a spring, Lodestar appeared in Leland’s hands at the same time two midnight feathered wings ripped through the air on his back. He flapped once, sailing into the open air above the arena.

Isobel cursed, causing both Lucia and Spencer to jolt. “What!?” they both asked at the same time.

“He’s cheating,” Isobel said with a bit of a laugh. “I guess the battle is going to be over in one step, after all.”

All of the other adults looked at her coldly. Except for Gelo. The little cub wondered why anyone would want to fly. Staying on the ground seemed much safer.

“Fracture,” Leland said, pushing the spell through Lodestar.

A crack sounded.

“Fracture.”

Another crack.

Leland squinted at his target, the hordeling Glenny was fighting. While he had some experience using Lodestar to augment his attacks, Leland wasn’t fully sure what potency soul damage wielded.. The scythe could harm even Isobel, but he wasn’t sure if that damage was amplified against weaker enemies, like how attack spells would work.

So when the hordeling yelped in pain and abruptly jumped to the side, he concluded a Lodestar-impowered Fracture did a lot more damage than a simple Fracture.

Glenny capitalized, stabbing the beast with both daggers. A heartbeat later, an echo of his attack reverberated through the air, and stabbed out as well. The hordeling fell limp.

Moving on to King Everald, Leland gathered mana and lifeforce and pushed it into Lodestar at the same time he said, “Maul.”

Empowering his crows was much more visible. Before, the ethereal birds took on a gentle blue-purple hue and looked like normal crows, albeit a bit larger. Now, a spark of emerald hung inside their glowing forms, where their hearts would be if they were alive. Their feathers turned dark and matte, black with violet after tones.

They were obviously summoned creatures, but if glanced upon at night, Leland could see someone being confused.

They rushed through the air, flocking to the moose. Pecking and clawing, they pestered the castle’s King while Jude, and eventually Glenny, attacked. Uncle Everald died within a few seconds, his soul in tatters from the crows’ attacks.

Leland surveyed the battle from overhead, his crow wings keeping him high in the air. He smiled, glad he and the others had grown significantly since the last time they all fought together. He landed and was quickly assaulted with questions from Jude and Glenny. Wings and lightning steps? They needed to know more!

The crowd of monsters had gone silent, each accepting their leader’s defeat with grace. They slowly filed out of the arena, exiting without attacking.

Isobel smirked, finding Lucia and Spencer’s blank stare the most entertaining part of the battle. “One step and some flying. But he could have done it without flying, he obviously didn’t need to. But knowing him, he probably did it just to show off.”

A bubble of something ugly formed in Lucia’s stomach. She snarled, “What do you know about our son!?”

Isobel didn’t take the bait. Maybe two weeks ago she would have, but not today. Not after everything that had happened. “I know he’s a good kid. Smart, loyal, strong. You raised him right.”

Lucia waited for some snarky comment. It never came. Instead she silently watched her son, finding that bubble in her stomach bursting into something more prideful.

Roy and Diana were talking among themselves with Floe about Jude. Carmon was eyeing Glenny with as much of a smile as he could muster. Spencer, meanwhile, was frowning.

He turned to Isobel, asking, “If our son is not a mage, what is he?”

She smirked. “Something better.”