The Calling of Wrath: A Medieval LitRPG Apocalypse

Cassandra

Year 820 | Month 5 | Day 8

After transforming, I quickly glance at a reflective surface nearby in the form of the nearby lake. And what I find is rather… surprising.

I look like some sort of demon. Or undead demon.

Pale, gray skin with two wings of bone stretching out from my back, bony talons on each of my fingers, and a skull that has no flesh on it as my face despite having flesh everywhere else. Except the wings, of course.

Huh. I actually can’t remember the last time I turned into an undead with the transformation.

Assuming I have ever even turned into an undead before, which I can’t remember if I have or not.

I turn back to the angel just to find him already flying straight towards me with a golden light coating his raised fist. And without giving me a moment to react, his fist slams into my bony face, sending me flying backwards to crash into a hill relatively far from the castle.

Unlike what I expected with that much force though, I don’t feel any pain. Even after I pop myself out of the crater I formed in the cliffside and begin flapping my wings by instinct.

And when I look down at myself, I don’t find a single injury on my person other than my armor – which I’m still wearing – being a little damaged and rapidly repairing itself.

Strange…

I raise my head again to find the angel rapidly approaching again. But this time I raise my gray fist in return and match their fist, sending them flying this time instead of me.

What is going on here?

I fly after the angel to find them horridly injured with their arm crushed inwards from my single strike. Only for said injury to rapidly heal in a mere second until there isn’t any sign of injury left other than the fading golden light that was shining from said injury.

Even the man’s golden armor repairs itself like nothing happened.

Then the man returns his gaze to me as he flies up into the air like nothing happened.

“Guess you weren’t picked at random for the job, were you?” I ask while crossing my arms and completely ignoring the rather ominous tone my voice is currently taking. Not to mention how weird it feels to talk without lips or a tongue. Since I’m apparently doing that.

The angel blinks before answering, “No, I was not.”

It makes sense that the angel with such a powerful healing power would be the one stalling me.

I grit my teeth at the thought as the two of us begin to clash over and over again. With him occasionally sending me flying without actually damaging me and me repeatedly sending him flying and destroying entire parts of his body before they’re restored.

One clash after another with the two of us gradually destroying the areas around us. But every time the man hits me, he always makes sure to hit me away from the barrier around the castle. Meanwhile he keeps purposefully hitting himself to send him away from the barrier if I ever send him that way. Causing even more damage to himself that he also heals.

After an entire hour of this passes with neither of us getting any progress on harming the other permanently, I begin to desperately search for new methods of attack. And I manage to find one to my surprise. As a wave of black Wrath energy floods out of me and begins to bring the dead around us to life.

Or to be more accurate, turning all of the dead around us into monsters with the forms of undead.

The angel doesn’t even blink as he says, “That won’t work.”

I try to raise a brow before remembering that I don’t currently have one as I retort, “You sure about that?”

That gives the angel pause. Until he realizes that I’m sending the monsters towards the barrier.

Not towards him.

Then his eyes finally widen, and he begins rushing after the monsters, slaughtering them one after another as I take advantage of his distraction to lay into him even more.

But that doesn’t result in much either.

Or at least, it doesn’t look like it does at first.

After half an hour of this though, I find the golden glow starting to diminish from his wounds a bit, making them take longer to heal.

I finally try to smirk, once again failing in the process just like I did with raising a brow. Then I double my efforts, pushing him even harder.

And harder.

And harder once more.

But it isn’t until the angel finally stops moving and smiles at me that I realize something’s wrong.

The light from the teleportation circle is growing brighter and brighter.

That’s not the part that sets warning flags off in my mind though.

What gives me chills is when one of my monsters finally touches the barrier, making it vanish in an instant to reveal that it was an illusion and not a barrier. One that somehow moved the spell circle from one location to another in my eyes.

With its current location being directly beneath me and the angel.

“It’s too late,” the angel declares as he sees me staring at the circle beneath me with shock in my gaze, “our real target was never our own people.”

Shit.

This is bad.

Where are they trying to teleport me? To their world?

To Earth?

I can’t go there. Not when their Protector wants me captured.

It would be easy for him to capture me if I was sent there.

I grit my teeth as I kneel down and slam my hands into the circle below while flooding Wrath energy down into it. Doing the only thing I can think of right now to stop it.

But all I manage to do is taint the circle, changing some of the sigils in it somehow and replacing them with red ones made from my Wrath energy.

The angel’s eyes widen in both shock and fear when he sees those symbols, but he doesn’t manage to do anything.

Because the spell circle finishes with one last flash of light before I feel myself being teleported away.

And when the light fades again, I find myself in a wasteland of ash with a dim red sun high in the sky. Along with a System Note in my vision.

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You have now left the Plane of Midgard.

Welcome to the Fallen Plane of Hell.

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