Chapter 5. The one in which Joey dies

Continuation of the Trash Taste Litrpg Audiobook, in this Chapter, Joey dies :D

Transcript

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Trash Taste a lit RPG audiobook written and narrated by me, Godwin. Chapter five The One in Which Joey Dies Joey woke face first in mud. Cold black water filled one air and something rotten clung to his cheek. I fire out, he muttered, as he pushed himself upright with a wet sucking sound. The swamps stretched endlessly in every direction. Dark water, twisted dead trees, grey mists drifting from low across the marsh. Pools of faint glowing liquid bubbled beneath islands of mud, staining the water with a sickly green. Each breath carried the taste of old coins. Joey wiped the sludge from his face. A green shimmer flickered at the edge of his vision. Environmental hazard detected. Miasma saturation moderate. Extended exposure not advised. Joey stared at the message. Fantasy radiation swamp, excellent. The memory returned in pieces after that. The station, the machine, the class selection. Connor somehow choosing monkey with complete confidence. Joey sighed. Yep, Connor's definitely dead. He pushed himself fully upright. Armour shifted itself with a muted metallic sound. Lead black plates rested over dark blue cloth bindings, reinforced along the shoulders, forearms and thighs, with lacquered segments pulled for movement. Two curved swords hung at his waist, their hilts wrapped in deep red cord. A dark travelling cloak rested over his shoulders, now streaked with swamp water and mud. The entire outfit looked absurdly cool. Class one Samurai rank copper one. Primary traits precision, agility, resolve. Path affinity detected. Joey frowned. What the hell is path affinity? The screen vanished immediately. He adjusted one of the swords experimentally. The weapon settled naturally at his side. A bubbling sound came from one of the nearby pools. Joey froze. The surface shifted. Something moved beneath it. Hello? A splash sounded somewhere behind him, then another to his left. Joey drew one of the curved blades with a smooth metallic hiss. Emotion came naturally. Okay, he muttered. Rule one of getting Isikide. Another splash closer this time. Don't die immediately. Joey slowly lowered the blade. Another bubble rose from the glowing pool beside him, then another. He waited. Nothing exploded out of the swamp to devour him. The bubbling continued lazily around the marsh. Joey turned slowly, scanning the horizon again. Bog missed dead water, and far off in one direction, higher ground. Low hills rose above the marsh like islands, tangled with dark trees whose branches curled upwards like grasping fingers, sparse leaves, black bark and pale strands of moss hanging like old cobwebs. Still, it was better than drowning in toxic sludge. Joey adjusted his swords at his waist and started walking. The swamp fought him every step of the way. Mud sucked greedily at his boots. More than once he nearly lost one entirely. Thin sheets of dark water hid sudden drops beneath the surface, plunging him knee deep into freezing filth without warning. Clouds of pale insects drifted through the mist in loose swarms, disappearing whenever he got close enough to properly see them. Time became difficult to track. The sky above the marsh never changed properly, locked in a dim grey haze that made everything feel like it was late afternoon and early evening at the same time. Eventually the ground began to rise. The bog thinned into wet earth and tangled roots, the trees ahead grew denser, though a lie felt like a generous observation. Their trunks twisted together unnaturally, bark dark as charcoal, with faint green veins pulsing slowly beneath the surface, like something breathing under skin. That was when Joey heard the birds. At least he thought they were birds. The calls drifted through the forest unevenly, thin and raspy, not singing, more like exhausted coughing shaped into bird song. Joey slowed slightly. Undead birds, I love the atmosphere. They really nail the vibe. The sound continued overhead as he climbed the first rise. Branches shifted somewhere high above him. Pale shapes moved between them. Then the forest went silent. Not gradually. Everything stopped at once. Joey froze. The pressure hit him a second later. His stomach dropped violently. Something enormous was nearby. The trees ahead shuddered, and one bent sideways, another snapped near the base with a crack like splitting stone. Then it emerged from the forest. The creature towered above the canopy, easily four meters tall. Black armor encased its entire body, each plate jagged and uneven, as though forged from volcanic rock. Dull red lights glowed between the cracks pulsing beneath the armor's surface, like magma trapped beneath a mountain. Smoke drifted from beneath its teeth. Its head sat low between massive shoulders, crowned by a pair of sweeping horns that curved backwards over its skull. The creature stopped, its head turned towards him. The pressure intensified instantly, and Joey's knees nearly gave out. Every instinct screamed at him to run, kneel hide, die quietly, anything that might stop those burning pits from settling fully on him. Then something touched him. A sensation slipped through him like an icy thread passing beneath his skin. For a single impossible moment, Joey had the feeling that the creature was looking at something inside him, searching. The pressure lingered, then it was gone. Joey staggered as a sharp ache flared briefly behind his sternum before fading as quickly as it appeared. Slowly, mechanically, Joey drew one of his swords. It was a completely meaningless gesture. The creature stared at him for several long seconds. Then it looked away. A deep growl rolled from somewhere inside his chest, frustrated, searching. It tore another tree from the ground and hurled it aside before pushing deeper through the forest, agitated movements growing more violent with each passing second. Joey simply did not matter to it. Cool, Joey whispered weakly. That somehow feels worse. Then the creature roared. The sound hit the forest like physical force. Trees shook violently, mud rippled, something screamed far off in the swamp, and Joey ran. Branches tore at his cloak as he sprinted uphill through the dead forest. Boots hammered against wet roots and loose stone. Behind him he could hear trees breaking apart one after the other, as the thing forced its way through the hills searching for whatever it had lost. Then Joey saw the cave, a narrow opening between two black stone ridges. He almost ran past it. Something about it felt blurred, hard to focus on directly. The entrance shimmered faintly. Just below the cave mouth sat a pool of miasma, unlike the others he had passed. The liquid inside it barely moved, thick, black green, its surface reflecting nothing, swallowing the weak light around it completely. Pale vapor rolled from its in slow coils, and now and then something beneath the surface shifted, just enough to disturb the skin of the pool before sinking again. Even standing several meters away, Joey felt the pressure in his teeth. Instinct screamed at him not to go near it, even though its unfortunate placement placed it directly beside the only shelter in sight. Joey stumbled towards the cave anyway, desperately overriding caution completely. The moment he crossed the threshold, the pressure outside dulled sharply. The roar of the creature became distant. The cave interior flickered once like disturbed water, and out of the darkness a massive curved blade slammed across Joey's path. At the same moment a blonde elf stepped from the shadows, with blow both swords drawn, low and ready. Joey stopped dead. The group standing before him looked barely functional. Closest stood a reptilian warrior, scales deep red beneath battered armor and dark green cloak. One of his arms ended at the elbow in a thick blood soaked bandage. Despite that he held an enormous blade in his remaining hand with unsettling steadiness. The elf beside him looked exhausted enough to collapse. Dirt and dried blood streaked her face, one eye was swollen half shut. Near the back of the cave sat an older human man wrapped in pale desert robes and layered in cloth armour. A curved sword rested across his knees, while one hand pressed tightly against a wound beneath his ribs. Blood had soaked through the bandages already. His breathing looked shallow. The fourth figure stood nearest the cave wall, thin almost to the point of skeletal. Grey skin stretched tightly across sharp features, one pale eye glowing faintly beneath a hood woven with charms and bone fragments. Both hands remained raised towards the cave entrance, fingers trembling as green symbols pulsed fatally through the air. The road figure's voice came out strained. He's let it here, the man said. It wasn't interested in me, Joey replied. Although I have a feeling I know what it was searching for now. The reptilian warrior moved without warning. Joey barely registered the impact before he hit the cave floor. He felt a knee pressing him into the dirt from behind. What the hey? Joey wheezed in the dirt. It wasn't following me, I swear. The reptilian warrior kept Joey pinned for another few seconds before finally easing the pressure slightly. Copper, level one at that, he muttered. His voice rumbled like shifting stone. He smells barely formed. I'm sitting right here, mate. The warrior ignored him completely. The blonde elf lowered one of her blades and stepped closer, studying Joey carefully. Up close she looked younger than he first thought, though exhaustion dragged heavily at her expression. Dried blood marked the edges of her sleeves. He doesn't look like one of Varkath's servants, she she said quietly. That proves very little, the man rasped from the cave wall. Her eyes stayed on Joey. He's terrified, she said, and confused. Joey considered that for a moment. Correct, on both counts, yes. The reptilian warrior finally released him and stepped back. What's your name? Joey, Joey replied. And where are you from? Earth. That name meant nothing to any of them. Joey saw it immediately. Yeah, I thought that's what that's what I thought. You expected us to know it? I don't know what I expected, Joey said. A day ago I was somewhere else, now I'm here. The cave fell silent. The reptilian's eyes widened, studying him for a moment. I am Korag, he said, shield breaker of the fifth ember cohort. He gestured towards the elf. The real, she said. She gave a small nod before immediately moving back toward the wounded older man near the fire. The skeletal caster, near the cave entrance, spoke without turning around. Veil he said. Green light pulsed faintly between the charms hanging from his sleeve as he pressed another crystal into the cave wall. The air shimmered softly each time he did it. Joey looked towards the older man sitting against the stone. And you? The cave went quieter for a moment. The older man answered. Rashad, first merchant of the Grimon Guild, he said weakly, though I suspect that title is about to become available. A faint smile tugged at Rashad's lips despite the pain. Liriel knelt behind beside him, golden light spilling from her hands as he pressed them against the blood soaked bandages beneath his ribs. The wound bled black, not blood alone, but a thick oily substance that stained the bandages and refused to stop. The blade was cursed, Korag said quietly. Every hour it spreads further. Another spell left Lyriel's hands, and the colour returned to Rashad's face for a moment. Korag shifted what remained of his left sleeve. My troubles are largely behind me, he said. Rashad's are somewhat more immediate. Rashad huffed a weak laugh. Near the cave entrance, Bail faintly lowered his hands from the concealment spell. Immediately he pressed two glowing blue crystals against his forehead and closed his eyes. The color slowly returned to his face as the crystals dimmed. Joey stared openly. Mana potions. No, Bael responded. Far more expensive. A smokeless fire burned quietly at the entrance of the cave floor. Pale blue flames danced over a black stone without consuming anything. Korag placed strips of dried meat above it while Lyrial continued to try and stabilize Rashad. The conversation eventually turned to the thing outside. What exactly is that? Joey asked quietly. Korag and Vale exchanged a glance. Finally Rashad answered Varkath. Even saying the name seemed to darken the clay cave slightly. A dread sovereign of the Ishwilds, Rashad continued. Older than most kingdoms, strong enough to erase cities when angered. And currently very angry, Baal added. Joey swallowed. Because of you? Korag reached beside him and lifted a black box rip wrapped in silver bindings. Crystals glowed faintly beneath the steam the seams, pulsing slowly. The heart of Nal Kor, he said. Even through the sealed container, Joey felt something from it, a deep vibration beneath his skin. The crystallized core of a star beast, Vale said quietly, a relic form before recorded eras. Kingdoms would wage wars for a chance to glimpse it. We stole it. We stole it from Barkath's lair three nights ago, Rashad said, his voice weaker now. The high king himself commissioned the retrieval. Joey glanced between them. Why? Vereth is dying, Baal answered. The balance that sustained the realm has been failing for decades. This, he looked at the container, was meant to restore it. Silence fell across the cave. Five gold ranked strike teams entered Varkath's domain, Roshard continued. His expression darkened. Only a handful of us left. Joey stared at the box. You risked it all for one relic? Roshard gave him a tired look. We risked it all because of what happens if we fail. Leriel suddenly slagg slightly beside Rashad. The golden light around her hands flickered weakly. Rashard looked toward her and smiled faintly. That's enough. You can still be stabilized, she said immediately. No. The word was gentle, final. The cave fell silent. Richard looked across toward Joey. You said you came from another world. Tell this old man more. Joey nodded slowly. Over the next few hours he explained everything. The invitation from Komami, the machine, the class selection, the arrival. The others listened with growing disbelief. Even Vale eventually turned fully away from the cave entrance to stare at him properly. When Joey finally finished, nobody spoke for several seconds. Rashad stared at the smokeless fire. I sense this is the work of the Oram, he murmured. Nobody spoke. A relic capable capable of a restoring Verith, four strangers fall from the sky, and one of them sitting in this cave. His eye settled on Joey. Do you believe in Providence? Joey blinked. Mate, three hours ago I didn't believe in talking lizards. Rashard laughed once and coughed. Then blood spilled from his mouth. Lirriel moved instantly, panic flashing across her face, as golden light flooded both her hands again. Rashard fell silent. Nobody spoke for a while after that. Eventually Korug passed around a pot of stew. They ate it in near silence, beside the fire while Lyriel remained at Rashad's side, feeding healing magic into a battle she could no longer win. The night stretched on. Rashad died sometime near dawn, quietly. Liriel sat beside the body for a long time, exhaust exhausted hands rest uselessly in her lap. Nobody spoke much after that. When morning came, Corrag lifted Rashad's wrapped body across his remaining shoulder. Vale rose and followed them to the cave entrance. The old mage reached into his robes and withdrew a handful of small silver crystals. Without a word, he stepped into the marsh and pressed the first into the mud, then another and another. Each crystal vanished a few moments after being placed, leaving only a faint shimmer hanging in the air. Joey watched as the mage worked his way towards the nearby miasma pool before finally returning. The path is veiled, Vale said quietly. The group followed the invisible trail from the cave entrance. They stopped beside the miasma pool. Up close it looked even worse in the daylight, and The surface barely reflected anything at all, shapes moving slowly beneath it, too deep to make out properly. Korag lowered Rishad's body carefully beside it. Why bring him here? Joey asked quietly. Lirel answered without looking up. Because he may still draw strength from it. Joey frowned. He's dead. And Verith, Baal said, Death is just a step and a longer journey. Nobody elaborated further. Corag and Lyriel slid the body into the dark surface. The pool accepted it silently. Rashad simply disappeared beneath the black green liquid. Joey felt something twist unpleasantly in his stomach as the body sank into the abyss. We must head back, Vale said. The cloaking charm will only hold her for a while longer. Korag nodded and turned toward the cave. Joey too took two steps. Then pla pain exploded through his chest. He stumbled and dropped to one knee, a strangled gasp escaping his throat. The world tilted. For a moment he was back beneath the creature's gaze. He felt it again, that cold invasive invasive sensation. Something moving through him, searching. The same impossible pressure that had bored it into his soul. Joey the reel reached him first, but Vale was already moving. The old mage dropped to one knee and pressed a hand against Joey's forehead. Silver light flashed across his eyes. For a heartbeat his expression remained calm. Then all colour drained from his face. No The word came out as little more than a whisper. What? Corrag demanded. Vale's hand snapped away from Joey's as though it was burnt. He's been marked. Joey looked up. What does that mean? Vale didn't answer immediately, but the horror in his eyes was answer enough. The beast searched his soul, the old man said quietly, and left a tether behind. A sudden chill swept through the marsh. Vale slowly turned, the others followed his gaze. For a second Joey didn't see anything. Then his stomach dropped. A massive silhouette stood atop the hill overlooking the cave. Varkath. Joey had no idea how long it had been there. It wasn't moving, it was simply watching them, smoke drifting from beneath its teeth. A dull red glow beneath its armor pulse like a heartbeat of some ancient furnace, its molten gaze settling upon Joey. And this time there was no mistaking it. It knew him. For a brief irrational moment, Joey had the unsettling impression that it looked pleased. The creature took a step forward. The hill trembled. The heart Vale breathed. The old mage's eyes widened. Joey, what? Go The dread sovereign took another step. The hill trembled. Go where? Back to the cave. Silver light erupted around Vale. The heart cannot remain here. Then the old mage moved. One moment he stood beside Joey. The next silver light exploded from his staff. Dozens of glowing sigils erupted into existence around Varkath, rotating through the air like vast celestial gears. Bolts of condensed force flick slammed into the chest, one after the other, each impact detonating with enough power to shatter stone. The beath staggered. Korag was also moving. The reptilian warrior crossed the distance with terrifying speed, bronze fire erupting along his remaining arm. He struck the creature's leg with enough force to split the hillside. The impact echoed across the marsh. The shock waves tore through the trees. The reel launched herself into the air. Golden wings of light unfolded behind her. Arrows formed around her in brilliant clusters before raining down like falling stars. Each strike punched craters through the marsh below. The heart roared Vale. Now Joey ran. He barely remembered reaching the cave. His hands fumbled with the container, the heart pulsed beneath its casing. Joey grabbed it and sprinted it back outside. The battle had somehow become even worse. Entire sections of the marsh were simply gone. The ground had been torn apart, dead trees burnt, miasma boiled. Joey stared up in stunned silence. The three gold rankers looked impossibly distant, not in height but in power, as though they belonged to an entirely different world. Veil hung above the battlefield, amidst a storm of rotating ruins. Entire constellation of arcane symbols revolved around him, each one larger than a house. With every gesture, reality bent. Lances of silver energy tore through the sky, walls of force appeared and shattered. Ancient spells Joey couldn't begin to comprehend detonated across the marsh. The real became a streak of living gold. Ribbons of light followed her movements, twisting into spears, arrows, blades before crashing into the beast like falling stars. Every impact flooded the battlefield with enough light to turn light into day. Korrag met the creature head on. The reptilian warrior no longer seemed entirely physical. Bronzed fire engulfed his body. Each step shattered the ground. Each swing of his weapon unleashed shock waves powerful enough to flatten entire sections of the forest. The creature answered in kind. Every movement of its colossal limbs carried the weight of a natural disaster. Hills collapsed, the marsh erupted, the world shook beneath its fury. Joey watched in stunned silence. Then Korag took a hit. A single sweep, sweeping claw. The reptilian raised its weapon. The impact launched him through the air, he crashed through the str stand of dead trees. Something dark spun away into the marsh. Joey realized with horror it was Korag's tail. Yet somehow the warrior rose again, still fighting, still refusing to yield. The end came moments later. Vale gathered every remaining sigil into a blazing constellation above the battlefield. Lyrial descended from the sky, wrapped in in enough golden light to rival the dawn. Korrag charged through the center. All three attacks struck together. The marsh vanished beneath the explosion. For a moment Joey couldn't see anything. Then Varkath emerged from the light, unharmed. One massive hand swept forward. Vale spell shattered, the reel was thrown from the sky, Korag disappeared beneath a wave of force. The battlefield fell silent. The three heroes were still alive, but they could not stop what came next. The creature hissed, steam and flame escaping from its mouth and nostrils as it prepared for the final blow. Vale was down, Lyriel struggled to rise. Corrag could also barely stand. Without thinking, Joey shouted Stop The word tore from his throat. The creature froze. To Joey's astonishment it actually worked. Its massive head turned slowly, deliberately, its molten gaze settled upon him. And only then did Joey realize what he was holding. The heart. A second realization followed immediately. He was standing beside the miasma pool, holding the relic directly over it. Joey felt his stomach drop. Oh that's a terrible idea. The creature took a step forward, its eyes never leaving the crystal. A second step, slower this time, cautious, like a man approaching the edge of a cliff. Joey swallowed. The horrible part was that the planet was actually working. The creature wasn't looking at Vale or Leriel or Korag, it was looking directly at the heart. And if Joey dropped it, the relic Rashard had died to recover would vanish forever. The problem was that Joey hadn't thought beyond that. Getting the monster's attention had been the entire plan. Now he had it. Well, he muttered, we're committed now. The heart pulsed. Once, pain tore through Joey's body, blood ran from his nose, then his ears, then his eyes. Silver cracks raced across his skin. The crystal was becoming impossible to hold. The heart pulsed again. Joey's vision doubled. The world tilted beneath him. He heard someone shouting his name, Baal or Laryl, maybe both. The sound seemed very far away. The crystal had become white hot, silver light spilled through the cracks racing across his skin, his fingers no longer bait him. The heart slipped. For a fraction of the second, it held suspended between his hand and the black green surface below. Varkath roared, not in rage, in panic. Then Joey fell. The heart struck the miasma first. Joey hit the water a heartbeat later. The pool swallowed them both. Silence. The battlefield froze, nothing moved. Then the pool sank. A black green surface folded inward as though something beneath it had suddenly become impossibly heavy. Water rushed towards the center, mud, roots, entire sections of the marsh. Everything was dragged downwards. The glow began deep below, a faint silver light, far beneath the surface. It spread slowly at first, then faster, like sunrise trapped underground. Vail's eyes widen. No The light intensified. The entire pool became transparent for a single impossible moment. Everyone saw it. A sphere of silver radiance expanded beneath the water, growing. Then the world jumped. The explosion never broke the surface, it remained trapped below. The marsh heaved upward, a ring of displaced earth raced outwards from the pool. Even Varkath was driven back several steps. The sound arrived a moment later, a deep rolling detonation that seemed to come from the bones of the world itself. Then everything became still. Rain fell, mud, water, broken branches. The pool remained. But it was changed. The black green surface churned violently. Something was rising slowly. A figure emerged from the depths, Joey. He drifted up through the mist, his samurai armor hang and hung in tatters. Dark miasma streamed from every edge. His hands rested at his sides. His face was expressionless. The grin that never seemed far away had vanished. His eyes had become Ibysile. Vast black depths that swallowed every glimmer of light that touched them. Nobody spoke. The pressure radiating from him spread across the battlefield like an approaching storm. Bronze. The real felt it first, then Korrag. Then everyone else. An impossible advancement. Joey continued, rising until he stood several meters above the pool. The miasma beneath him calmed. The surface became smooth as glass. A low growl echoed across the marsh. Varkath stared at him. The ancient creature lowered its head, not in defeat but acknowledgement. Jory looked at the dread sovereign. Then he spoke. His voice was quiet. Rest, Varkath. The words came effortlessly across the marsh. The dread sovereign froze. A strange stillness passed through its colossal body. The tensions left it. The desperate searching, the rage, the grief, all of it gone. Joey placed his hands against his own chest. The heart had not been destroyed. It had chosen, and it had chosen him. For the first time in countless ages, Varkas was no longer its guardian. The responsibility belonged to someone else. Far below, the black green waters of the Miasma pool reflected Joey's silhouette. The man who had fallen into those depths was dead. Nobody present doubted that. The unease came from a far more difficult question. Who was standing before them now?