The Demonic Games (Disgardium Book #7): LitRPG Series by Dan Sugralinov (e book reader free .TXT) 📕

contestant, nothing for someone weaker. Obviously there’s no sense at all in trying to attack higher-level players. They’ll take it personal and then not let you out of the graveyard until all your lives are gone.

In the meantime, Meister had crouched down and started throwing out equipment at his feet:

“Come down, young man. We have a thing or two for you.”

I landed. Still unloading gear, the gnome continued:

“What do we have here… Take your pick: leather trousers, a jacket, boots, armguards and shoulderguards, mail belt and gloves. Rings, bracelets and earrings for strength and endurance…” wheezing, the old man pulled something from his inventory and offered it to me: “This item is dear to me, young man. An epic necklace of my own creation. It has no special effects, but it gives noticeable bonuses to physical characteristics.”

“Keep in mind, partner, we have only one of these for the whole raid, and we’re giving it to you,” Roman noted in dissatisfaction. “Meister spent our only Demonic Soulshard on it. It drops only from bosses, and even then it’s a low chance!”

“Don’t mention it,” the jeweler said, although it was clear by his voice that he was making a sacrifice. “Do you need any weaponry?”

“Thanks,” I answered, shaking my head and beating my fist into my palm. The gesture took a couple of seconds thanks to Sloth’s Blessing. “No.”

I started to stretch out my hand to take the necklace. The idiotic debuff made the motion painfully slow, and Meister, still holding the necklace, urged me on in annoyance:

“Come on, Scyth, you can be more decisive than that!”

“I think he’s being as decisive as he can be,” Bloomer chuckled. “Don’t forget, Scyth has a new patron saint! The sloth!”

I finally took the epic from Meister’s hands and studied its properties. It was called Demonic Necklace of Hatred and it added on average at least fifty points to strength, stamina, agility and perception, and a little to attack speed and critical strike chance. In big Dis, Crawler would have sent a find like this to the auction house or given it to one of the mining foremen, but here and now the necklace really was a treasure.

I put it on, noticing with satisfaction that my health tripled, and only then did I see the previously hidden side-effect:

Enemy of the Inferno

 

You are wearing a Demonic-class item, created with a soulshard from a higher demon. For all creatures of the Inferno, you will always be the most hated target. Removing this item does not remove the mark.

“Now you’re a tank who can hold perfect aggro,” Meister laughed, studying my reaction.

“You knew?” I asked, not particularly upset.

“This is my sixth time in the Games, young man. I learned the recipe back in the first. Of course I knew. You don’t mind, do you?”

Remembering my surprise for Meister, who didn’t yet suspect that he would have to pray to the Sleeping Gods and lose the blessing of the other gods, I laughed:

“Not at all…”

Equipping the gifted armor, I missed the moment when the sounds from outside began to mix in with the diverse hubbub of the hundred or so voices from my allies: portals snapped open, tearing through space, magical attacks flared up, there were screams and groans.

“The Desters are here!” the engineer Joker shouted. It took me a moment to realized he was referring to Destiny’s raid.

The gnome, who was set up not far away, started to rotate his turret, but wasn’t fast enough. Riker the rogue appeared behind him and sliced his back into bloody ribbons. Smoothie appeared out of Invisibility in front of me.

“Did you think it was all over, boy?” The question came at the same time as a cast web. “We’re only just getting started!”

Reflexively flying away, I realized what she meant: Smoothie had left a beacon, and now warriors were coming out of it from three portals, not just Destiny’s, but Marcus’s too. That was what they were talking about yesterday! Our enemies were fewer in number than Meister’s people, but far superior in strength and combat capabilities.

The thought flashed up and disappeared, leaving only adrenaline coursing through the veins of my real body. My allies hid me from the main bulk of enemies, but I had to deal with the ones nearby: Smoothie, Riker and four more rogues, attacking us from behind. They hurried to finish off their targets instead of me, and I realized why when one was about to move toward me, and another, the saboteur Enigma, reminded him:

“Don’t touch him! Save him for Des!”

The damn slow from Sloth’s Blessing made me an easy target, but left an ace up my sleeve. A weak one, but no less unpleasant for Smoothie. In the time since the battle, I had restored enough spirit points for the self-guiding spiderweb to hit me only after I reached the mage girl to deliver a single blow. Thanks to my equipment, my strength was multiplied severalfold, and my Crushing Hammerfist killed Smoothie in one. The mage girl lost her second level that morning. My battle was only just starting.

A gap appeared in the crowd of contestants and Marcus the bruiser rolled through it like a huge boulder. Bloomer moved to block his path. The poet waved two curved sabers, but the orc sent him back to the graveyard with one monstrous strike.

“Get the net off him!” Roman the troll curser roared, gesturing at me, but his words went unheard.

He managed to fire some curse off at Marcus, but the bruiser withstood it, swayed and just waved his huge stone club. That simple movement hammered the troll into the soil like a nail. The minotaur’s hoof finished off the writhing curser.

Behind Marcus’s back, his raid, united with Destiny’s players, were crushing the craftspeople and artists of Meister’s group. They were resisting, of course,