Blessed Time: A LitRPG Adventure by Cale Plamann

Author:Cale Plamann [Plamann, Cale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2021-08-17T07:00:00+00:00

28

Third Time’s the Charm

The spell worked. It took four tries for Micah to get the feel of the ritual and how it interacted with Temporal Transfer, but it worked. Each attempt left him sick to his stomach. The one time Micah actively wanted a new spell to not live up to expectations, it performed flawlessly.

Gheb screamed and begged Micah through his gag the entire time, but there wasn’t anything he could do. Brenden stood just outside of the circle, a summoned daemon at his back just waiting for Micah to hesitate. There was no question in Micah’s mind that any failure on his part would spell the death of his entire family. Micah’s only option was to grit his teeth and count down the days until he could use his blessing again as Gheb deflated before his eyes, the Time magic wilting him like a week-old bouquet.

The spell “only” stole a year of Gheb’s life for Martin, but that was enough for it to be declared an unqualified success. Performing the ritual and Temporal Transfer in the laboratory became Micah’s new world. Each day, Brenden would escort him to the room, where a new prisoner would be waiting. Some truly deserved to have years ripped from their lives: murderers, kidnappers, and rapists. Many were political prisoners, members of the Resistance, or even just outspoken individuals that annoyed the wrong noble.

The first month was mostly devoted to “treating” Martin, performing the spell over and over again until Martin shed his age like a used overcoat. The difficulty of the casting steadily pushed up his Spellcasting and Ritual Magic skills until Micah was able to transfer two to three years at a time.

He didn’t dare voice his suspicions, but after the third or fourth use of the ritual, it became obvious to Micah that this wasn’t about “testing” the magic. Each time, Martin looked at the prisoners with an off-putting sense of hunger, but he always insisted that the spell needed more “fine-tuning.” The spell and ritual worked fine.

Given the secrecy of the project, the way Brenden constantly prevented Micah from talking to anyone in the Royal Knights except for his family, there was only one conclusion: Martin was just trying to reclaim his youth before someone else in the Knights learned the significance of the ritual. Finally, once Martin looked to be in his early twenties, he announced the project a success.

The next day, Micah vaguely hoped for a period of rest, but once again, Brenden retrieved him from his apartment. When they walked into the laboratory, it was practically humming with tension. Martin stood in the center of a cluster of older, well-armed men, showing off his new body.

“Squire Silver,” he called out as soon as Brenden brought him into the room. “The man of the hour is here.”

Micah’s breath left his body as all six of the other men turned to look at him. Every one of them carried a palpable aura of power, a weight of energy and gravitas that demanded respect.

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