Celestial Citadel: A litRPG Adventure (The Rogue Dungeon Book 6) by James Hunter & eden Hudson

Author:James Hunter & eden Hudson [Hunter, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press
Published: 2022-04-04T16:00:00+00:00

“Damnation!” Roark blinked away the text and checked his Character page.

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Roark had gained considerable Experience through the Feudal Lord’s Tax, leveling up nine times over the course of Marek’s assault on Korvo. He’d dumped all of his new Stat Points into Constitution, raising his total Health to 2,819 points and increasing his Health Regen Rate considerably. Clearly it still wasn’t enough. Marek must have leveled up out of the range of Roark’s enhanced Health Regen, which was a frightful notion. Just how powerful had Marek become over the past days and weeks and how many innocent lives had he extinguished to make such extraordinary gains?

With another curse, he slammed his grimoire closed. At the fireplace, Mac’s blue head gave an admonishing chirp at the disturbance, then lay back down.

Roark needed to grind out another level or two to get ahead of Marek and avoid the constant sapping of the Mummy’s Curse. When the Tyrant King had pulled out of Korvo, however, he’d taken what remained of his armies. Other than a few spies stationed at the mouth of the valley, whom Roark had given his own spies specific instructions not to destroy, as he would need them later, there were no enemy mobs to kill. Griff was the only trainer with a high enough qualification in Weaponry to help Roark level up his Rapier and Dagger skills, and the old man was still lost, whether in Hearthworld or the Devs’ home world he couldn’t say.

The only remaining option was to kill humans or animals, like Marek’s troops had done to gain their levels, but Roark loathed the thought of resorting to either path—the humans for obvious reasons and the animals because there were very few in Traisbin that could stand against him at his current strength. As strange as it might seem that he of all people would balk at an unfair fight, the idea of hunting down something weaker than him put him off. His father had never allowed such poor unsporting behavior on his lands.

Moreover, how much experience would such a creature even have to give?

No, that was an untenable option. But he needed to do something. Marek would only get stronger the longer this war raged.

As if the mountains themselves had heard Roark’s thoughts, the high, eerie howl of a lone maka-ronin warbled in through the study window. The call of the king of the wolves joined with the crackling of the fire in the hearth, and it was as if Roark were transported back through time and tragedy to the simplicity of childhood winters, sitting safe by his father’s knee and shivering at the cry of the wolves that roamed the mountains. And he wasn’t the only one affected. On more than one occasion, he’d seen even his older cousin Dirk fail to suppress a shudder at the ghostly sound.

Uncle Gareth, who had loved nothing more than a good fright tale, never failed to launch into the story of the time he, Roark’s father, and their brothers had nearly been killed by the great maka-ronin that ruled the Karasu Mountains.

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