The Fourth Secret: A Fantasy LitRPG Adventure (Divine Apostasy Book 4) Read online

  The Fourth Secret

  A. F. Kay

  The Fourth Secret, Divine Apostasy Book 4 by A. F. Kay

  afkauthor.com

  Copyright © 2021 by A. F. Kay

  All rights reserved. This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by United States of America copyright law or in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or articles. For permission requests, contact the publisher at blackpyramidpress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published by Black Pyramid Press, LLC

  blackpyramidpress.com

  Cover by trifbookdesign.com

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Chapter 63

  Chapter 64

  Chapter 65

  Chapter 66

  Chapter 67

  Chapter 68

  Chapter 69

  Chapter 70

  Chapter 71

  Chapter 72

  Chapter 73

  Chapter 74

  Chapter 75

  Chapter 76

  Chapter 77

  Chapter 78

  Chapter 79

  Chapter 80

  Chapter 81

  Chapter 82

  Chapter 83

  Epilogue

  Appendix

  Acknowledgments

  Special Thanks

  Author’s Note

  LitRPG Links

  LitRPG Facebook Group

  Dedication

  For Megan,

  You’re the moment my life became living

  and joy became real.

  Prologue

  Jagen approached the temple spire wearing his favorite medium armor. Created from the scales of cloud drakes, it looked like a rainbow made of diamonds. Two stone golems stood at the temple’s entrance, their bodies bathed in the red light that emanated from the roof. The scarlet glow let the people of Malth know that their god occupied the temple and made everything in the city appear covered in blood.

  Izac had summoned Jagen shortly after the city had turned red, and Jagen had immediately started toward the temple. It never paid to keep a god waiting, but Izac had been in a terrible mood since Jagen’s return, which made offending the deity even more dangerous.

  For the third time in as many minutes, a deafening boom echoed throughout the city. Izac was venting his anger on the distant mountain the people had aptly named Izac’s Wrath.

  The golems recognized Jagen as he climbed the temple steps and let him pass unharmed into the spire. The shakers had all dimmed, and the scarlet light from outside didn’t penetrate the spire, leaving the interior dark. This suited him just fine, as the darkness mirrored the awful loss he felt.

  A loss with no explanation.

  Striding down the central aisle, the Necromancers he passed didn’t stop him, not even when he climbed onto the raised dais. Two Overseers, armored in distinctive blood red scale, guarded a dark portal that hovered behind the altar.

  Jagen paused a moment to admire the armor, which he desperately wanted for his collection. The armor absorbed blood to repair itself, but only Izac’s personal guard could wear it, a rule they wouldn’t bend even for a Champion. He sighed, stepped through the portal, and exited onto the temple’s tip, two hundred feet above.

  Izac stood at the edge of the spire’s roof, looking down at the vast expanse of Malth, and the darkness of the Breathless Sea beyond it. The mountain, Izac’s Wrath, stood fifteen miles out to sea, the twenty thousand foot peak glowing in the moonlight.

  An Ink Lord hunched at the roof’s center, probably to keep himself as far from the edge as possible. Jagen had little fear of heights, but standing on a thirty-foot circle two hundred feet in the air made him cautious. A Bone Sculptor lay face down on the floor, and blood leaked from his ears.

  The fresh blood retained much of its power, and Jagen almost tapped the blood out of habit using Blood Tithe, an Overseer ability. But his Health and Mana were full, and Izac might have plans for the blood himself. It was safer to just ignore it.

  “My Lord, how may I serve?” Jagen asked.

  “This Mage failed to keep control of my sister’s lost temple,” Izac said without turning. “These are the ones responsible.”

  The glowing images of four teenagers appeared in front of Jagen. Scarves covered their faces, only leaving their eyes and hair visible.

  The tallest one looked around six feet tall, with an athletic build, and a serious face. He had short dark hair and light blue eyes. His mismatched armor looked pathetic, and only the cloak caught Jagen’s attention.

  The remaining three had lean builds, and their armor at least matched, although none of it looked very impressive. The other male wore what looked like Cultivator attire. He had brown hair, golden eyes, and no visible weapon. The woman wielding an interesting metal staff had brown eyes and blonde hair pulled into a braid. The last woman wasn’t much taller than five foot, but her fierce eyes made her seem larger. She had dark hair that brushed her shoulders, and her leather armor looked well used. Jagen spotted eight daggers just on her tunic.

  “Do you recognize any of them?” Izac asked.

  “I do not,” Jagen said.

  Like a snake sliding into a pond, Jagen felt Izac enter his mind yet again, searching for Jagen’s memories of the Spirit Realm. The violation pained and angered Jagen, but he let the emotions go. His purpose was to serve Izac, even when his Lord didn’t trust him.

  Izac turned and walked toward J
agen. “Nothing has returned?”

  Jagen bowed. “I’m sorry, my Lord, no.”

  “The dark-haired male is her newest Champion. I’ve studied the Bone Sculptor’s memories, and that boy clearly used two Classes.”

  Izac’s thorough search of the Bone Sculptor’s memories explained the body. Jagen wondered if the Mage had survived Eiru only to die here and if Jagen might be next. He knew Izac wasn’t patient and certainly didn’t care about his subject’s discomfort. Maybe Jagen would head down to the vats after leaving here and see when this Mage would revive. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to him in person.

  Izac continued. “From the descriptions of those who disappeared from Deepwell two months ago, I believe his name is Ruwen Starfield. The blonde woman is Hamma Blakrock, and the other two weren’t listed. Do those names trigger anything?”

  Even though he’d spent decades in the Spirit Realm, he remembered nothing about it. “I am sorry, no.”

  Izac stared at Jagen intently. “You were seen with Uru’s three Champions and a few others at a Cultivator match involving one of Lalquinrial’s lackeys, the Scarecrow. From my source’s descriptions, these women might have been there with you. I’m uncertain if the males were at the Spirit Realm event, but from the fight at Uru’s temple, I know they both have Step training, although I can’t tell which Clan. Is any of this helping?”

  Jagen shook his head, depressed and angry that part of his life had disappeared.

  Izac growled, turned, and punched the air. Fifteen miles away the mountain called Izac’s Wrath, shattered. Chunks of rock the size of Malth sailed into the air, and a second later a deafening boom shook the city. Izac clenched his other hand, and the broken mountain reformed, the pieces traveling in reverse. In moments, the mountain appeared whole again, as if nothing had occurred.

  Jagen shuddered at the immense display of power.

  Izac faced Jagen. “None of this makes any sense. Miranda came to that fight with hundreds of the Black Pyramid’s followers. I think she gave everyone a Wyrm Coin, including you, to conceal the actual person she wanted to pass information, or possibly misinformation, to.”

  “Did you discover what I did with my coin?” Jagen asked excitedly.

  Izac shook his head. “As the Adjudicator of the Pact, Miranda’s logs are visible to us, but they lacked critical details. I know you didn’t get a physical item, as those were listed. In fact, that’s why our librarian is here.” Izac turned to the man hunched in the middle of the platform. “What did you learn about the books the Scarecrow received?”

  Izac’s Ink Lord, one of the most powerful people in the country, flinched and kept his head pressed to the floor. The bald librarian’s robe was constructed from the tendons and muscle fiber of Gem level beasts, giving the grey-red cloth the protection of plate. Ink Lords had the most exotic armor, and Jagen hoped to add a set to his collection someday.

  “It was as you suspected, my Lord,” the librarian said. “The books, when taken together, hint at the iris portals. But, I’m confident anyone who made that correlation would have gone much further south. It is my humble opinion that the Great Wyrm purposely tried to mislead Lalquinrial’s follower, the Scarecrow.”

  Izac nodded. “That is interesting. Lalquinrial never joined our Pact and has kept himself removed from our affairs. Why would he send his Scarecrow to help my sister’s Champions in the Spirit Realm? What does he need so desperately that he risks angering the rest of us? And, most importantly, if he ferried my sister’s people out of the Spirit Realm, why would he take you as well? Is he trying to send me a message? A gift to soothe my anger for helping my sister? Was he the one who hid your memories?”

  “All excellent questions,” Jagen said. He brought up one explanation. “Maybe the Ascended aren’t able to retain memories from the Spirit Realm?”

  “That’s possible,” Izac said. “Perhaps I’ll speak to Naktos again. Failing to keep my sister’s Champions trapped in the Spirit Realm has made him quite unpopular. He may part with some of his precious knowledge to regain his standing.”

  Jagen nodded. “I would welcome some answers.”

  “As would I,” Izac said. “Which is why I’m sending you to the Infernal Realm. Lalquinrial has enemies, and they will be interested to know Miranda might share their views. Just the fact he is aiding my sister should damage his standing among the Infernal Clans. Discover the demon god’s motivation and why his Scarecrow helped my sister. We can use that to our advantage.”

  Jagen had just returned from a forced confinement in the Spirit Realm and had no desire to visit the Infernal Realm, but he knew the consequences of complaining. “As you wish, my Lord.”

  Izac looked toward the distant mountain. “My sister has never seen reason, and I fear her misguided beliefs have doomed her. The sacrifice she made to regain her third temple reveals her desperation, which makes her even more dangerous. Once she is gone, nothing will stop my plans, and even the Universe will tremble at my power.”

  Jagen remained quiet, trying to imagine a world where Izac had even more power. He could hear the tension in his Lord’s voice, and knew, just like a spring, it would eventually release. Sadness overwhelmed him, and for a moment, he envied the peace the Bone Sculptor at his feet had found, even if briefly.

  If Lalquinrial had hidden Jagen’s memories, maybe another demon could find them. He would do more than his Lord’s bidding in the Infernal Realm. He would figure out how to make himself whole again.

  Whatever the cost.

  Chapter 1

  Blapy’s blond pigtails bounced as she walked next to Ruwen, and he reminded himself this wasn’t a seven-year-old, but the most dangerous creature in the Universe. They had left New Eiru, the moonlight providing enough light to see, even in the thick pine trees. Whiskers, Ruwen’s cat summoned with his Watcher’s Ring of Travel, scouted the area ahead.

  They had spent the walk here discussing the two months Ruwen and his friends had spent in the Spirit Realm, the battle against the Bone Sculptor to retake the city, and his new Architect Role that enabled him to restore Uru’s temple. As they’d ventured farther from the city, the conversation had shifted to Fractal, Ruwen’s dungeon eight hundred miles north, and where to put the new portal.

  Blapy pointed her stuffed centipede at him. “This is as much a business decision as an aesthetic or convenience one.”

  “I don’t know how to run a business,” Ruwen said.

  “Then you should keep it simple. Three entities want to maximize their profit: Fractal, New Eiru, and adventurers.”

  “That sounds difficult.”

  Blapy nodded. “And they each want different things. Fractal wants new items, and for adventures to spend their Mana and, hopefully, die inside the dungeon. The city wants tax revenue without additional infrastructure costs, and adventures desire loot and experience.”

  Ruwen had learned in the Spirit Realm that Mana contained a perfect balance of all twelve essences, and when adventurers used their Mana, Fractal absorbed it. If the adventurer died, it resulted in an immense amount of power and resources for Fractal.

  “How does the city get its share?” Ruwen asked.

  “It benefits the most from all the shops that invariably emerge around a dungeon. You saw the small city around the Black Pyramid.”

  When Ruwen thought of the destroyed city around the Black Pyramid, the words that came to mind were vast, gigantic, or enormous, not small. He nodded.

  Blapy continued. “Your City Council will tax all those businesses. But you should tax the adventurers as well.”

  “Why? They're just here for the dungeon.”

  “Your locals won’t cause much trouble, but outsiders will drink and fight and cause problems. You’ll need extra Enforcers to patrol the streets and some sort of holding cell to keep them in until a Judge can decide their fate. All those things cost your city wages and infrastructure costs.”

  Ruwen had hoped this would all be simpler.

  Rami? Ruwen as
ked. Do you have any books that describe a system like your mom is talking about?

  The tiny Bookwyrm behind Ruwen’s right ear vibrated. Over sixty thousand.

  Ruwen rubbed his forehead. Is there any kind of basic system in there? I want to minimize the complexity.

  There’s no consensus, but a common model is for the adventurer to buy a token from the city for the level they want to start on. The higher the level, the more expensive the token.

  Thanks, Rami.

  Ruwen looked down at Blapy. “Rami says we could make people buy tokens. Would Fractal be able to understand what they mean and associate them with a level?”

  Blapy smiled. “Such a smart girl. You don’t deserve her.”

  Ruwen reached up and gently touched his right ear. “I know.”