Runeblade: A Delving LitRPG Survival Adventure

The Butcher's cleaver followed its terminal arc, wounded arm unable to control the momentum of the monstrous weapon with as much ease as it had before. The wild swing left it open. Kaius was remiss to let the opportunity go to waste. Every second was another that his afflictions would continue to weaken him.

Stepping forwards, he brought his sword down in a heavy overhead strike. The Butcher lashed out with its free hand, trying to ward off his strike. It was successful, partially at least. Knocked off centre, his blade bit deep into its clavicle with a spray of rotten black blood.

The undead howled, infuriated by the injury. It lashed out with its fist. Trying to leverage its size and strength to crush him. Kaius flicked his sword, biting deep into the Butcher's forearm as he turned the blow, grating against the bone. He didn't fully escape unscathed, his wounded arm surging with agony from the force of the collision.

A hiss escaping his throat, Kaius disengaged.

His Health had already sealed his cuts, but whatever the undead's skill-enhanced cleaver had inflicted him with was fighting against the purifying energy, forcing a constant expenditure to keep the wounds closed. Something he couldn't afford, he barely had a pittance with the cap on his Endurance.

Drawing in another great breath, the Champion released another fearsome roar. This time the ability washed over him as pure, hateful, noise. Rapid Adaptation working quickly to rebuke the power before it could get its hooks into him

**Ding! You have resisted Fear: Call of Consumption**

Kaius moved through the wall of sound, swiftly engaging the creature while it was enraptured in the execution of its natural magics. He needed to cripple the beast. Slow it down.

He needed to go for its legs.

Before it could snap its jaws shut, he lunged. The tip of his sword lanced straight the thick rope of muscle above its knee. He withdrew and disengaged, watching as its leg buckled slightly under its prodigious weight. The Champions roar petered out with a squeal of pain and anger.

It lunged, trying to sever him at the waist. The blow was still fast, still backed up by monstrous strength, but it was slower. More manageable. He watched the heavy blade waver slightly as damaged muscles failed to work as they should.

He saw an opening, his skill twinging.

Side stepping the swing, he cut. His blade deepened the cut on the Butcher’s shoulder, parting flesh to grate against bone. He dragged the cut, stepping through to lengthen the incision and wrap it around the meat of the joint.

**Ding! Sense Weakness has reached level 20!**

Kaius ignored the notification, all his attention focused on the battle.

The ruined remnants of its shoulder tore and the Butcher's swing collapsed, arm slapping weakly against its chest before dropping to its side. The massive iron cleaver clattered against the ground, the Champion no longer able to lift its arm effectively despite keeping a firm grip on its weapon. With a howl of frustration it swung at him with its free arm, stumbling slightly on its wounded leg.

Kaius turned the strike with the edge of his blade, allowing the undead's own strength to carry through the cut. Biting deep into its forearm.

He danced back to disengage, watching the Champion's fingers on its grow lax. He must have severed the ligaments.

Rapid Adaptation surged, finally stalling the creeping affliction in his veins. Getting its measure and stopping it dead. Slowly it pushed back, consuming and destroying the corruption hairsbreadth by hairsbreadth.

Finally, Finally, the battle had turned in his favour

Kaius turned his attention to his resources, more than aware that the corruption instilled by the Butcher’s contagion had wreaked havoc on his Health, forcing the energy to expend itself to ward off its deleterious effects.

Resources:

Health - 48/200 (2/min)

Stamina - 109/200 (2/min)

Mana - 120/120 (2/min)

His eyes widened, shocked at how low it had gotten. It was well and truly a race now. With how quickly the Blood Rot had drained his pool of regenerative energy, it would wreak havoc on his body as soon as his Health ran out. He could only hope that Rapid Adaptation would be able to purge the disease before that happened.

The Butcher scowled at him, thick hairless brows scrunching over its unnatural black eyes.

“Gonna. Eat. You.” It ground out, straining as if each word was a challenge.

The Champion lurched towards him, decidedly slower on its wounded leg. Kaius slipped around a clumsy swing of its cleaver, the undead leaning into the momentum of its body to attack. He cut into the calf of its uninjured leg as he pressed an opening in its guard. More black blood joined the growing pool covering the stone floor.

The Butcher was unfazed.

“Gonna. Flay. You.”

Throwing its whole weight into a heaving swing, the undead's weakened leg slipped on the blood slickened stone. It stumbled. Kaius darted in, ducking under an outstretched arm poised to pull him into a deadly embrace. As he passed he sliced with his sword, severing its hamstring.

The Champion fell. It tried to push itself up, only for its leg to buckle under its weight, returning it once more to the cold stone.

“Crack. Your. Bones. Drink. Your. Marrow.” It hissed, staring at him in open hatred.

Kaius watched the creature, face twisted with rage at the sick fantasies it had lost itself in. Abandoning its cleaver, it hauled its bulk forward on wounded arms, lame legs kicking weakly in an attempt to assist the movement. It didn't try to flee, lost in its own mindless hunger.

“Split. Your. Skull. Mash. Your. Brain. Tear. Your. Veins. Drink. Your. Blood. FEED! ME!” It wailed in impotent starvation.

“Just fucking DIE!” Kaius screamed, the exertion making him feel light headed.

**Ding! Rapid Adaptation has reached level 13!**

The notification flashed through his mind, joined by the sensation of his skill bolstering, burning out his infection with renewed vigour. It was almost there, close enough that he knew he would purge the effects of the Champion's skill before the last vapours of his health dissipated.

It didn't make the process comfortable. He could still feel the noxious power curdling in his veins, a feverish red heat radiating from the site of his almost-healed wounds. Breaths came heavier than they should, and his limbs felt leaden. Each swing, every parry and dodge, drained him. Made his vision close it, like he had run a dozen miles without stamina.

He shook off the cloying lethargy, squaring his stance against the crawling Champion that left a trail of black in its wake.

“Meat.” it said, staring into his eyes.

Kaius took a steadying breath and walked towards the Butcher, careful to keep the point of his sword trained on the monster.

The Champion came closer. Closer still.

Close enough.

Kaius threw himself into a lunge, his battle cry echoing through the cave as he dived into a fencer's thrust.

The Butcher heaved itself forward, uncaring of the sliver of steel that raced for its head. Its hand lashed out with a speed that could only come from a final, desperate, attack. Shocked, Kaius only had a moment to register the suicidal attack before one of its meaty paws clenched around his leading leg.

Bones shattered.

Inscribed steel slipped cleanly through boil ridden flesh and mutated bone.

**Ding! You have slain a Champion: The Hungry Butcher - level 21 Miasmic Slaughterer! **

Kaius collapsed with a scream, his calf slipping from the undead's slacked fingers and folded. Shards of bone cut through his flesh, agony setting its grip on his throat. He gasped

Noxious impulse surged through his nerves, hammering into him with an overwhelming cacophony of sensation. The pain seemed to concentrate on his eyes and ears, narrowing his senses until all he could see was a thin pinprick of hazy grey accompanied by a high pitched whine.

He collapsed on his back, chest heaving as he tried to suck in air. His vision blurred further, tears welling in his eyes.

The final vapours of his Health burned free, trying to set what it could of his shattered shin bone. It brought momentary relief from the initial stab of agony that accompanied an unexpected wound.

A relief quickly followed by a terror filled realisation.

“The Blood Rot!”

His attention dove inwards as he pushed himself up onto his elbows with a start. He relied on the innate awareness that every thinking creature had of its soul space to search his body for the Champion’s magical disease.

He found nothing.

Rapid Adaptation had cleared the inflection.

Kaius slumped back down with a sigh of relief, yelping as his jostling moved his still shattered leg. He looked at the twisted limb and winced. While he could just leave it to heal on its own, at least partially setting the break would drastically reduce the amount of Health required to recover.

Eyes drifting past his ruined leg, his attention settled on the limp form of the champion. His sword was still stuck fast in its head. A growing pool of black blood seeped forth from the corpse. He needed his sword. Injured as he was, he was fucked if something came across him in this state and he had no way of defending himself.

Kaius growled, staring at his weapon.

“This is going to suck.” He sighed. “Nothing for it, I suppose.”

Balling up the hem of his tunic with resignation, he pulled on the material until he could comfortably bite down on the wad of fabric and leather. A few sharp breaths to steady his nerves, and he shoved himself upright. A hoarse yell escaped him as the movement shifted his leg.

Refusing to give up the momentum, he gasped and snatched the handle of his sword, falling back to the floor to pull the blade with him. It slipped free with a wet squelch, clattering loudly onto the stone floor beside him.

“Just a little more, you can do this.” He thought.

He pulled himself up into a seated position and shuffled backwards, biting his wadded tunic so hard he half expected to hear the crack of a breaking tooth. Finger-length by agonising finger-length he hauled himself away from the growing puddle of blood that expanded from the Butcher's corpse.

Once he had made it a couple of long-strides away, Kaius collapsed back down with tears streaking down his cheeks. He let go of his sword, preparing himself for what he had to do next.

He sat back up, staring at his twisted leg with dread. He reached out towards it, before freezing half way. A frustrated growl was dampened by the fabric in his mouth.

“Last bit. Then you're done.”

A sharp breath brought him focus and he lunged towards his foot, twisting it back into position. A half strangled scream sounded in his ears as if from a great distance, agony coursing up through his leg and shorting out his mind. Kaius collapsed back down with a whimper.

He spat out his tunic.

“Fuck. Me.” He ground out, panting between words.

Despite the agony, he couldn't help the low rumbling chuckle that started from deep within his chest. Even if he did wince every time the movement jostled his slowly healing break.

He had no right to have come out on top. The bastard even had a class! What the fuck was that!? He’d never heard of Champions in his life!

He’d killed it. Killed something with a class, something that was supposed to be as close to impossible as you could get, the advantage of stats and skills too high to overcome. Oh sure, he knew that the Guardian he was eventually doomed to face would have one, and would be exponentially harder than this battle. However, he had only planned on that with all of his skills in place. Even then! Even then he had mostly planned on waiting until he had his own.

Yet here he was. Broken. Bleeding. But well and truly alive. After facing something with a class.

“Unbelievable.” he whispered.

The encounter had shown him something. That the Depths held hidden dangers far beyond what he was taught. For the first time in his life, Kaius felt dissatisfied with Father’s traditional methods. Sure, if all had gone as expected, he would have never in a million years stepped anywhere close to the Depths before his father had given him sufficient lessons on its hazards.

Lessons that were supposed to happen in the final months before his class selection, with practical training following it.

Yet here he was, nearly two years early. Of all people. Of all people! Father should have known to plan for the unexpected. Or was it a simple coincidence that they lived deep in the forest, weeks' journey from the closest small frontier villages? While having a perfect set of legacy skills?

Kaius snorted at the thought. Father had always been cagey, but he supposed the knowledge of exactly what had happened to their dynasty was another lesson that had been left until he was older.

It hurt to think of his father's failings, after all he had done for him, but it was just so frustrating to think how different his approach would have been if he had known that Champions existed.

For one, he probably would have waited until he had merged his fourth skill. He might not have gotten so injured with Adamant Body.

Kaius’s eyes widened suddenly. His skills! He’d levelled Sense Weakness! He was finally ready to merge the skills!

A wide smile split his face. He couldn't do it here of course. It required a centred mind and a period of meditation in his soul space to feel how all the pieces flowed together. Something he felt very little confidence in doing here. For one, it would be impossible to do while dealing with a broken leg. He was also a little worried about beasts coming to investigate the blood and noise.

No, it would need to wait until he was in the relative safety of his base camp.

He also had something a little more pressing on his mind, other than healing his leg. Kaius turned his head, twinkling eyes landing on the stout stone building that sat to the right of the lodge proper.

“Loot.”