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Lords of Dragon Keep [A humorous Isekai LitRPG]
Book Three - Chapter Eleven - How do you talk to an angel?

Book Three - Chapter Eleven - How do you talk to an angel?

"Great," I said, surveying the featureless white void around me. "I've accidentally clipped outside the map."

Intellectually, I knew I wasn't inside a video game. As much as the powers I wielded were like those I used to program into characters, the fact was that the Southern Kingdoms were as real as Earth. It was just that Perun, or Perun's ghost, was something that really loved Dungeons and Dragons as well as the rules for its magic.

Okay, it sounded stupid when explained that way.

Still, I couldn't help but feel a mild panic as I found myself surrounded by nothingness. I immediately tried to fast travel back to my original location then retried Dragon Keep.

Nothing.

Crap.

The prospect of dying here in the middle of an empty nothingness wasn't a great one. Would I need food, water, or sleep here? Did demigods? I'd never actually bothered to go without any of them and it wasn't like my condition had come with an instruction manual. Indeed, it was possible I might end up imprisoned here all time.

Sanity might be the first thing I lost.

I ended up sitting down with my arms around my knees, staring into my surroundings while retreating into my consciousness. I played the Star Wars movies over in my head and grew a beard as loneliness and isolation consumed me. Time lost all meaning, and I became a broken wreck of my previous self.

That was when I hallucinated Thistle in front of me. Thistle was a beautiful but harsh Dark Moon elf who had a distinctly punk look to her features with facial tattoos as well as multiple piercings. This version of her was more like a heavy metal album cover than punk, though, as she was wearing metal armor with, uh, exaggerated proportions and missing pieces that showed off her curves. Oh and she also had a pair of black wings as well as a flaming sword.

I stared at her. "I admit, you were not who I expected to see first when I lost all touch with reality."

"Aaron--" Thistle started to speak.

"I suspect it's guilt talking," I said, shaking my head. "After all, while you were trying to murder me in order to take my blood, I was letting you. Which is cheating on Ania. Except, well, she didn't believe we were exclusive and you were brainwashing me."

"Aaron--"

"You are a bad person," I said, shaking my head. "I don't care if I did brainwash you. I'm pretty sure if you weren't elvish Joan Jett, I would have killed you. Killed you!"

Thistle stared. "Are you finished?"

"Begone spirit!" I said, getting up and waving my hands in the air. "This is my mind, and you have no power here! If I'm going to hallucinate anyone, it'd be Ania! That or Mary Jane Watson Parker and Felicia Hardy. Probably played by the Zoryas because I admit, they've kind of buried themselves in my brain."

Thistle pinched the bridge of her nose as if trying to stave off a migraine. "Oh, for the love of you. Aaron--"

"I said, begone!" I shouted.

Thistle slapped me across the face with her free hand.

I blinked. "Oh, you're actually here."

"Yes," Thistle said.

"Ah," I said, rebooting my brain. "How many years have I been trapped in this snow-colored purgatory?"

"Twenty minutes," Thistle said.

I paused. "Wow, I would not make it in prison."

"Probably not," Thistle replied. "You are in Skyrealm."

"Skyrealm?" I asked.

"It is the home of the gods," Thistle said. "It is not the afterlife of mortals, which is under the domain of Veles for both the good and the evil but a place where Perun once held dominion."

"Uh huh," I said, pausing. "Gotcha. Like Olympus or Asgard."

"Or Skyrealm," Thistle said, unhappy. "This is your section of it."

I took a moment to look around the void before turning back to her. "I'm going to be honest, I think we need to make an IKEA run."

"Aaron--"

"Seriously, I know I probably got this unfurnished but they could have at least installed a bathroom." I waved my hand absently in a random direction.

A strange "ker thunk" noise happened and a port-a-potty fell out of the sky before landing right in front of me.

"Huh," I said, staring. "So, what, I can mod this zone like Fallout 4?"

"I don't know what that is," Thistle said.

"Creation Kit rules!" I said, concentrating and creating a reproduction of my fortress from the Dark Undermaster 3 DLC. It was an enormous stone castle that was surrounded by the Lake of Despair and had numerous crafting stations. It wasn't quite as cool as Dragon Keep but I'd added my electricity and a hydroelectric dam from the Mothership Zetan mod.

Thistle sighed. "I am going to have to interrupt you again, aren't I?"

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"Quiet, modding," I said, transforming the empty void into a masterwork of nerd construction. "I think the neon signs should go over here..."

"Perun wants to speak with you," Thistle finally said.

I'd already conjured a backdrop of a verdant rural environment with a Sun, mountains, and babbling brook nearby the crumbling fort. Why was the fort crumbling? Because it looked cool. However, the mention of Perun's name immediately deflated me from my sudden outburst of energy.

I sighed. "That guy is awfully active for someone who is meant to be dead, dead."

"You have weakened Veles enough that his brother is capable of manifesting,"

Thistle replied. "He is only able to manifest here in your soul, though."

"My what now?" I asked, turning my head to her.

Thistle sighed. "Imagine you're ripping off He Who Fights with Monsters."

"You read that?" I asked.

"I have been trapped in your unconscious with no one but a talking horse for months," Thistle said. "I am now familiar with all of your pop culture, childhood, and masturbation fantasies."

I stared at her. "Never share that thing with Agata. In my defense, I once woke up with her naked in my bed. That puts thoughts on your head."

Thistle stared at me. "Do you want me to assume her form?"

I blinked. "What? No!"

"It is your prerogative as my god," Thistle said.

"Way to make this even creepier," I said. "Wait, did you say a talking horse?"

"If that's your preference, I may have chosen the wrong god," Thistle said, crossing her arms.

I narrowed my eyes. "No, I'm saying, is Stompy back? Can I talk to him?"

"Yes," Thistle said, sighing.

With that, there was a crack of thunder and a cloud of black smoke before I saw the return of my beloved steed. Stompy was a demon steed, a nightmare if you played D&D, and a beautiful example of a stallion but as removed from mortal breeds as succubi were from women. He had glowing red eyes and a set of black leather wings that were new.

I opened my arms and tried to hug him. "Stompy, I am so glad to see you."

Stompy took a few steps backward. "Just because I died to save you doesn't mean we're in the hugging territory, Lord Aaron."

"I'm not a lord," I said.

"You're a god," Stompy said. "That means that you're a lord. Perhaps the least god of the pantheons of Mokosh but a god, nevertheless."

It was a conversation point that made me uncomfortable. So, I turned to Thistle. "You say that Perun wants to speak with me?"

"Yes," Thistle said. "He will appear when you will it."

"Well, I will it," I said. "Also, is my unconscious making you dress like Rob Liefeld dressed you? If so, I apologize."

Before Thistle could make a response, there was a crash of thunder and a flash of lightning before a two-story tall giant bare-chested man appeared. He was wearing a loin cloth and a helmet that sported the stereotypical horns that no Viking helmet had ever actually possessed in real life. In one hand, was a maul that was like a cinderblock on a metal pole. It fit into his hand like he was holding a hammer for pounding nails.

He was a tanned blonde man with a thick beard. "Immigrant's Song" by Led Zeppelin played in the background with his appearance, which highlighted that there was no situation too dire in the world that you couldn't make it ridiculous.

"Perun," I said, looking up. "Nice to see you again.

"Sup!" Perun said, saluting me with his maul. "I've been following your activities. Honestly, I have notes."

"Uh huh," I said. "I'm kind of on a time crunch here, Perun. The other gods also want me to kill the Witch Queen."

"Yeah, good luck with that," Perun said. "Honestly, I think you've been kind of dragging your feet. Trying too hard to level up to be able to defeat Veles. Level grinding. Maxing out your crafting. Really, it shows signs that you're not willing to take the risks necessary to get the job done."

I stared. "I'm sorry, call me crazy, but I thought the goal of this mission was to win. So I want to maximize my chances."

"Bah!" Perun said, dismissively. "There's no chance you'll ever be powerful enough to defeat Veles on your own so it's really just how suicidally brave you want to be when you assault him."

I stared at him. "What do you want, Perun?"

"To give you some advice," Perun said.

"A lot of that going around," I muttered, sarcastically. "Everybody wants to tell me how I should handle this."

"Success has many fathers, but failure is an orphan," Thistle said. "Old elvish proverb. You were alone when you were losing but now that you are winning, everyone wants to direct your activities."

"Go ahead," I said, wondering what sage advice the Lord of Surfer Dudes (as I thought of Perun) would say.

"Trust your gut," Perun said, surprising me. "My brother can't understand you because he's used to playing every possible angle while manipulating people. Even before the Twisted Ones got into his head, he was always someone who treated every relationship as transactional. The mercy you've shown your enemies is something he assumes is designed to be strategic. But he doesn't think of you as just trying to do the right thing and help as many people as possible. That isn't something he gets and it's allowed you to run circles around him until now."

"Until now," I said.

"He's on Earth now and that means he's on the second worst planet in the universe for corruption and backstabbing after Mokosh," Perun said. "Worse, the public is eager to embrace the kind of power he offers. He is spreading all of the magic he stole from Mokosh via universal magical conductors or UMCs. Stop them and you can stop Veles."

"It's that easy, huh?" I asked.

"I mean, he's still a creator god and you're totally outmatched but yes," Perun said. "Especially since you've been irradiated and the magic inside your remaining marks has been utterly fucked."

I blinked. "What?"

"Don't worry, you're immune to radiation unlike the rest of your group," Perun said. "Comes with being a sky god. However, the marks are useless right now. You need to recharge them."

"How the hell do I do that?" I asked.

"Gimme the marks," Perun said, holding out his hand.

Even though Veles was a Trickster god, I handed them over as I was certain he had already exhausted his cheap shots for the day. Perun set down his maul and took both before holding them in the air, both glowed before he handed them back.

"Thanks," I said, taking them. "So, they work now?"

"No," Perun said. "They'll need to be recharged, so to speak. However, they'll absorb the essence of a divine being if you slay it."

"Yeah, because there's plenty of those running around," I said, having learned that I had a lot of sass toward the divine these days.

"Belobog," Perun said, as if that made it any better. "It can absorb his essence and, if you choose to take that into yourself, it might give you the edge you need."

I stared at him. "At what cost?"

"Everything that makes you who you are," Perun said, not mincing words. "You tell me if it's worth it to protect all the people you love."

I didn't answer.

"You should be prepared for the Witch Queen's treachery, Lord Aaron," Thistle said. "She is only helping you because she believes she can somehow steal your divinity."

"Can she?" I asked.

Perun shrugged. "You never know with magic. When you're rewriting the rules of reality that we, the gods, wrote, it's always up in the air. Are you ready to go back to Mokosh?"

I looked up at Perun. "One more question: why are you and the other gods so dead set on me joining your ranks?"

Perun's expression didn't change but he looked at Stompy and Thistle. "You have good friends, Aaron."

"I would question numbering Thistle among my friends," I said. "Is she still brainwashed into being my slave?"

"Being in your head has cured me of any lingering adoration," Thistle said. "But I will fight by your side to protect the elvish race."

"Good luck," Perun said, waving his hand. "With what I've done for the bracelets, I won't be able to fully regenerate for a century. I hope I'll live long enough to see a pair of liberated worlds."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, looking up. "Listen, it was good to see--"

That was when Perun picked up his maul and pointed it at me. Everything went white and I was suddenly falling a few hundred feet over Crossroad Keep.

Oh, and Belobog's army was already attacking it.

Mothersucker!