Curselock: A Cursed LITRPG Adventure

The silence following Ashford’s death lasted only seconds before cheering started. With a growing murmur, the crowd that spilled from one of Spencer’s portals erupted. Helmets and gloves were thrown into the air, the guard uniform suddenly becoming optional. Whistles sounded from people with fingers in their mouths, hollering came from the rest. Swords were lovingly holstered, magic died in the hands of the caster.

It was, by all accounts, a celebration. It wasn’t every day a notorious Harbinger died front and center. The city was saved, the threat was removed. The Sightless King and his cult, the Pathways Witch, and now the Undying Harbinger, all dead.

There would be time to mourn the dead, there would be time to rebuild the ruin. But for now, those closest to the battle celebrated being alive.

Except for some.

It may have been just minutes ago, a timeframe that grew exponentially while in battle, but Ashford and his killer, Leland Silver, had discussed some interesting things before they inevitably fought. It seemed, if those perceptive few understood correctly, Leland Silver was another Harbinger. And yet, here he stood, protecting the city.

Those perceptive few eyed him cautiously, even though he just stood there.

Leland had one hand wrapped around the collar of his shirt, the same spot Ashford had held him. He had been as good as dead, in that moment, but he somehow came out on top. He breathed slowly, staring at the area where Ashford had died. There wasn’t even char, the man had simply withered into nothingness like embers after a night of grilling.

A presence knocked him out of his stupor. Lodestar. The parasitic weapon returned to him, transforming back into tattoo form, all the while remaining silent. It seemed the weapon had nothing to say, which was fine with Leland since he had nothing to say back to the being that almost allowed him to die without an ounce of help.

Those final moments replayed in Leland’s mind. Staring Ashford in the eyes, rather, staring the Undying Lord in the eyes. Coming up with some nonsense plan to lean on the Harbinger’s humanity, ultimately causing the man to hesitate long enough to blast with Soul Fire.

But during all of this, Lodestar hadn’t helped.

Letting out a pitiful growl, Leland didn’t have the strength to spout a quippy dig at the parasite. Getting in an argument right now was far down on his list of things to do.

Instead, he crouched down and picked up the Sightless King’s Claim.

It was a soul.

Despite the shock, Leland couldn’t help but accept the fact and move on. Whatever a “Claim” was, it wasn’t by any means normal. First of all, it was red, as opposed to a normal soul’s green. Secondly, it weighed far too much. Normally, souls didn’t weigh a thing. Not even the few powerful ones he had taken.

He supposed it made sense, however. A soul was a tangible thing, of course some had different properties depending on the life they lived. The Sightless King was no different. In fact, Leland would have been surprised if there weren't quite a few oddities about the monster.

Still, holding the bleeding red mist, he couldn’t help but feel small. The Claim was by and large something unique. It tickled his skin and drew the eye. It almost felt sticky, like it wanted to ooze into his skin and take up shelter. But there was something past all of that. Leland almost didn’t notice it, only doing so because he specifically looked for it.

Divinity.

That’s what a “Claim” was, he then knew. It was a spark, an ounce of true Lordship. A key, if you will, to a realm unlike any other. A tower to the heavens, a bridge to elsewhere. It was the very thing that made people into legends.

And Leland was holding it.

Looking from the corners of his eyes, he scanned the cheering crowd. Some were yelling at him, praising him for killing a true monster. Others were screeching into the air, their arms raised in impromptu dance. But a few, at least those not trying to hide, were watching him.

Leland put the Sightless King’s Claim into his soul-bank, the Soul Lord’s necklace-cloak, before stuffing the ethereal chain into his shirt.

“Leland?”

He turned to the voice, finding his mom and Isobel. Roy, Diana, and Carmon were close also, Rushwin too.

“Not here,” he quickly told them before yelling into the air, “Dad!? Take us out of here please!”

Portals opened not a split second later, and everyone walked through, some stumbling more than others. Leland instantly crashed onto the couch his father was sitting on.

Relief finally hit him, the crushing feeling of being alive causing his legs to shake. How close was he to death, really? A question best not answered, he knew.

“You okay, Leland?” his mother asked.

He slowly nodded, a potion appearing in his hand. He sipped it slowly. “If he wanted me dead, I would have been. He tried to fight his Lord’s will to the bitter end.”

“What do you mean?” someone asked, Leland wasn’t sure who if he was being honest.

“Ashford didn’t want to go through with the Undying Lord’s plan. And I think subconsciously he understood that he was the bad guy. So he didn’t really try to fight me. And when it came down to it, he hesitated to kill me.”

The next voice was one he knew well. Isobel’s. “So you capitalized and killed him.”

Slowly Leland shook his head. “It was more than that, but yes.” He swallowed. “In the end, I won. And that’s that.”

Carmon, who had been standing in the corner, butted in, “As much as I want to hear more of this, I need to check on my son. Spencer if you—”

A portal opened next to him.

“Jude’s with him,” Spencer then said to Diana and Roy.

The three parents rushed through the portal, finding their children among the mess of wounded.

“They’re okay, right?” Leland then asked.

“They’re fine,” Spencer quietly said. “Glenny’s condition is strange but fine, Jude is uninjured.”

It was then Rushwin spoke up, the old High Inquisitor having followed everyone through the portal from above the city. “I’m going to need a better report than what you have already said. Please, start from the—”

Both Lucia and Isobel turned on their former boss.

Lucia growled, “And you will when he rests. Not a moment sooner.”

Isobel took the more direct approach, “He won. That’s the report. Why are you even here?”

Rushwin’s mask of indifference didn’t slip, although he did glance back at the boy in question. Leland Silver, Guardian Harbinger of the Palemarrow Monarchy, Son of the Calamity, and Divine Claim Holder, had already fallen asleep.

“I suppose the report can be done at a later date,” the old man said. “Now if you will excuse me, I have a city to rebuild.”

It was a few hours later when Leland woke up. Rushwin had left, off to do whatever it was he needed to do. His parents had remained, each curled up beside one another on the couch, sleeping entangled. Isobel was nowhere to be seen.

Leland took the moment alone to go over the changes in his grimoire.

Fracture is now rank 21.

Crow Massacre is now rank 22.

Curse of Collapse is now rank 22.

Harbinger Halo is now rank 24.

Circle of Souls is now rank 23.

All basic curses had improved, while Harbinger Halo was the standout. Which, Leland supposed, ought to be correct. It was his specialized and most used curse. But to think, in the short span of just a few days, he was already nearly halfway to the next major milestone. He smiled a little at that, despite everything.

“Honey?”

Leland stirred, finding his mom groggily watching him. “Hey mom.”

She nudged Spencer, waking him with an audible “gah.”

“How are you feeling?” she then asked.

“Fine, all things considered,” Leland answered as if he had just finished a cross-country trip. “I’m glad it’s all over.”

“As are we,” Lucia quietly said, her eyebrows failing to mask the complicated set of emotions she felt. She, for all intents and purposes, had failed her son. She had left him alone instead of properly training him, wasn’t there to help when it mattered, and couldn’t help when it came down to it. How was it that Leland was already stronger than her, she wondered.

A cough sounded. “That said, you’re grounded mister.”

Both Leland and Lucia slowly turned and stared at Spencer. A beat passed, silence filling the void. Spencer coughed again, quickly saying, “That was a joke. You’re not grounded…” His voice trailed off.

“Why would he be anyway?” Lucia asked, her tone like ice. “He just killed a Harbinger! He saved countless—”

Spencer held up his hands in surrender. “I was trying to make a joke about how he did it by himself and that he wasn’t a team player, but I can see it was ill-timed…”

His wife glared daggers at her husband’s sheepish face.

Leland laughed at the scene, causing a shift in his parents. They both relaxed, having long learned that sometimes after a big battle, the winner wasn’t okay. But with their son laughing, they took it as a good sign.

“Can we go see Glenny and Jude now?”