Rot Heart: A LitRPG of Rot Magic in an Ancient World (Book 1 completed)

Oerix didn't raise his head from his book as Div passed by him on his way to the stairs. The library was as quiet as always, with only the librarian and Div still present.

Div didn't mind. He was too lost in his thoughts to care.

He climbed the stairs and emerged outside. Summer was about to start but nights were still chilly, especially on top of the hill Trabine was built on. A crescent moon shared just enough light for him to see where he was going when combined with what was streaming out of the houses' windows.

It was late, but not so late that everyone was asleep.

Going by memory, he started walking in the direction where he believed his lodging was located. It was his first time in Trabine, and he wasn't confident in his sense of direction. At least, their house was near the walls. That should help.

He walked on, hugging his arms to his chest. The cobbled street beneath his feet was uneven, worn down by centuries of use. A chill wind blew down from the hilltop, threading through narrow alleys and under the slanted roofs of Trabine's tightly packed houses. Most were built from dark stone and wood, with moss creeping between the joints, their shutters rattling softly in the breeze. Somewhere in the distance, a baby cried, then fell silent. A dog barked once and didn't continue.

The events described on the tablet were still haunting his mind. He couldn't be sure, but it seemed like Kamun had been afflicted by rot magic. It wasn't exactly the rot magic he knew. Rather, it was closer to what had been happening soon after he awakened Rot Heart. Uncontrollable spread of rot. Only, what happened in Kamun was on a whole other scale.

After spending so much energy reassuring himself that rot could be a force of renewal, it was almost disheartening to read about it being used to cause such widespread destruction.

Kamun was no more. Wiped off the map. Its inhabitants forgotten.

Even its ruins had been buried under the city of Hyepshut.

It might seem like uncontrolled rot magic, but Div believed it wasn't. It was too powerful, but also too localized. The spread had been too slow. Furthermore, based on what the author implied, there were Ascended Ranks in the city. They couldn't have missed such a wild surge of rot-attuned mana.

If it was a spell…

Div immediately got it out of his head to try and figure out who had done it and why. It was a fruitless pursuit, buried by time and distance.

Instead, he focused on how he would proceed to construct such a spell.

Too ambitious.

Granted, making a pile of grain rot wasn't too hard. He could do it, and he didn't even need a spell for it. Concentrating rot-attuned mana would be enough. But, it wasn't what had been done in Kamun.

First, the rot had been spreading, seemingly on its own. While this was a natural property of rot, the people of Kamun were no fools and had enacted preventive measures against this.

So the spell had to circumvent those protections and increase the spreading power of rot.

From the tablet, it was even able to affect living humans.

But Div was also capable of doing so. His Turn spell stood as proof of that. If he could devise a way to make it spread…

It would be dangerous. Perhaps too dangerous. Div had enemies, but he didn't want to wipe out cities indiscriminately.

Even experimenting with a rot spreading spell seemed like a bad idea. Especially in Trabine which was expecting a siege from the mountaineers to start soon.

But it was an idea to progress his magic.

At least, Div had his Preserve spell ready. He would have to offer his services to the elders. He wasn't sure they would take the risk, but there was no harm in asking.

He was walking absentmindedly when his foot bumped into a rock, making him stumble.

Startled, he shook himself awake and took in his surroundings. He was in a dark street, somewhere in Trabine. He'd thought he'd been walking in the right direction but he couldn't recognize any buildings around him.

Maybe it was because they all looked alike in the dark, maybe he'd taken a wrong turn.

He closed his eyes and tried using his Rotlife Sense to find his friends, but it wasn't working. While he could tell people apart after seeing them, their rotlife signature was constantly changing, so it wasn't a reliable method of finding them. Furthermore, there were simply too many inhabitants in Trabine.

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A shout pierced the silence.

Div's eyes snapped open.

It came from the street just ahead, down the slope. Another voice followed, rougher, louder. Then a sharp cry, cut short.

Div moved.

He kept to the wall, padding forward with light steps. As he reached the edge of the street, he slowed and peered around the corner.

Two figures in armor stood in the shadows. Kheironite soldiers. Armored, though both of them wore it loose and mismatched. A young boy, no older than twelve, sat crumpled on the ground in front of them. One of the soldiers kicked at him halfheartedly, laughing as the boy scrambled back.

Div's hand clenched.

He didn't need to intervene. There were a hundred reasons not to. He didn't know what had happened before he arrived. Maybe the kid had stolen something.

But he wanted to.

Another kick, harder this time. The boy yelped.

That was enough.

Div stepped into the light.

"Hey."

Both soldiers turned. The taller one narrowed his eyes. The shorter one sneered. "Back off, kid. This doesn't concern you."

"It does now," Div said.

"You looking for a fight?" The taller one stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade. "Because you won't like how it ends."

Div switched to Ameian. "Back off, now."

The taller Kheironite chuckled. "So you speak our language. Do you think it will make us go softer on you?"

Div didn't answer.

His thoughts were racing. Getting into an altercation with those soldiers wasn't a good idea. Not when he was already walking on thin ice with Emerios. But a simple glance at the bloodied boy who was looking at him from the ground was enough to convince him.

To hell with consequences, he needed to act.

Still, he wasn't going to kill the soldiers. Driving a wedge between Kheiron and Trabine now would be terrible.

Those two were weak, Basic Rank, unimportant in the grand scheme of things. But he knew how his clan's elders behaved. Emerios would jump on the opportunity to extract compensation, no matter how wrong his men had been.

The soldiers didn't seem to realize that Div was stronger than them. He was only sixteen when they were in their twenties. Armored hoplites when his clothes were still dirty and patched from the journey.

He watched them approach him, confident sneers plastered on their faces.

So arrogant.

When they took the final step separating them from him, he activated the two spells he had prepared.

Turn.

Their faces turned white.

"What—"

"What did you do?"

Div smiled. "I gave you a chance."

The shorter soldier dropped to the ground, clutching his stomach, the taller one leaned on the wall of the closest house, his legs trembling.

Rot.

Not enough to kill. Not even enough to cripple.

But enough to teach them fear.

"Back off," Div said. His void was steady, cold. "You're lucky we are not in the wilds."

They scrambled to flee.

Just like that. It was that easy.

He turned back to the boy who flinched when their gaze met. Chorus of Renewal was telling him the conditions weren't met for him to use the skill on the boy.

He needed a connection. It wasn't there.

The boy was scared of him.

Div stepped closer and knelt next to him.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm on your side. Are you alright?"

The boy was trembling. Pain, stress, fear, adrenaline. Still, he nodded.

Div swept his gaze over the boy's numerous injuries, blood was flowing from his nose, staining his pants and shirt. He could feel rot-attuned mana building up with rotlife beneath his clothes.

"I see," Div said. "You're not. I can help you, if you'd trust me."

"I'm fine," the boy said.

Div shook his head. "You're strong. But you're injured. I'm Div, by the way."

The boy hesitated for a moment, before stating his name. "Lepin."

A pause.

"Thank you for helping me."

When he said that, Div felt his skill shift. Chorus of Renewal could be used.

"I'll be healing you with a skill," he said. "It might be slightly uncomfortable."

Div had experienced it the few times En had channeled Echoes of the Rot Heart while he was conscious. It wasn't the worst sensation, but it wasn't pleasant, like an itch he couldn't scratch.

He reached out and placed his hand gently on Lepin's shoulder. "I'm starting."

Rot-attuned mana pulsed from his Rot Heart, flowing like the river's current. His awareness shifted, entering the trance of rot characteristic of Chorus of Renewal.

He could feel his connection to Lepin. Ethereal, weak, hard to grasp. But it was there, and that was all that mattered. He followed it.

A thread of power wove between their souls. Div felt it snap into place, then, his skill got to work harnessing the rot essence to heal the boy's injuries.

Then, something unexpected.

In the rotting trance, Div's eyes widened. "No, damn it!"

He hadn't thought about it. Too absorbed in his desire to heal Lepin, he hadn't considered that the boy hadn't awakened yet.

But he was close to the age where youth would be forcibly awakened. And Div had just quick-started the process.

Worse, Chorus of Renewal had touched Dana's soul deep enough to change her bloodline when she was solidly at the Evolved Rank.

What would it do to the unawakened Lepin?