The God Contest Regina [Progression Fantasy, LitRPG-lite, Apocalypse]

"It's as if all identity has been stolen from them, except their identity as slaves."

Kevin Bales, American professor (1952 – )

"Left here. Right up ahead. There's a pitfall trap if you keep going straight," Pane advised as Bethany held the fragment of mirror out in front of her. "There's no spikes at the bottom. It's more like a children's ball pit at a fast-food restaurant. If you jump in, you might find a moldy French fry."

"A ball pit?" Bethany chuckled as she imagined Harmony and Brandon swimming across its plastic surface. "That's unexpected."

Bethany turned at the intersection, holding her hammer for light.

"Well, between us, the gods get pissy when their favorite players are eliminated off-camera. Doesn't make for good viewing, you know," Pane divulged.

They get pissy because they collect our energy during the Trial. That must be why the Trial is conducted in stages. The longer they drag it out, the more energy they collect, with the weakest teams being 'removed' at the end of each leg of the race. We're just a giant battery for them.

"So we servants aren't really allowed to kill players in the dungeon," Pane said. "If you fall into certain traps, you get returned to the beginning of the dungeon, but you lose all the stuff you found. Not a big deal on the first level but just wait until you are ten levels down."

"But it does happen? Players getting killed in the dungeon, I mean?" Bethany asked.

"You need to understand something, Bethany," Pane said, as if imparting a great secret. "You humans are morons. We ran a God Contest during the renaissance, and we built this waterfall trap. All it did was get someone wet. That's it. It was a joke. Haha, look at the stupid human – that kind of stuff."

"And something went wrong?"

"You could say that. There was this peasant – can't remember his name – who found a full set of plate mail armor in the game. It didn't fit him, and he had no idea how to use it. But he still wore it around the dungeon. He triggered the waterfall trap and – get this – he drowns!"

"That… seems implausible."

"Yah, we thought so too. We were having a good laugh at his expense until his foot got stuck in a crack in the floor. His party had no idea how to get him free of his armor fast enough. So the armor filled up with water and… gurgle gurgle."

Bethany should have been horrified.

Instead, she burst out laughing.

"That… that's terrible," Bethany chuckled. "I shouldn't be laughing…"

"Hehe, yah, it was a sight to see," reminisced Pane. "Of course, that's how my friend got half his face burned off. As punishment, The Authority thrust my friend's head into the fire and held it there until it was scorched to the bone."

Bethany stopped laughing, horrified. A memory came to her.

Wait… half his face burned off? It couldn't be – the creature in the library the morning I got my Oracle Eye.

"Was… was he about three feet tall, with brown fur and these weird goat legs?"

Pane's eye flashed towards her suspiciously.

"That's not possible," he muttered, glaring as if seeing her for the first time. "The only servants visible to players are the guides and those like me who run challenges in the dungeon. The rest of the servants are invisible to you humans. Who… who are you?"

"No one," Bethany said adamantly, shaking her head. "Just a player. I just…"

Keep it vague, Bethany. You can't tell him you got the power from Oracle.

"… got a talent in an Arena that reveals invisible things. I thought it was kinda useless, until it let me see your goat friend."

Pane rolled his eye.

"Fucking gods," he grumbled, buying Bethany's explanation. "They're always manipulating talents to twist their purpose. Probably one of Mārīcī's experiments. She loves her invisibility magic. Well, I guess there's no harm, as long as you keep your mouth shut about seeing us. It's not like you players can't hurt us, but the gods will take notice if a player can interact with the servants – and that won't end well for you."

"Humans can't hurt servants?" Bethany asked, confused.

"Of course not," Pane scoffed. "Only the gods can harm the servants."

But if players can't hurt servants, how did I chip Olive's wing? Is the Hammer of Eternity that powerful?!

"So… what can hurt you?" Bethany pried.

Pane narrowed his eye suspiciously but eventually answered. "Well, I guess there's no real harm in telling you. Only the gods can harm the servants."

"Because they created you?"

"Well… um, I don't really know," Pane answered, his thoughts suddenly thrown into turmoil. "The Authority says he created us, and my first memory is bowing before him. So… he must be our creator, right?"

And if he didn't? The Authority is a liar. He's lied to his fellow gods, and he probably lied to the servants.

"You don't sound convinced, Pane," Bethany prompted.

"It's… just a niggling thought," Pane said, trying to dismiss her curiosity.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

"You can tell me," Bethany encouraged, playing the friendly ear. "What am I going to do? Go tell Authority?"

"That's true," Pane started. "Well, you see, the gods can't kill servants – only maim us. And there haven't been any new servants created in living memory, even through the God Contests keep growing more and more elaborate. You'd think Authority would have made more of us. And…"

"And?"

"It's just a hunch. I keep feeling there's something… missing… in my life. I don't know how to describe it. It's… it's like there's a hole in my soul that can't be filled."

For an almost imperceptible moment, Bethany's hammer pulsed, and, in the depths of her mind, she felt Pane unconsciously reach out for its light – a yearning he couldn't even perceive.

Bethany gasped as it suddenly fell into place in her mind.

The Authority didn't create the servants. Eternity did! When he imprisoned Eternity, he must have cut Eternity's servants off from their creator and manipulated their minds to believe they were his. That's why he can't create new ones, and why he can't kill them. And it's why my hammer – Eternity's weapon – hurt Olive. I don't know what to think of this, but I know it's important.

"Don't tell anyone I said that, okay?" Pane begged. "I… I don't know what they'd do to me if they found out I thought that way, let alone told a player my suspicions. I'm already scraping the bottom of the barrel in my rank as a servant. There isn't anyone to go below my current position."

"I won't tell, Pane," Bethany said without hesitation. "I promise. Besides, if they'd maim you for disobeying, just think about what they'd do to me!"

Pane considered this. "It wouldn't be pleasant. I guess we have no choice but to trust each other now."

I guess so. Does Oracle know about Eternity's connection to the servants? If I'm right, that's an awful lot of eyes and ears that could be on our side if we can release them from Authority's grasp. After all, five gods won't be enough to free Eternity.

"Turn here," Pane said, and Bethany headed left. "The exit is just ahead, though you missed some good stuff. There's this particularly spicy ramen three turns back that is my absolute favorite. Add an egg – you can find those on the fourth floor – and it's a recipe for deliciousness."

"Can you even eat as a mirror?" Bethany asked, grateful to switch topics.

There must be a way to help the servants. Even if we just start with Pane – and perhaps Olive. I'll ask Diane tonight. See if she has any ideas.

"No, I can't," grumbled Pane. "And you know what the worst part is? My hunger level is the same as when I was put into this form. They – and by 'they', I mean my ex-wife – neglected to tell me of my new assignment and I skipped breakfast that day. So I have this constant, low-level hunger at all times."

"Is that why you're so cranky?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"Definitely," Bethany said sympathetically. "You really did draw the short straw."

Bethany turned the corner and stepped into a small, perfectly circular chamber. At its center was the stairway down to the second level, an iron door identical to the one she'd entered through, and a small wooden chest.

"Oh, you're the first to make it here!" Pane exclaimed, his eye on the chest. "You're lucky. Those chests are the only thing that does not replenish in the dungeon. And you want to find as many of them as possible."

"Why?"

Pane's eye sparkled. "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Bethany walked slowly over to the chest, running her fingers across its polished surface. It was remarkably plain – dark brown wood framed in iron, with a simple silver latch. She pressed the latch gently and it easily popped open.

She lifted the lid and inside lay a small bronze ring with a single, intricately carved ruby as its centre stone.

"It's pretty, I guess," Bethany remarked. "I don't really know anything about jewelry. The only piece of jewelry in my home was my mom's wedding ring, and my father pawned it after she died to pay for his booze."

"Wow, that's rough," Pane said sympathetically. "Well, whatever you do, don't pawn this one. Because it's no ordinary ring."

Bethany picked the ring up gingerly in her fingers, feeling a faint heat from the metal.

"What is it?" Bethany breathed, drawn into its energy.

"There are three ways to get stronger in The God Contest. Emporium coins, talent disks, and enchanted equipment. That last one is exceptionally rare. The God Contest isn't like those video games you humans play. You're not going to turn a corner and find a dozen of these things lying around. You have to earn them, and there are only so many to earn. This one here – the Ring of the Servant – is the first one to be awarded in this entire Contest."

"Only the first?"

"Equipment is not populated across the God Contest until the first Trial has commenced, so the Ring of the Servant is almost always the first one to be found. All the others in Regina are far more difficult to acquire, and the ones in the terrains beyond the city even more so. Most people who try get killed in the attempt."

"What does this one do?"

"Put it on and see for yourself," Pane said excitedly. "It's always fun to watch the player's face as it takes effect."

Bethany swallowed and slipped the ring on her left index finger. Its power surged through her blood, causing her to collapse to her knees.

"H… holy shit," Bethany swore, as she felt her magic and fitness level swell. "What… what the hell? It's incredible."

"You should be able to see its effect on your player screen," Pane advised, and Bethany opened her window.

"And that's the weakest equipment out there," Pane advised her. "The more powerful ones give special talents as well – talents not available on the golden discs. Be careful. Players will kill to get their hands on such equipment."

I can see why. At least the ring is small and plain – it shouldn't draw much attention.

"It's going to take a little to get used to this power," Bethany breathed, rising to her feet. "Whew, that… that feels amazing."

"Taking a moment is a good idea. More than one player has died because they didn't take a second to pause and adjust after growing stronger," Pane agreed.

Bethany took several deep, calming breaths, until her heart slowed. "Okay… what do we do now?"

"Well, you have two options to choose from. If you take the stairs, you descend to the second floor, and you'll have to keep going until you find that floor's exit. Or until you fall into a trap and lose all your stuff, of course. Which is likely."

"Can't you lead me through the second floor too?" Bethany asked hopefully.

"No," Pane sighed. "I'm not a builder, so I don't know the specific layout of the dungeon. Just the first floor."

"Damn," Bethany said, dejected. "And the other option? The door?"

"It takes you back to your apartment, and you keep all your loot from the dungeon. If you don't take that option right now, you're a fool. The last thing you want to do is risk losing that ring – or a certain friendly mirror – in a trap. Once you make it back to your apartment, you'll be able to keep the me and the ring, even if you fall into a trap during a future trip to the dungeon."

"The door it is," Bethany said, heading for the iron door. "You should stay quiet when we get back. Olive seems to be a rule follower, and I don't think your decision to help me falls within what's allowed."

"Not even close," Pane agreed. "Pull me out when you return to the dungeon, or when you need a friendly ear. Stay safe, Bethany. You're one of the good ones."

The eye disappeared from the mirror, leaving only its reflective surface. Bethany wrapped it carefully in a cloth and stowed it in the protective pouch in her backpack.

"Well, that was an interesting couple hours," she said to herself, reaching for the door's handle. "I wonder if anyone else is awake yet."

She pulled the door open and stepped inside.

And ran straight into Becka, causing them both to tumble to the floor.

"God damn it!"