Zero to Hero: A High Fantasy Harem Romance LitRPG

The Tower's light was just starting to transform the sky from the deep purple early dawn to a softer blue as we crossed the little bridge that marked the boundary of Fairbrook, the small village that lay directly south of Goodfield. The babbling brook beneath the wooden planks sounded beautiful alongside the chirping songbirds singing up in the trees.

Tristan shifted in my arms to get a better view. "We haven't been here in a long time!"

I adjusted her so she could see without crooking her neck so much. "Yeah, almost a year now since we were here last. Wild to think."

"After everything that happened, what do you think it'll look like?"

Fairbrook was never much, maybe fifteen small homes arranged around a well. "I have no idea. Does anyone even live here anymore?" I didn't know much about the villages anymore on account of the whole being abducted thing. This was the first time I'd been back out here in almost a year, or nine if I counted my time back on Earth.

She shook her head. "I don't know."

I searched my memories. "Didn't a bunch of those zombies in Copperhold come from here? Or were the cultists who lived here snatching people up from the nearby villages?"

"I honestly have no idea. I remember Renard ended up doing a big investigation out here when we left for Galden, but I never thought to ask him about it after everything else."

"Slacker." I grinned. "Are you trying to tell me that my getting abducted and you guys resolving an entire war and cleaning up its aftermath distracted you?"

"Who would have thought, huh?" Her voice was deadpan.

"What zombies? And why's this place abandoned?" Vral sounded confused. "Also, where exactly are we?"

I realized we'd never really told her about our first quest before. Now was as good a time as any. "This bridge marks the edge of a village called Fairbrook, which is a couple of hours south of Goodfield. The last time we were here, the village seemed like a normal, if kind of unfriendly, place. The thing was, we found out later that most of the residents here were marked with a symbol that connected them to the Hands of the Fallen. I think they were abducting people from the nearby villages, but I also remember Jorn saying the village was abandoned after he passed through again later that night. We don't know why."

"Why were they abducting people?"

"Not sure. All we know is that some serious shit went down here. We'd hoped to learn more from that alchemist, but you know how that little quest has been going."

"Yeah. It hasn't been."

"Exactly." I shook my head. We didn't know nearly enough. "All we know is that Jorn's party was attacked here when we all went on patrol, and after he killed a few, he found out they had those symbols on their bodies."

"Weird."

Tristan's brows knitted. "Hey Alex, do you think the people here could have been controlled by magic the same way the people who attacked you and Vral had been back in Galden? What if someone used a black blade on the people here?"

That was a thought. "I don't really know, but I suppose anything is possible." I got the chills. "Jorn did say they were acting odd. Also, I don't know why anyone, let alone an entire village, would sacrifice their own friends and family to some cult for no reason."

"People are shit, that's why." Vral's voice was hard.

"Not all of them." Tristan reached up and took Vral's hand. "I've met at least two good ones."

Vral's fingers wrapped around Tristan's, but she didn't say anything else.

We walked another fifteen minutes before the center of the tiny village came into view. As it did, I slowed my pace, taking in the scene before us. It... wasn't great.

"Goddess..." Tristan's voice was barely a whisper.

"This place is dead," Vral murmured from my shoulders.

She wasn't wrong.

Weeds had choked the main road, nearly covering it from end to end, with only two thin lines where the occasional wagon had crushed grooves into them. A broken cart lay on its side near the well, looking as if it had been in that position for months. All of the houses stood empty, their doors hanging open, creaking in the wind. The inside of each house was dark. There was no smoke coming from their chimneys. Every window was either shattered or crumbling, and aside from the occasional rat, there was no movement within the structures.

The eeriest part, though, was the silence. There were no sounds of animals or people, just a light whooshing sound as the wind cut through the abandoned buildings, making shutters creak and doors groan in the silence. Even the birds had quieted down completely.

"Was this where the old sleaze was attacked?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Jorn's party was attacked just north of here. They barely made it out."

Tristan shifted in my arms. "It was a few days after that when we met... uh..." She sighed. "You know, sometimes I can think of her name so easily, but other times, it's like there's a big ball of wool in my head, and I just can't remember it."

"I know." I couldn't help but frown. The witch's curly hair and her striking face were easy enough to picture, but I just couldn't remember her name half the time anymore. "It's getting worse, too."

"Who are you talking about?" Vral asked.

"You know... the witch... with the curly hair..." What color was her hair again?

"Curly red hair, and she's gorgeous," Tristan added.

"You mean Greta?"

"Greta!" Tristan and I both shouted.

I felt Vral shift on my shoulders. "I thought she might've been being dramatic when she said she was cursed. Guess not."

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I nodded. "If you're around her more, you'll start forgetting her, too."

"Sad."

"Yeah." Tristan and I both said.

"Arden told me that it was Avara who cursed her at the end of the Scion's War."

"That busted bitch?" Vral's voice dripped venom. "One day, I'll rip her throat out for what she did to us." Her red eyes were fixed on me.

"I don't even know if they can die." I wished they could. "Monsters like that shouldn't exist."

"I think their bodies can die, but their essence will eventually find new vessels." Tristan stroked her chin. "The best we can do is keep them sealed away."

"I just hope Kasimir and his apprentices can keep the seal intact. I don't want a rematch any time soon." Nor did I want any more nighttime visits. We might be stronger than when Tristan and I first faced them in that alley, but we were nowhere near strong enough to take them on, even if their projected forms were weaker than their real bodies.

"If they do, we're running." Tristan's eyes alternated between Vral and me. "No more risks. Got it?"

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

"Fine." Vral didn't sound convincing.

As we walked into the village square, one of the nearby doors creaked loudly. Turning toward the sound, I saw that the wind had forced one of the doors open. Not willing to be here any longer than we had to be, I picked up the pace. Something about this place made my skin crawl.

"Let's get out of here."

"Yes, please," Vral said.

Tristan's arm hair was standing on end. "It's scary here."

We moved through the village in silence. I tried not to look too closely at the interiors of the homes as we walked past, but I couldn't help but catch little glimpses of all the lives that were ruined here. A child's toy in a doorway, cracked and broken. Rotten laundry, still hanging on a line by the thinnest of threads. A table still set with plates and silverware, the remnants of food still on the plates.

When we got to the last house of the village square, I got the chills again. Stopping, I turned and looked back toward the village.

There was nothing, just empty homes.

"Do you really think they're all dead?" Vral asked.

"I don't know. Maybe some of them escaped. Or maybe they rejoined the rest of the cult somewhere." Maybe in Velmire, if the rumors that Elise uncovered were true.

"Or maybe they moved to Goodfield?" Tristan offered. "It's not far."

"Maybe," I said, hoping she was right. The thought that an entire village had been corrupted and killed was too dark to think of. Turning back toward the north, I took a step—froze. I felt something behind us. Like pressure, coupled with that feeling people got when they were being watched.

"Alex?" Tristan's voice was tight. "What's wrong?"

Turning, I scanned the village behind us. "Do either of you feel that?"

"What is it?" Vral asked. "I don't feel anything."

"I feel cold." Tristan rubbed her arms.

I got another wave of chills. "I don't know. I just... I feel like we're being watched." I scanned high and low, looking for anything that was out of place. There wasn't anything on the street, but on the side of the road...

There.

Just for a second, there was a flicker of movement near the well. A shadow that was darker than it should be, moving against the wind. Just as fast as I saw it, it was gone.

"Girls, I'm putting you down."

"Okay." Tristan nodded to me, her lips tight. "I think that's a good idea."

"What? Why?" Vral's legs tightened around my neck. "I really don't wanna."

"Sorry. Something's wrong here."

She sighed a long, drawn-out sigh. "We'll never get a full day of peace, will we?"

"Doesn't seem like it." I set Tristan down with care. Holding her steady, I asked, "Are your feet okay?"

She tested each tender foot, wincing as she put pressure on each of them. "They will be." Muttering those impossible-to-understand words of hers, there was a flash of light from her fingertips.

[Healing Light]

Her jaw, which had been tensed, relaxed. "So much better."

"From here on out, save your magic unless you need it, alright?"

"Done." She held her hand out. "Can I have my armor and my mace?"

"Sure." I reached into my inventory, pulled out her chainmail and her large two-handed mace, and handed them to her.

"Thanks." She shimmied into her chainmail, then picked up the mace and gave the weapon a few practice swings. Seemingly confident with her performance, she slung the weapon onto her back and took a few steps toward the village center.

Vral stood on my shoulders and flipped over my head. She landed with a dramatic roll, then sprang to her feet, her daggers already drawn. Walking forward until she was standing in front of Tristan, she held her weapons in front of them both, clearly ready to engage anything that decided to look at them wrong.

Pulling my helmet from my inventory, I strapped it on before pulling out my new shield. As it emerged, I couldn't help but admire the craftsmanship. The dwarves of Tinker Town had appreciated all we'd done in trying to recover Dorit from the Depths. Even though we'd failed, in thanks for our efforts, they offered to make us something to help us with our adventures. The girls both agreed that it was my turn, so in addition to repairing my armor, I had them build me a new shield.

It was smaller than most of the other shields I'd worn and trained with and perfectly round since I'd opted to have them construct a round shield with a central boss. I'd asked for that kind of shield instead of a more standard type to take advantage of the increased speed and maneuverability, as well as to better capitalize on my [Shield Throw] ability. Holding the shield by the boss and throwing it was far easier than pulling the strap off every time I wanted to use the technique.

I'd lost so many shields over the past few years that I hadn't grown very attached to them as time went on. But this one... I had good feelings about it.

Next, I pulled the new sword I'd recently purchased in Khozad'Thar and the black blade Dorit had repaired out of my inventory and belted them both onto my hip. Reaching down, my fingers hovered over the black blade's hilt for a long moment before moving past it and drawing the steel one. Despite the magical sword being stronger than a simple, plain steel one, I didn't want to use the soulrender blade if I didn't have to. It had spent most of its time in my inventory since we'd left the Depths, yet, even though it had been kept out of the light in that space, it had begun degrading again. If it were nighttime, I'd chance it, but for now, I'd keep it sheathed unless I absolutely needed it.

Hopefully, I wouldn't.

"I don't see anything," Vral lowered her arms. "Are you sure you saw something?"

"No, I'm not sure. But I think I saw something by the well."

"On it." Vral took a dozen steps toward the old stone well. No hesitation. And no limp. She'd definitely been faking that twisted ankle.

Not that I minded. Not one bit.

"Vral, stay close." Tristan was moving far more cautiously.

"Okay." The goblin stopped and waited for us to catch up.

Once Tristan and I reached her, we walked back toward the village center, our footsteps almost too loud in the quiet. The well sat at the eastern edge of the square, its stone walls crumbling and covered in moss. I approached slowly, every instinct screaming at me to turn around and leave.

Peering over the edge, I grimaced. The water was still and murky, thick with algae and something else that looked nasty. The smell hit me a second later. It reeked.

"Gross." Vral pulled her hood up over her head and closed the attached veil.

Tristan's face went white. Reaching her hands out toward the water, she whispered some words, and her palms began to glow.

"No. Hold on. Save your magic."

"But this water is tainted. I should purify it before it leeches into the ground."

I looked around. "Not yet. The area isn't clear yet. Once it is, we'll come back and—" There was movement in my peripheral vision.

I spun, catching the barest glimpse of a shadow slipping into a small house down the village's only cross street.

"There." I pointed toward the house with my sword.

"I saw it." Tristan's voice was steady.

"Me too," Vral stepped in front of us. "Should we follow?"

"Yeah." I gripped my sword tight. "We should."

Together, we made our way to the house. Once we were ten paces away, I held my hand up to stop us. Pointing to my eyes, I signalled for the girls to look for anything out of place. While they did that, I assessed the house.

The house was small, tiny really, and in worse shape than most of the others. Judging by the many tools that littered the patio, I assumed the home likely belonged to a craftsman of some kind in the past. The door hung open, swaying slightly in the breeze, but I could see inside due to a tarp or blanket made of what looked like wool blocking the view into the interior, and no windows faced the street. We'd have to go in blind.

"See anything?" I whispered.

"Nothing."

"Nah uh."

"Alright. Let's do it, then. Stay sharp." Holding my shield forward, I walked toward the house, stepped onto the porch, entered the doorway, and cut through the blanket, revealing the small room within.