Harajun EXP Is Golden: Volume 3

1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-1-7183-5656-6
Verlag: J-Novel Club
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 250 Seiten

Reihe: EXP Is Golden

Hilith has fallen. Oral has been overthrown in a secret coup. Just when you thought bad girls couldn't have any more fun, the devs step in-not to stop them but to make it official. In recognition of their 'achievements' (and totally not because they broke game balance for newbies), Leah, Lyla, and Blanc are invited to become semiofficial antagonists in the next patch. With an entire player base about to be unleashed upon them, they waste no time preparing. But in a game where every update brings fresh opportunities, sticking to the old playbook won't cut it. It's always a race to find the next big exploit before someone else does, and as always, cerebral gamer Leah is up for the challenge. New mechanics, friends, foes, and challenges await in the new dungeon system patch!

Autoren/Hrsg.

Harajun

Weitere Mitwirkende

Fixro2n

Chen, Dawson

Leseproben

“I see,” the count rumbled, “that you continue to defy expectations in ways most unpredictable. Listen well, my kin. Lords of Destruction—that is, your Queen of Destruction—are beings similar to the True Vampire: the sire of all vampires, the being sovereign over you and me. They are entities of unfathomable power, far beyond our reach. Perhaps this one, newly born, has yet to demonstrate that strength. But in time, I would not be surprised if she came to rule over the entire realm.”

“Wow. That’s crazy,” Blanc murmured. She knew that Leah was something special, but not special. Then again, should she be surprised after seeing Leah in action? And seeing her own growth hop onto an exponential curve after teaming up with her?

“And to think she already has enough worthy lieutenants to have Four Lords of Doom...” the count muttered to himself.

“Oh, I think I forgot to mention: I’m one of them!”

“And to think she already has enough worthy lieutenants to have Three Lords of Doom...”

“Hey!”

“The Lords of Destruction are not ones to gather followers. They are ill-suited to rule—’tis not in their nature. To have four—or three—powerful lieutenants is not unheard of, but an at her command? That is a manner of leadership more befitting a Thearch...or a Heresiarch.”

“Thearch? Heresiarch? What’s the difference between all these archs?” Blanc asked.

“The blood they bore before their ascension,” the count replied. “Those fated to rise as Lords of Destruction... They are not of a kind meant to wield , for theirs is a path of chaos unbound. In contrast, Thearchs and Heresiarchs... They arise from races bound in order, where is not merely a boon but a blade with which to carve their rule.”

“Then, a Lord of Destruction with a whole freakin’ army under their command is...”

“An existential threat. Perhaps not now, but in time. In the end, she may be even mighty enough to defeat Draco Aureus itself, that slumbering titan sealed at the Furthest Reach.”

Thearchs, Heresiarchs, and now this Draco Aureus—each term was more unfamiliar to Blanc than the last. She wondered if even Leah knew about them. But the more she thought about the name, the more familiar Draco Aureus sounded.

“Draco Aureus?” she murmured.

“A being not of this realm, one not bound by its laws,” the count explained. “And yet, for that very reason, it proved vulnerable. Binding magic was its weakness. That weakness allowed it to be sealed away, imprisoned in that distant land where all but time stands still.

“It was the Thearch who cast the seal, though he did not stand alone. He led a gathering of disparate souls, bound solely by purpose. And among them...the True Vampire, our lord. I was but a whelp at the time. What I know is what was passed down to me.”

“And where is this Thearch now?” Blanc asked.

“He is no longer,” the count replied. “Lost in that great battle, and since that fateful hour, no new Thearch has risen to take his place. The Heresiarch...perhaps lingers still. He did not take part in that great undertaking. According to our lord, he was a bit of a recluse. If he yet lives, he has not surfaced in an age.”

What Blanc got out of all this was that Leah had contemporaries.

“Isn’t there also some archangel?” she asked. “What’s their deal?”

“The Archangel,” the count said softly. “An upstart, yet one that rose with unnatural swiftness. Born in the wake of the great Fey King’s fall, and in but a fleeting span, they grasped power enough to shake the heavens themselves. Their Celestial Citadel now hangs above, claimed as their throne. And from it, they cast their whims upon the land—upon its populace. I have never crossed their path, nor peered into their design. My halls stand untouched. So long as that remains, I see no cause to stir.”

“If attacked, would you retaliate?” Blanc asked.

The count furrowed his brow in vexation—a display of emotion quite novel to Blanc. “It galls me to admit, but I doubt I could reach.”

“Oh! Did I tell you I can fly now?”

The count boomed a deep laugh. “That is not what I meant by reach.” He laughed again.

“And, and, and! We were in a coup d’état, and overthrew a whole civilized kingdom! Aren’t you gonna say anything about that?”

At this, the count blinked his eyes slowly, then turned to the Mormos.

Magenta stepped up. “Forgive me for speaking out of turn. Our lord speaks truly. What she means to say is that in concert with a human noble named Lyla, we have dismantled the prior regime of a civilized kingdom and installed in its place our own puppet regime. Lady Lyla, as our lord has alluded to, is the woman who shares a bond with Lady Leah.”

A moment of silence, then, “Bwa ha ha!” the count’s laughter burst forth, a great booming mirth that filled the hall. “Then you mean to say exactly what I thought you meant! One of the usurpers of the Fey King has now tasted the same bitter fate—felled by their own methods! Ah, how rich! How poetic!”

The count was in a great mood. The way he spoke of the Fey King suggested, if not a close friendship, then at least a passing acquaintanceship. One thing was clear—he certainly preferred the memory of the old Fey King over the current rulers of this realm.

Though, in hindsight, this was perhaps something Blanc should’ve clued into when he’d sent her off to pillage and destroy with a smile on his face.

“Well, shucks, I’m glad, but I can’t take all the credit!” Blanc said. “Really, Lyla and Leah came up with the plan.”

A question seemed to occur to her. “Why don’t you attack any civilized towns yourself, Count?”

The count’s laugh slowly tapered off into the quiet. His gaze turned distant, as if he were looking into the past. “An ancient covenant binds me,” he muttered. “I cannot directly interfere. But at this rate...it might not be long before I walk the surface world once more.”

“Wait, for real?!” Blanc gushed. “Like humanity is done for or what?!”

“For the covenant to break, it would take something drastic, but perhaps not drastic,” the count said. “When that time comes, I will not bid you to follow me. Your path is your own to choose. After all, you are one of the rare few who became a vampire by your own will.”

That statement didn’t entirely jibe with Blanc. It wasn’t like she chose to fail a resistance check against —or to be given the option to become a vampire while keeping her free will. That end result only happened because she was a player.

When she vaguely voiced this thought to the count, he chuckled softly.

“The end result is all that matters. For most things in life, anyway.”

***

“So yeah, that’s the rough gist of what happened these past ten days. And...I feel bad, because you’ve given me a place to stay and all, but I was thinking from now on, I’d live in the town I conquered.”

“Do as you wish, my kin,” the count replied nonchalantly. “What, did you think your leaving could wound me?” His tone was almost amused. “I offered you a place out of my own self-interest. Besides, all vampires must spread their wings and leave the nest one day.”

But as his voice faded, so did his amusement, leaving his face almost desolate.

Looking back, Blanc realized the count had been with her since day one. This wasn’t a final goodbye, but she still wanted to say something—she wouldn’t be the vampire she was today without him.

“Hey, Count? If there’s anything—though I doubt there’ll be anything—give me a shout, yeah? I’ll be in this town—Ellental—for the time being.”

“Even if you named them, I would not know a single town of this age. It matters not. I will be fine.”

“Ah, I know!” Blanc summoned one of her Spartoi from Ellental. “I’ll put this guy over here, and I’ll summon myself over to hang out every now and then!”

“I’m afraid I do not follow.”

“Uh, here. Lemme show ya!”

Blanc trotted out the room, then used to reappear before the throne, right next to the Spartoi.

“What is this...?” the count said incredulously. “Teleportation? No, ’tis not. How did you do that?”

The term caught Blanc’s interest, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask for more details. Not at least until Blanc had answered the count’s own question. Even though she tried hard to keep it brief, her explanation ended up being longer than she intended, as she walked through the skill and its prerequisites.

“I see...” he murmured in understanding. “To think that such a skill existed.”

A slow, persistent chuckle rumbled from him, as if something in the exchange amused him more than it should.

“And to think the day would come when I would learn something from you. Even eternity holds its surprises.” He paused, then let out a quiet breath. “Ah, yes. Before I forget.”

He cast a glance to his side. The butler, waiting in silence, gave a nod and stepped forward.

...