The Calling of Wrath: A Medieval LitRPG Apocalypse

Cassandra

Year 820 | Month 4 | Day 28

The next morning sees us all leaving the World Tree without so much as a goodbye to the other nations leaders, heading straight towards Liathtria again. And to my surprise, this time, there aren’t any seasick people onboard.

Then again, people who get seasick aren’t exactly the greatest of people to rely on for protection while traversing the oceans. I’m pretty sure the only reason the doofus from Aulta was going along was because he was in the Prince’s mercenary team.

I glance at my father, who is standing at the helm of the ship, before leaning over the railing and looking down at the water for a second. But I don’t see anything near the ship’s hull, so I raise my head again to look at the World Tree that we’re moving away from.

Overall, I’d say my time on the World Tree was fruitful. It would’ve taken me a lot longer to be able to get the EXP I got there anywhere else.

In fact, the only places that could possible compare to it are the areas around each of the World Tree Veins. And even those won’t be quite as good.

When I came here I didn’t expect the Ancestor of the Sacred Beasts to be so motivated towards helping me grow stronger. Although I know it’s only because I am the only hope for the planes but knowing that doesn’t really bother me. Because I’ll die if I fail to take down Fafnir and I’ll die if I don’t even try to take him down.

So there’s not much choice.

I also can’t help but admit that the idea of fighting a being like that is a little interesting to me.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of splashing, followed soon after by the feeling of something entering my Wrathful Aura. So I quickly begin running to the other side of the ship, to the surprise of more than a few of the soldiers, before jumping onto the edge and immediately flinging Wrath Lightning over at the water. The lightning runs through the water for several seconds, seemingly confusing the soldiers during that time, only for a bunch of large, Tier 3, and very dead fish to surface.

And the fighting begins anew.

Cassandra

Year 820 | Month 5 | Day 1

I wake up and immediately leave the underbelly of the ship on the dawn of the fourth day on the waters, but the moment I get out of the ship, my poor ears are greeted by the sound of shouting. And when I turn to look who the source of this commotion is, I find Rodrick playing cards with some of the soldiers. Each members of the royal guard, just like every other soldier here.

Loosing too, by the looks of it.

After a short internal deliberation, I walk over to the group from behind Rodrick before leaning on the back of his chair and asking, “So how much did you just lose?”

My brother immediately stiffens up at that and turns his head to look at the soldiers seated across from him, only for the soldiers in question to abandon him without a hint of hesitation, the three of them each turning to look elsewhere. And when Rodrick turns his gaze to the four spectators watching on standby with drinks in their hands, they too turn away.

“How much?” I repeat, making him stiffen up further before he slowly turns around and smiles a very wide smile at me. One that’s just a hint too wide.

“Cass! My sweet little Cass! How are you doing this fine-” he starts, but I just raise a brow and repeat, “How. Much.”

The man opens his mouth to speak, likely to try to change the subject or something. Then I hear Charles’s voice coming from the direction of the hatch down below, making me turn around to find him already mostly above deck and climbing the rest of the way as he speaks, “Rodrick, if I see you gambling again on duty then I’m going to make sure father sends you straight to the Dark Sea.”

I wince at that punishment.

The Dark Sea is probably the worst place in Liathtria outside of the Dark Forest. Mostly because it’s overrun with both monsters and thieves. The entire places is just a giant seabed of pirates.

Then again, Rodrick deserves every bit of it. He has what must be the worst luck in the world despite being a gambling addict.

A rather poor mix.

I still remember back when we were kids and he used to sneak out of the palace to go gamble away his allowance. Something I know because I forced him to bring me with him once just to figure out what the heck he was doing.

“Understood, Brother,” Rodrick says, looking a little glum. But despite that façade, I know he’s probably dancing around on the inside since Charles didn’t do anything to punish him.

He also thinks he managed to avoid my question, so I ask, “How much did you lose this time?”

My lips quirk upwards slightly at the sight of him stiffening up again.

He mutters something under his breath as Charles walks over here and stops right next to me with his arms crossed. But he says it so quietly and at the exact same time that a wave comes hitting the side of the ship and rocking it that I don’t quite catch it. And neither does Charles, because he sternly asks, “What was that?”

After a few seconds, Rodrick finally answers, “I lost a hundred thousand tri-coin…”

I gape at the man in silence, meanwhile Charles just raises his hand and balls it up into a fist before smacking Rodrick on the head.

Did he really just bet enough to buy a nice house on a card game? The hell? Has his gambling addiction grown worse since I last saw him?

I turn to look at Charles, hoping he can answer my internal question, but he just shakes his head and walks away.

Wow. His gambling addiction really did get worse.

I frown at Rodrick before walking away as well.

That’s just sad.