Vigil's Wrath: A LitRPG Adventure (Vigil Bound Book 4) by James Hunter

Author:James Hunter [Hunter, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press
Published: 2023-07-03T16:00:00+00:00

18

Loadout

I slept for a handful of hours, but it was a restless, uneasy sleep filled with nightmarish dreams of Ionia and Jeffery torturing my friends. Flaying the skin from Melwyn’s body. Plucking off Renholm’s wings. Trapping Cal in a Soul Cage until he went mad from the isolation. I woke up well before dawn, sweat matting my hair and slicking my chest. I reached over and ran a hand over Melwyn’s bare shoulder, reassuring myself that she was still there and that the nightmares were just that and nothing more.

She mumbled something incoherent at my touch, then snuggled even deeper under the covers.

Quiet as a mouse, I pulled myself from the bed, threw on a pair of linen pants, then crept from the room on silent feet. An anxious energy burned inside my chest, and I knew there wasn’t going to be any more shut-eye for me. I took a few minutes to sweep the house, checking for anything suspicious or out of place, then stole onto the lawn and walked the perimeter. I’d spent countless hours on firewatch during my time in the Corps, so patrolling in the dark of night while the rest of the world snoozed was oddly calming.

Nothing stirred, aside from Melwyn’s Floral Guardians, who never seemed to need rest. They roved the grounds with an unwavering dedication.

The inside of the Keep was still for the most part, though there were a few notable exceptions.

Rebecca was already up, along with a handful of Bocra, clearing the dishes from the night before while simultaneously prepping the food for breakfast.

When this was all said and done, I needed to give that woman a raise.

Drusk and Iret had been given guest rooms inside the keep and both seemed to be asleep—although there wasn’t really a way to check without cracking their doors, which I figured they wouldn’t appreciate too much.

Hell, there was a good chance both had set protective wards that would blow up in my face if I got ballsy enough to try. There really was no point in antagonizing my new allies unnecessarily. Bogen CrowEye, on the other hand, was still wide awake and hadn’t touched his bed from the look of things. I found him in my study along with Pascow and Cal—all three were ruthlessly combing over the clues from Gobhoill. A slew of maps covered the desk, while more were stretched out haphazardly across the floor.

When I asked how it was going, Cal just grunted out a terse response. “Dude, at this point, it would take longer to catch you up than it will for us to figure out where to go and who we need to kill. Besides, there’s more poetry to dissect, and trust me, you aren’t gonna want any part of it.” He immediately turned back to Pascow. “What do you think Owain’s Discontent is? Is that the name of the guy we’re supposed to hunt down or a potential location?”

The words meant nothing to me, and Cal’s tone was as good as a dismissal, so I wished them luck and slipped into my Soul Vault.

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