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Mirror Princess: A LitRPG Space Fantasy (Sword of Asteria Book 2)
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Mirror Princess
Sword of Asteria Book 2
Eddie R. Hicks
Mirror Princess
Sword of Asteria Book 2
By Eddie R. Hicks
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Copyright © 2021 Eddie R. Hicks
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This novel contains scenes of graphic violence, explicit language, and sexuality and is intended for mature readers.
Cover Art by: Caterina Kalymniou
V 1.0
Contents
Newsletter
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
Epilogue
Final Stats
Next time on Sword of Asteria . . .
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Prologue
Five airships with cannons primed flew in a delta formation, waiting for the carnage to start. Mathieu Bordeaux, captain of the Sirocco, peered closer at the incoming airships through his telescope and winced at the emblem flags the five airships bore, a sword stabbing the moon. The insignia of New Svartálfar, the nation of the dark elves.
Bordeaux pulled away from the telescope, his hair waving when the high winds blew through it. His airship, the Sirocco, and five other airships bearing the flag of the Lumière Kingdom had uninvited company. He stepped across the wooden deck, ambling to the forward edge of the airship. His fellow light elf crew stood at attention.
“The other ships report the same,” a young officer reported. “Enemy ships are on approach.”
“Battle stations,” Bordeaux announced to the crew. “Sound general quarters throughout the ship.”
“Aye, captain.”
His crew sprung into their action stations, opened their Inventory screens, and yanked out their combat gear from the floating astral screens. Several other members retreated to the lower decks of the Sirocco and switched their classes. They returned donning Mage robes with spell casting tomes in hand. Mage support was critical for moments like this. So were Rangers and Gunners, but Bordeaux preferred the crew with those classes operating the ship’s cannons. Their high agility stat allowed them to acquire targets faster than anyone else.
“Another attack,” one of his officers said, a man holding the hilt of his sword, his light cuirass gleaming when the sunlight touched it.
Bordeaux nodded in response. “They seem to be increasing.”
“I swear, everything went to hell once the corruption infected our world and spread across the globe.”
“Aye,” said a Mage as he lowered his casting tome. “I wonder if taking in that fairy was a good decision from the king.”
Word had traveled throughout the airship; the crew was ready and in position. Beyond the railing of the Sirocco were the other airships part of Lumière’s patrol fleet. The Lumière ships signaled their readiness to the Sirocco. Bordeaux clenched his Iron Musket and doubled checked his readiness.
Mathieu Bordeaux
Class: Gunner LVL 24
Subclass: Berserker LVL 12
HP: 932/ 932
MP: 0/0
AP: 0/100
LP: 8/10
EXP: 14/8952
He was good to go, and turned to his crew. “Mages, assume your positions!”
The Sirocco’s Mage swarmed the edges of the deck, idling near the guardrails with a solid grip on their tomes. Their tomes flipped to the appropriate pages and glowed with astral energy. Past the railing and across the cloudy skies, the New Svartálfar airships spread out to surround the Lumière fleet. They would be in firing range within minutes.
Bordeaux examined the status of the Sirocco’s durability, appearing as a screen that floated near the railing.
Sirocco’s Status
Forward Durability: 20,000/20,000
Aft Durability: 20,000/20,000
Starboard Durability: 20,000/20,000
Port Durability: 20,000/20,000
Overall Structural Integrity: 100%
It was good.
The finest high-level carpenters from Lumière built the Sirocco, using materials tainted by the reality corruption that swept the globe months ago, altering it to conform to a new set of rules. He hoped Asteria would forgive the light elves for using such unconventional means to defend themselves against the dark elves.
Using the same screen, Bordeaux double-checked the Sirocco’s cannons, also crafted by high-level personnel, blacksmiths the Lumière Kingdom conscripted into military service.
Sirocco’s Weapon Status
Forward Weapons: None
Aft Weapons: None
Starboard Weapons: Heavy Cannons LVL 6 - 7/7 Operational
Port Weapons: Heavy Cannons LVL 6 - 7/7 Operational
He t
apped the close screen command, and the screen vanished—no more distractions going forward. The New Svartálfar airships crewed by the dark elves were close now.
And then they were practically on top of them with weapons exploding with thundering bursts throughout the sky.
Bordeaux did not know who had fired the first shot. The adrenaline rushing through his veins had clouded his mind.
Two airship fleets exchanged cannon fire, sending multiple volleys of cannonballs to crash into their intended targets. The explosive roars were deafening. The Sirocco made a close pass to the lead New Svartálfar airship, port side cannons blazing as the Mages on the upper deck cast powerful lightning spells that zapped away the HP of enemy crew members. Bordeaux smiled at the deaths of three dark elves, seen from the telescope he had pulled out. He smiled more when a massive bolt hit the dead dark elves, turning their corpses into soul crystals. When the Sirocco’s Mages ran dry of MP, they fell back, allowing a relief team of Mages to step to the rails and resumed casting their destructive magic. The previous team reached for mana potions from their floating Inventory screens.
None of the ships engaged had fallen from the skies; it was hard to do with such high durability points. Despite the relentless barrage of cannonballs and Mage spells, the Sirocco and her accompanying ships only chipped away at the enemy vessels’ durability. The dark elves had upgraded their airships. They too had high-level carpenters and blacksmiths. Had this been a regular battle, the Sirocco could have scored kill shots with each cannon they fired. Now, everyone had to play by the new rules set by the reality corruption. And the new rules of the universe stated that whoever had the better stats, gear, and most high-level personnel won. The light elves did not possess the best stats, indicated clearly as the Sirocco drifted past a New Svartálfar airship, still in one piece.
The Overall Structural Integrity of the Sirocco fell to 66 percent, while the five New Svartálfar airships managed to maintain numbers no lower than 89.
Today might be the day we die . . .
One of the enemy ships ascended toward the Sirocco, its cannons removing 15 percent of their Forward Durability. Bordeaux saw an opportunity. “Bring us about and target that ship!” he bellowed, his finger pointing at the New Svartálfar airship.
The crew followed their orders and brought the Sirocco to pursue the selected vessel. Bordeaux pulled out his telescope and peered through it, eying it long enough to view the status of its propellers.
He smiled, lowering the telescope.
“Mages,” Bordeaux said to them. “Hit their propellers. Its durability is low—”
“Intruders!” an officer cried out, his jaw-dropping.
Another airship had ascended from the clouds below, its design unfamiliar, as with its flag waving in the wind. Armored men leaped off the newly arrived ship with buzzing dragonfly-like wings on their backs. The men never fell to their deaths. They arose up, flew across the gap, and dropped to the Sirocco’s deck and her sister ships.
“Fairies . . .” Bordeaux grunted.
He was not expecting the fae to enter the fray. Nobody was.
The intruding fae were a mix of melee classes, Berserkers and Spell Lancers, and put Bordeaux’s Mage crew to their weapons. Utter chaos broke out. His men lost hands and legs when their HP dipped below 25 percent. Mages were not known for their defense. The Medics and Clerics sprung up from the lower deck, only for the fae to slash and stab them to death—the fae cut off their healing support. It forced the Mages to disengage from the ships and focus on the fae.
Bordeaux grabbed his Iron Musket and leaped into the violence, his boots splashing through blood now painting the deck. He fired bullet after bullet and each connecting shot raised his AP by 10 points. What remained of his Mage team cast lightning and fire spells at the invading fae, bringing their HP down. One Berserker was at 14 percent, so Bordeaux took aim and put a hole through his face. Fae brains splattered the cuirass of another behind, granting Bordeaux with 100 AP.
Blue and green light rippled from one fae wearing a white cloak decorated with red symbols. It was a Cleric, standing still as they cast a spell with a long cast time, Resurrection.
Bordeaux targeted the fae he put down and selected an appropriate AP ability to use.
Rapid Fire (Rank C)
Stand still to shoot 10 times in a matter of seconds, granting you 100 AP if all rounds land, 20 if one or more miss.
Cost: 100 AP
His Iron Musket exploded in a series of ten shots, each one removing the dead fae Berserker’s LP. The Berserker vaporized, and a single soul crystal rolled across the deck. No Resurrection for him, only a permanent death—
Whack.
Another armored fae Berserker had landed behind Bordeaux.
Whack
He was wielding a two-handed axe and removed swathes of Bordeaux’s HP. Gunners were not good at close quarters combat, and Bordeaux’s HP at 40 percent was proof of that. Bordeaux swung his Iron Musket and used its pointed bayonet like a blade. The bayonet’s sharp edge sliced the Berserker’s face.
Imperial Trooper (Berserker) | HP: 92%
The bayonet’s cut did minimal damage. Bordeaux leaped back to thrust—
The fae made an upward swing, bringing Bordeaux’s HP to 34 percent. The Berserker’s follow-up downward cut took off another 10 percent, then a third cut hit Bordeaux’s left leg, taking it clean off. His severed leg spun through the air and hit the ship’s mast, coating it with his blood. Bordeaux collapsed. The fae Berserker stood above him and lifted the axe to deliver the final blow. Bordeaux aimed his Iron Musket up, ignored the pain from the bloody stump, and pulled the trigger.
He missed.
This is it then . . .
A blast of arctic air hit the fae’s arm, crystalizing it to ice, and keeping it, along with the raised axe in the air. The Berserker panicked, his head searching for the source of the spell. A sword came down on the Berserker’s frozen arm, shattering it and sending his axe falling to the ground. Bordeaux rolled to the right before the axe fell on him, looked up and saw the same sword slash open the Berserker’s neck. Blood squirted from the wound, and the big fae went down to his knees. Bordeaux’s savior plunged their sword through the fae’s back, past its dragonfly wings, through its heart, and out through a red hole on its armored chest.
Imperial Trooper (Berserker) | HP: 0%
Tempeste L’Aignelet, kicked over the dead fae. She kept her sword gripped in one hand as she offered her free one to Bordeaux, the winds scattering her long, blonde hair as her assortment of sigils on her arms and legs glowed brightly.
Bordeaux did not expect her hand. “Do not worry about me.”
Tempeste pointed at his blood-gushing stump. “Your leg.”
He glanced at his injury, then toward where his leg had rolled to. Bordeaux snorted. “Just a scratch!”
He eyed her closely.
Tempeste (Berserker) | LVL: 20 | Rank: B | HP: 100%
Tempeste was not merely a Mage. No, she was using Mage as her subclass. She was the only person he knew who could make a Mage subclass work with Berserker. After drinking a mana potion, Tempeste engaged the fae slaughtering the crew, flicked her wrist to summon deadly icicles to fall upon the fae, perforating their faces and chests as if the icicles were the jagged fangs of wolves. While the fae squirmed at the sudden impalement, Tempeste put them to her sword, one by one. She twirled around to freeze the fae Cleric’s legs, then carved swathes across his chest, took off his arms when he tried to cast a healing spell, then slit his throat. The Sirocco’s surviving Mages stood behind Tempeste, drank mana potions, and cast their spells to shift the tide of the battle.
The fae buzzed their wings and flew away, traveling back to the airship they had leaped from.
A Cleric, part of the Sirocco’s crew, returned to the deck. Just minutes earlier, he was one of the Mages who survived the attack. His crew switched their classes now that some calm arrived in the battle’s aftermath. The Cleric’s body glowed
with green and blue energy, allowing them to cast healing spell after healing spell to top up the HP of those still alive. He targeted Bordeaux next, brought his HP to full, then cast a recovery spell on his limb. Within seconds, Bordeaux grew a replacement leg as his old severed one evaporated. Bordeaux stood up, his body free of pain, blood, and his leg looking like the fae had never cut it off to start with.
He had stood just in time to watch as three New Svartálfar airships fell from the skies with black smoke billowing from their propellers. The other Lumière ships clued in on Bordeaux’s discovery, the dark elves never upgraded their propellers. The New Svartálfar ships withdrew from the battle alongside the fae airship, waving an unfamiliar flag.
“This is too much,” Tempeste said. She sheathed her blade to the side of her split armored dress, custom-made to place many sigils on her skin. “The dark elves now have fairies who can fly across and board us?”