The weakest frost mage m.., p.1
The Weakest Frost Mage: Magus Rising (Book 1): An EndWorld Everlasting Saga, page 1
THE WEAKEST FROST MAGE
AN ENDWORLD EVERLASTING SAGA
MAGUS RISING (BOOK 1)
GRYPHON FROST
R. BRADY FROST
Copyright © 2023 Gryphon Frost & R. Brady Frost,
PermaFrost Press, LLC
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. Any resemblance of characters, places, or events is purely coincidental.
Cover art by Eugene Chugunov.
Chapter art by Gryphon Frost.
Author photo for Gryphon Frost by Tara Frost, 2023.
Author photo for R. Brady Frost by Arpit Mehta, 2021.
First eBook edition August, 2023
ISBN: 978-1-64735-006-2
Published by PermaFrost Press, LLC
2637 N. Washington Blvd STE 306
North Ogden, UT 84414
permafrostpress.com
To those who wait.
GRYPHON FROST
For my son, Gryphon.
You continue to amaze me every single day.
R. BRADY FROST
THE WEAKEST FROST MAGE
Zachary Smith plays a powerful Barbarian in the world of Kingdoms Unbound.
Killing bosses and scoring loot isn’t just a fun pastime. For Zack and his party, it’s a way of life. It’s how they make their living. Before he can log in, however, one thing stands in his way.
Homework. Yuck.
While working on his assignment, he learns about a magical place. EndWorld Everlasting, a game world afterlife with monsters and quests and loot. Even though Zack has no plans of dying any time soon, it sounds like heaven on Earth, and it’s just what he needs to finish his assignment and log into the game. His party is already waiting for him in Kingdoms Unbound.
Zack doesn’t plan on dying, but when he does, he finds himself awakening to the world of his dreams. EndWorld Everlasting, a game for the dead.
And yet, something is wrong. He no longer feels like the powerful avatar he played in Kingdoms Unbound. Instead, he finds himself just as he is. A kid. Lost and alone… and weak.
Now he must choose his weapon and walk a new path. His eyes linger on the mighty battleaxe, but he knows he lacks the strength to wield it. When he chooses the staff, he unwittingly begins his journey as The Weakest Frost Mage.
The Weakest Frost Mage is the first book in the series: Magus Rising, and is a GameLit Dark Fantasy Adventure with soft LitRPG elements set in the digital world of EndWorld Everlasting.
A wise adventurer will not allow themselves to be afraid of being afraid, nor will they fear the act of facing their fears. For only in the presence of fear, can bravery exist.
1
My immersion pod sat in the corner, just a few feet from the tangled mass of covers on my bed. The pod, and all the adventures it promised, waited impatiently for the school day to end.
I stared at the empty page. The intimidating white space filled the screen like a barren desert. It was patiently oppressive and, in my estimation, quite nearly invulnerable.
My eyes wandered from the monitor to the wall, over to the window, and then to the clock. It was a cheap replica of old wooden models from a bygone era. The hands knocked with a persistent rhythmic ticking as each second marched dutifully into the past. One less second with which to work. A moment wasted: yet another reminder of my lack of initiative and productivity.
When I looked up, Ms. Nakamoto was scanning through the cam feeds. Her eyes darted from one area of her screen to the next. Any pupil deemed to be engaged in less than productive activity would face her verbal wrath. Had my daydreams lasted just a few seconds longer, I’d have been the target of her attention for sure.
I forced my gaze back toward the blank page, naturally assuming my best impression of looking busy. There was no way I was going to allow myself to be called out in front of the entire class. Not again. Not just before what very well could be the biggest weekend of my entire life.
A little less than half an hour of the school day remained. Less than thirty minutes stood between me and another high-stakes gaming session. This could be it. This could be the weekend when we’d finally score big. My heart began to race.
It felt like ages stood between this moment and the instant when I’d finally be free.
I let out a sigh and my imagination wrestled for control once more. I could almost hear the familiar sounds of Gotherok Castle. The distant groans of archaic machinery rumbled through the halls of the dungeon. The drip-dripping of water droplets oozed from the stone ceiling before falling with echoing splatters on the grime-covered stone floor.
The game called out to me like a seductive siren of myth that once sat upon ancient, rocky shores. Just as dangerous, the pod’s song of beckoning threatened to steal me from my quest. The assignment. I still had to finish out the school day. Just as for the sailors of old, to heed the song of temptation was to dash oneself upon the jagged spires of life and, in my case, parental disappointment.
Gotherok Castle. The moans of displeasure and howls of despair of Deathstalkers always preceded the wandering packs of mobs. It was a sound I heard in my dreams at night. It was a constant reminder that these mobs almost never dropped loot that would sustain our party’s long trek through the dark, impenetrable fortress.
Still, there was that familiar feeling. I couldn’t shake the burning desire to bathe in the rush of battle, to feel pure adrenaline pulsing through my veins. The thoughts and memories of our adventures in the game were so much more exciting than homework.
The cursor on my screen blinked in and out of existence. It pulled me back from the well of fantasy with a jolt. Time was running out.
Words were still expected.
“Zachary Smith.” The hard, deliberate pronunciation of my name tore me from the struggle of my thoughts and stung my ears.
“Yes, Ms. Nakamoto?” I asked.
“Your report. The utter lack of progress is stunning. Surely you can do better than this?”
A few familiar, disapproving faces in the video grid stifled laughs and giggles. I couldn’t hear them, but they mocked me from their silent video feeds. My peers received no such reprimand. It seemed they’d been saved from our teacher’s ire by the swift, momentary depth of her distraction and the added grace of their mute buttons.
My cheeks flushed red.
“Yes, Ms. Nakamoto.”
I pulled up a window and stared at the blank search bar. It was a slight improvement over the empty document, but it wasn’t going to be enough. No. She was right. I needed progress. I needed something to base my report on. A topic. And I needed it to be something good.
I typed the words, ‘Technology that changed the world’, into the search bar and hit the enter key.
Entry after entry of pre-formatted lists filled the results screen. Self-driving cars. Nanotechnology. Automated fabrication machines.
These results were far too obvious.
No. Ms. Nakamoto would be expecting those. My topic had to be something interesting. Something less on-the-nose. Something exciting. Something that wasn’t from one of these stupid Internet lists.
I went back to the search field.
The cursor blinked and then my fingers danced across the keys. I even said the words aloud as I typed.
“Revolutionary technology. No, wait.” Backspace. “Revolutionary gaming technology.”
A soft grunt sounded from my monitor. It sounded like Ms. Nakamoto was clearing her throat. The silly woman must have forgotten to mute her mic. It was a noob mistake. One that even the best of us fell prey to from time to time.
I smiled and my mind went back to the gaming pod that awaited me as soon as school let out for the weekend. Full haptic sensors. Total immersion. Life inside Kingdoms Unbound wasn’t exactly a vacation, but it felt real enough. With a few aftermarket tweaks and upgrades, the experience was even better than it had been straight from the box.
Technology had evolved so quickly over the past few years, but it still felt like the entire sector was waiting for the next big thing. Something revolutionary. Something that would turn everything on its head. If I could find something like that, I would ace the report for sure. I was certain of it.
Gaming pods like mine weren’t all that new, though there had been significant improvements in recent years. The basic principle had remained largely the same since their inception. They were virtual pathways to a global play-to-earn economy, one that was accessible to gamers of all types. It was an economic system that offered endless possibilities to those willing to put in the time.
As a gateway technology, the gaming pods had opened the doors to countless digital worlds. A person could go to almost any environment imaginable. Fantasy realms and rainbow kingdoms were just the tip of the iceberg.
Was this technology magical? Yes. Revolutionary? That was a topic that was still heavily debated to this day. It was a topic I knew all too well. If I stuck with this particular subject, the report was as good as done.
Though I wanted to rush headlong into my writing sprint, I felt the unexpect
Half the kids in this class would be writing about the exact same thing. On the other hand, this was a topic I could get excited about. Wasn’t that the point? It wasn’t like any of us would be uncovering some unknown benefit of technology that no one had ever considered. My concerns about originality aside, I might be able to bring a fresh spin to my research, something that hadn’t been turned in a hundred times before.
I felt torn.
Worst case, I should just do it and get it done with. It was a feasible answer. A mediocre grade was better than a blank page.
I pushed a tuft of my curly, red hair back behind my ear and hit enter, initiating the search. My attention settled on one of the top headlines that seemed to dominate the list of results. I read it out loud.
“What is real? What is reality?”
“Zachary Smith. While I’m sure we all appreciate your newfound dedication to your assignment, I must advise that your microphone is still on,” Ms. Nakamoto chided from the other side of the screen.
“Oh. I’m- I’m sorry.” I rushed to hit the small microphone button and did my best to avoid making eye contact with the snickering gazes.
In my haste to avert my eyes, I let my focus travel back toward the first search result. Paid placement, most likely. Then I saw where it was published. No. This was legit. It was an interview piece by a top tech broadcaster, not exactly primary source material, but the premise seemed interesting. Besides, I could always find other, more scientific sources later.
“Do you know what will happen when you die? If you dream of swords and sorcery, of quests and adventure… If you want to live out your days as a Traveler in a strange, new world, a world that goes beyond full immersion, then this is for you. EndWorld Everlasting is a digital afterlife. A world for the… dead.”
A world for the dead? Digital afterlife? I couldn’t believe my eyes. If this was legit, then this could be exactly what I was looking for. I had found the topic for my report. And, I looked at the clock, without a moment to spare.
I scanned the text and then opened another tab.
“EndWorld Everlasting testimonials. How does it work?”
I watched the first short video result and then the second. Family members recounted their experiences with Cyberternal Industries, the company responsible for the afterlife game, and what drew them to EndWorld Everlasting in the first place.
My fingers trembled with excitement. This wasn’t just an amazing topic. If what these people were saying was true, then it really was possible to live for the rest of eternity inside a video game.
If this wasn’t revolutionary, I didn’t know what was. Ha. Watch out, Ms. Nakamoto. This report would be coming in hot.
A sudden flurry of movement grabbed my attention. I glanced back at the primary screen. Individual frames blinked out of existence as the hosts of several camera feeds left the virtual room. Before long, only a sad few remained. Myself included. I stared back at my scrawny self on the video feed and made a show of blowing my hair up off my forehead.
Time had run out. I had made it. The school day was over. The week had finally come to an end. What’s more, I even had the topic for my report. It was a start. I’d have to write the rest before Monday, but at least it was something. Still, I couldn’t log out just yet. Ms. Nakamoto had made it abundantly clear she expected a title selection and an introductory paragraph before the end of the week.
It wasn’t too late. First, I had to come up with a title. Got it. My fingers raced across the keys.
Revolutionary Technology:
EndWorld Everlasting — A Game for the Dead
Perfect. Now for an introductory paragraph.
“Don’t over think this, Zack,” I told myself. “You’re almost there. Just get the words.”
One of the testimonials stuck out in my mind. An older woman sat alone on a couch. Her caramel fingers bulged slightly at the joints as she slowly worked her knitting needles. A tear trickled down her cheek. It was a cinematic masterpiece if I’d ever seen one.
After verifying the mute button was still toggled, I spoke the words as I typed them.
“Technology has long been a tool for unlocking humanity’s limitless potential. When Caitanya Sarin was a child, she dreamed of living forever. After decades of watching her children and their children grow old, after knitting countless garments for her loved ones, her hands ache. She is tired. The pain is now a bitter reminder that forever was a journey too far. We haven’t yet found a way to make Ms. Sarin whole again, but what if technology could give her something else? Something more. What if technology could finally answer the age-old question: What happens when we die?”
A smile crept across my lips. I read the long paragraph again. Silently this time. It wasn’t perfect by any normal standards. In fact, the slurry of words was nothing short of a self-indulgent day dream. It sounded more like a cheesy late night commercial than a research paper.
For as stern as she liked to come across, this was exactly the kind of over-the-top showmanship that Ms. Nakamoto seemed to love. I saved the document and sent the short draft to her inbox.
Objective complete.
Once the email dropped into my sent items folder, I logged out and powered down the terminal.
This was it.
The weekend had finally arrived, and I had a date with Gotherok Castle, deep within the lands of Kingdoms Unbound.
2
I stared at the mirror on my bedroom wall and flexed. Considering my wiry frame, the gesture was nothing short of comical. A goofy smile crept across my lips.
“This isn’t even my final form,” I joked to my reflection, tossing in a wink for good measure. Then I quietly donned the haptic suit that would, in conjunction with my gaming pod, send me to the lands of Kingdoms Unbound.
The suit, complete with built-in muscle contractors and lightweight haptic feedback devices, was meant to simulate inputs from the game. This little bit of technology had been a catalyzing force in the revolution of immersive gaming experiences. My pod was slightly different. With an off-market add-on and a few minor software tweaks I’d downloaded off a little-known code repository, the subtle muscle stimulations the suit provided would increase in intensity.
In theory, the tiny bursts of electrical current would help build muscle in the real world while my Barbarian character smashed heads inside the game. Instead of auto-leveling my character, I was auto-leveling myself.
Ah, yes. The awesome power of gaming.
Cleaned and ready, my immersion pod promised the familiar grip of my battleaxe and, with it, a night of battle against the untamed hordes of the Badlands.
Despite the newness of the latest expansion, I had been logging into Kingdoms Unbound for so long now that it felt like a second home. Unlike in the real world, I felt powerful when I played as the lumbering Barbarian known in-game as BinaryBoy. It was a nickname I’d chosen based on my interest in coding and electrical tinkering. Others had wanted it to mean something else, but I never let that bother me.
Although we were clearly different when it came to physical builds, my character inside the digital world felt like a natural extension of who I was. As strange as that seemed at times.
Thoughts of EndWorld Everlasting invaded my mind and threatened to wear away at the pre-battle serenity I’d worked so hard to achieve. Threads of excitement were quite nearly unraveling my attempts at cultivating a stoic composure.
With all these thoughts of my in-game character, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to play a game as yourself. I mean, really yourself, and not just an avatar or character you created when you first logged in.
The concept wasn’t all that new. People had long been able to customize their avatars, and many chose appearances that were very similar to their own. In fact, other games promised to deliver real-world experiences: logging in as yourself and honing skills you already had or learning new ones as you adventured through imaginative, digital worlds.
