Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story, Kirill Klevanski [great reads .TXT] 📗

of being an “earth-splitting attack” but it was still worthy of its rightful place in history.

Lari was breathing heavily and a trickle of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. However, this time, he got out without broken bones, torn ligaments, or cut skin. His training hadn’t been in vain.

“Raise your shoulder!” Blackbeard shouted, voice more high-pitched than normal.

Still shouting, Blackbeard charged. Dragon’s Wing turned into a transparent, shimmering face of a bear.

Running through the snow at a speed unusual for someone of his build and seemingly impossible to achieve in full armor, he leaped at his opponent. Ash had no doubt that the defender had used some sort of skill to boost his speed even though he had never heard of anyone doing something like this.

With a final battle cry, Blackbeard collided with the Giant, whose wounded leg had been cut off by Lari a moment ago. There was a dull, slurping sound, and then the Giant swayed and lost its balance. Showering them with snow, rocks, and ice it fell with a roar into the gorge. Its cry echoed through the air for a long time.

Ash stood with his mouth wide open.

The Stumps certainly deserved the reputation that they had been given and which was often used as an example of what real adventurers should be like. When Lari had ridden that arrow in the Forest, Ash thought that it was nothing more than a farce. But seeing Blackbeard defeat a Giant with nothing more than his shield... He was just glad that his companions were much stronger than he had thought.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Blackbeard spat and grinned.

The Stumps smiled victoriously and congratulated each other. No one seemed to care that their victory was a Pyrrhic one. Sure, the Giant was dead, but with it were gone its icy tears that could be sold ten gold per ounce.

“Luck is on our side!” Tul slapped Lari on the back, and moved the quiver away from Mary so that she wouldn’t be able to count just how many expensive arrows had been lost in the fight against the Giant. In pursuit of profit, she’d go against the king himself and even demand that he paid her back with interest.

“A strange kind of luck,” Ash drawled, scratching his nonexistent beard.

“What do you mean?” Blackbeard poked him in the side and began to brush snow off the bags.

“I think that you’re wasting your time.”

“What?”

Before Ash could answer, another rumble reached their ears. This time, however, it wasn’t the Giant. An avalanche descended from the mountains, carrying with it not only ice and snow, but also rocks.

Mary shouted something, but it was drowned out by the growing roar, which was more terrible than thunder in the most turbulent storm. Blackbeard was the first to react. Grabbing his friends, he threw them into the snow, and raised the shield above his head. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop the avalanche, but the least he could do was cover the Stumps with a dome.

With their heads lowered and chins pressed tightly to their chests, they folded their arms to their sides, pulled their knees to their stomach, and braced themselves for the snow and cold. Time passed as if in slow-motion. Their hearts beat faster and faster, waiting for the terrible blow.

But it didn’t come.

Chapter 51

A lice was the first to raise her head, and what she saw would forever be etched in her memory. Ash stood in front of the flood of snow, his figure shimmering with either magic or the play of light and shadow. He thrust his staff forward and sent torrents of fire crashing down on the avalanche. Like breakwater, they cut through the white sea, preventing it from touching the travelers. Crimson collided with the blinding white, but the hiss of the flames wasn’t heard. Perhaps it was the pounding of blood in her temples and the grinding of both Ash and Blackbeard’s teeth that drowned them out.

Soon, all was quiet. Only the ignorant believed that the avalanche raged longer than a couple of moments. It descended rapidly, forever changing the scenery of the mountain slope.

“How...?” Mary whispered, perplexed, shaking the snow off herself and looking longingly at the buried path.

Ash, taught by bitter experience, had already prepared an excuse. With a feigned, but quite authentic sorrow, held out his hand, showing his companions a handful of ash.

“Another one, gone!” he sobbed, wiping his hand on his pant leg. “Flaming Rickets gave it to me himself! Don’t ask me why, I ain’t gonna tell you. I’m in a bad mood today.”

With that, he sniffled, blinked away an actor’s tear, and turned away, leaning on his staff.

“Actually, I was going to ask how you’re doing.” Mary sighed.

“No better than a corpse.”

There was silence.

“What?” Tul asked after a moment.

Ash shrugged.

“I don’t know. That’s what my friend says. She constantly compares how she feels to a corpse.”

“What’s her name?” Lari asked, but immediately faded under Alice’s displeased squint.

Ash turned and looked at the snowmen shaking themselves off, gradually turning into the people he knew. If he told them that the phrase belonged to Kessa the Unarmed, they’d either laugh or tell him that he’s a liar.

“That’s for me to know and for you to never find out!” he exclaimed proudly.

“Are you going to keep talking, or are we going to get back to business?” Mary asked, exasperated, making them all fall silent immediately. No one wanted to anger the already annoyed Mary, famous for her hot temper and quick hand. “Tul?”

Ash whistled, amazed by the hunter’s quick wits. While everyone was talking, driving away the tension, he managed to run through the snow around the turn and have a look around. On his way back, he had some news to