The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (top books to read TXT) 📕

I plopped down, submerged into ellurite, and kept sinking, trying to find an anchor with my hands and feet. Caught in the viscous liquid, I floundered, drowning under my own weight. Worst thing was, the combat log burst into a series of messages about one-point damage. Ellurite was extremely toxic, able to corrode even the Ancients’ alloy. Its damage might be low, but the Colossus’ surface was vast, and it kept stacking up. The giant’s health bar that had seemed infinite slowly started to dwindle.

So what was I to do? Ananizarte outplayed me. I couldn’t get out. I had no choice and no time, and so, I pressed “Exit”, releasing the Colossus’ body that had served me for a spell. Rest in peace.

* * *

I opened my eyes to once again see the interwoven network of glowing magicables on the ceiling of the Ziggurat. I removed the control band from my head and moved my hands and feet, getting accustomed to my own body. Getting back was weird. For instance, I still felt like I was able to smash down the wall in front of me with my fist.

The raid was dead, my icon the only green in the sea of black portrains. The Courier chatroom buzzed with dozens of voices, but I consciously turned the sound off. I couldn’t allow any distractions. The battle wasn’t over yet.

Deep inside of me glimmered a faint hope that after slaughtering the Watchers and destroying the Colossus, Ananizarte wouldn’t sense me and would crawl back to lick her wounds. In the meantime, I would finish what I had started — the Crystal of Negation was almost demolished, only a little bit of it left.

I cautiously peeked out of the arrowslit to see that my hope was in vain. She had found me. The goddess was currently walking toward me, crossing the boundary of the Ziggurat’s aggro radius. Limber metallic bodies dashed after her: two Steel Predators leaped up, their jumps long and swift. I squeezed my fists.

No. No use. I didn’t get what she did, but the first guardian fell to pieces while in the air, as if sliced by an invisible blade capable of cutting metal as easily as scissors cut paper. The second predator was shot point-blank by a burst of dark fire and got thrown back, stopping dead in a smoking heap. Ananizarte took down the second line of the attackers — spiders and gladiators — as quickly as the first one. They didn’t have a chance; her strikes were fatal. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine.

What could a player do against an entity of such power? Nothing, even with the flaming sword. Nothing at all. I checked the cooldown of Blazing Warrior and gritted my teeth — there were still twenty-nine minutes left. I was out of Lightnings as well. So what was I to do?

Having destroyed the Ancients’ guardians, Ananizarte created a sphere of crimson flame in front of her as she walked. Startled, I drew back from the arrowslit, as it was aimed right at me.

A heavy blow shook the Ziggurat. The blue veil of the Dome covering the windows blinked and faded away. The next blow wasn’t long in coming. The roof above my head consisting of massive black plates was torn off and blown away. Half of the walls were destroyed, and everything around was strewn with rubble. Less than two feet away from me, completely black flames greedily devoured the edra throne that dissolved right before my eyes.

Mocking laughter came from outside. I realized that the next blow would bury me together with the Ziggurat and straightened up. Aelmaris left its sheath. With a leap, I crossed the remains of a destroyed wall, moving to the top layer and trying to locate Ananizarte.

Just a minute before, she had been downstairs, but there she was, just a few feet away.

She was tall and thin. Her black hair streamed down her shoulders, and her eyes burned with an arrogant gaze. It was a beautiful sight. Her health bar was yellow; she had less than half of her hit points left and probably no mana. Maybe I stood a chance, after all? In any case, it was worth a try.

“One of the Seven, you are a fool!” Ananizarte said, staring at Aelmaris. “Your master is here. I can smell that coward. He won’t help you. All he will do is watch you die!”

“Are you sure I need his help?” I replied. “After all, it’s not like I didn’t give your hide a good tanning...as the Colossus!”

The goddess’ eyes narrowed. She understood me. By the way she moved her hand and turned her body, I predicted where she would strike, guessing her timing down to a second. I replied with Counter Parry.

Boom! Aelmaris buzzed angrily, having almost been knocked from my hand, and I was thrown back several steps — that’s how powerful her blow was. Apparently, the sword itself helped me out, having sensed a worthy adversary.

“A good weapon!” Ananizarte nodded. “But my Raghel isn’t any worse.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t compare swords?” I said, breathing out.

Once again, she waved her hand, and a silver fleck shone in the air with a swoosh. The invisible blade started its deadly path. I focused. Now or never!

Shadow Step! I vanished, sinking into the dull grey plane of Shadow, the other side of that world. The ability of the cloak given to me by Tormis worked perfectly. Ten seconds to exit in an unexpected spot and deal a sudden blow!

But Ananizarte was present in the Shadow Plane as well. I saw her as a colossal tower woven from swirling darkness. The white flame of the invisible sword was still closing in on me. A moment before my death, I managed to get a good look at it: it was