Warsinger by James Baldwin (most important books of all time txt) 📕

Jacob drew himself up. “If you hadn’t come here looking for us, we wouldn’t have to P.K you. But we can, you know. We can kill you and all of your friends, permanently.”

“You spawned that fucking Admin sword?” I couldn't control myself any more. “That fucking player killer weapon?”

“Don't kid yourself,” Jacob sniffed. “We can't 'spawn' anything like that. We cached some and some other stuff items ages ago, in case we ever needed them. You know... in case of you-know-who.”

“He's not Voldemort, you little shitwipe. His name was Michael.” Nicolas began to laugh. “Or Ororgael, if you want to stick with the lore. But that guy’s history, so now, they're all for Suri. There's more where those came from, baby.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you people?” I regarded the pair in disbelief. “That assassin you sent fucked up, and he nearly PK’d me. You're talking about killing people. Real people. Not anime NPC bullshit. Actual fucking people.”

“Oh? You didn’t know?” Nicolas pulled his head back, like he'd just smelled something bad. “Princess over there is some Pacific Alliance brain rip. She's just test data. The US military uses that same rip all the time for their sims.”

Suri pulled her axes from her belt, and flipped them over in her hands.

“We got her kind to thank for HEX,” Jacob said. His thin voice had a nasty overtone to it now, sugary and venomous.

Karalti growled, stepping up to Suri's left. Behind us, I saw Davri stand.

“Sit the fuck down, Davri,” I snapped.

“Oh! It speaks Dakhari.” She clapped her hands. “Well, it's useless. While you were talking, the Sultir's soldiers have been taking position outside. Apparently, some Fireblooded terrorist massacred two score witchhunters in Martyr's Square. A terrible crime, nothing we want in our city. So, if you'll excuse me.”

I pulled the Spear out of my Inventory and into a fighting stance. The Mark of Matir flared on the back of my hand, drawing the cold, shaking anger out of my body and channeling it into a pillar of black fire that roared to life along the blade and haft of the weapon. “You're not excused.”

Jacob cringed, but Nicolas roared with laughter. “Aww man, look at this. A white knight necromancer? Now I’ve seen everything.”

I didn’t know what level these two were, but I knew they were higher than us. No fewer than four turrets were mounted in this hall, and the compound outside was full of cartel guards and royal soldiers. Even so, we had no choice: all we could do now was fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no, I disagree. You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Suri left off her sword and drew her axes instead, flipping them over in her hands. “You might have made this place, but according to Hector here, you’re stuck in Archemi and can’t get back to your world. And you know what that means, don’t you? I’m not locked in here with you fuckers. You’re locked in here with me.”

She activated her Rage ability, stripping her armor down. I boosted myself with Mantle of Night, and darted forward at my full enhanced speed.

“ALA’VORTHIS!” Nicolas boomed, throwing up a hand.

[Nicolas tha Giant casts Antimagic Sphere!]

“What are you-!” Davri shrieked as the antimagic field swept over us. It was all she got out before my dragon exploded.

Chapter 42

Karalti roared as her body suddenly turned incandescent, then violently reverted back to dragon form. Davri’s house was definitely not dragon-sized, and the sudden release of Karalti’s spell burst out with a magical shockwave that tore apart the flimsy slum adobe walls and drove us to the ground. My hearing cut into a thin whine as the sound and pressure blew out my eardrums with a sharp head-splitting pain.

[Warning! Mana levels are dangerously high!]

[Warning: You are suffering from mana poisoning! -5 HP per second!]

[You take 338 concussive damage!]

[Karalti takes 1010 explosive damage!]

[Karalti has Internal Bleeding!]

[Karalti is Lacerated! -1 HP and -5 MP per second!]

We were lucky to be as close to Karalti as we were. When I uncovered my head, I found her standing over us, shielding me, Suri, and Vash from the collapsing ceiling. The main building was now a smoldering shell on one side, the side that opened into the first courtyard. A small army was pouring into the courtyard: Sandstriders, quazi, hookwings…

Jacob gave a girly shriek and ran for the door, only to skid to a stop as the arch and the walkway above it collapsed with a crash. Nicolas’s brick-shaped face was a mask of shock – and he didn’t react in time as Suri bellowed a war-cry and charged him.

I pulled myself up, searching for Vash. He was coughing violently, his mechanical arm sagging by his side. Suri had some resistance to mana and was immune to Stranging, but Vash was not. I left the girls to fight and scrambled over to him.

“Come on!” I hauled up under his shoulder and half carried, half dragged him away from the mana gushing from Karalti’s neck. The dragon roared again, drowning out the sounds of battle as Suri clashed with Nicolas. When Vash was out of the way, he gave me the thumbs up. I left him to recover and dashed back in.

“Hey! You!” Davri screamed at me on the way past. She was trapped beneath a heavy hardwood beam, crushed into the remains of her throne. Blood poured from her mouth as she struggled to free herself. “Get me out of here! Get me out!”

I stopped, and looked down at her.

Davri was the picture of a weeping damsel in distress now, her voice quavering on every word. “You! Please, I beg you, get me out! I’ll give you whatever you want! Whatever you need! Money, women-”

“The location of Sachara’s Tomb,” I said.

The woman forced a chuckle. “Is that what this was all about? Does that big brawny b-bitch want to become queen so badly? Or… is it you? Is power is what you want? Ha-ha-haa… clever man.