City of Fallen Souls: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 3) by Jez Cajiao (fb2 epub reader .txt) 📕

different colored irises, one blue and one brown. One look at them totally destroyed his illusion. He’d clearly gone to great lengths to look as dull and ordinary as possible, even wearing his hair over his left eye, but the intelligence and cunning shining out of them was unmistakable.

I’d barely noticed him on entry into the room, but now, that fucker needed watching!

“Hi Muskin and Gaion…” I said, greeting them both.

“I’m not a demon,” Gaion said coldly, and I frowned, meeting his eyes.

“Of course you’re not, just like I’m not a fucking horse. What’s your point?” I asked, getting a surprised look from him.

“Most people think I’m a demon when they see my eyes,” he said, appearing to become calmer, and acting intrigued by my response.

“Well, they’re clearly fucking idiots, then,” I said. “It’s a mutation of a gene in your eyes, not because you’re a fucking demon. That’s mental.”

“I’m no mutant,” he growled, and I shook my head.

“Not like that. Look, I haven’t got time to explain this, but where I come from, this kinda thing is well understood. You ever see a ginger kid with parents that have black and blonde hair?” I asked, and he nodded.

“How do you think that happens? It’s a mutation. When the bairn was born, the genes for black hair and blonde both mixed together, so you get a ginger. Doesn’t mean the kid’s any more of a mutant than any other ginger is though, right? Well, your eyes are the same. One color from on parent, one from the other. No magical supernatural shit, just who you are,” I said, tossing it off easily from what I remembered about biology classes. Then I froze, realizing that I was in the goddamn UnderVerse, and the fucker could actually be a damn demon, for all I knew.

“Interesting. I’d like to hear more of this, when you’ve time?” Gaion asked me, and I nodded easily.

“Yeah, no worries. We need to sort something out, and then I’ll need a guide to the healer, okay?” I said, looking to Mal, who glanced at the clock on the stand and grunted.

“You don’t want to be late for her; she’ll chew yer ear off,” he said but settled back down.

“So, first of all, this is Amaat. He’s a Legion scout and commands my little team of sworn Djinn and Alkyon. One of them could probably arrange to get the message back to the Skyking.”

“Okay, sounds good. We’ve got a few hours yet before we need to send out the invites, so I’ll get them knocked up. We’re going to say we’ve caught a few ‘Legion scum’ and they’re going to get what’s coming to them in the arena. Let each of the four gangs pick a fighter to face you in the arena, one at a time. That sound good to you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” I said, a little worried about the kind of people that would choose to go into the arena, but not overly so. They chose this path, so fuck them.

“Okay, so what’s the problem?” Mal asked, and I grinned, hefting my naginata.

“I need a cover or something for this, so I don’t end up chopping bits off people in the streets.”

“Hmmm, could put a sheath around it, I suppose…” Mal said, rubbing his chin, then shrugging noncommittally. “Or just leave it here; I’ll lend you a sword.”

“I’ve got swords, but this is my main weapon. It stays with me,” I said, shaking my head.

“It doesn’t tonight.” He met my eyes. “Legionnaires use swords, shields, spears, maces, and axes, not fucking sword-staffs. You’d never be able to use that in a shield wall, so you’ll have to use something else or nobody will believe you’re Legion.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “Fine. I’ll use my sword tonight, then, but for now, it stays with me.”

“Whatever. Muskin, sort it out, will you?” He dismissed it as unimportant, and Muskin darted out of the room. The furtive man returned a few minutes later with a soft leather sheet that he quickly wound around the blade, drawing it tight and cinching it with leather straps, while we talked quietly.

“Is everything okay out there?” I asked Amaat, and he nodded, gesturing upward.

“It’s been fine, but the Skyking sent some more minions to watch over the Cloudring, since we killed the rest. Now that I’ve broken cover, I’ll be hunted again.”

“Shit, sorry, man,” I said, shaking my head. “I should have thought about that, but unfortunately we needed you down here.” I leaned in, pitching my voice low enough that nobody else could hear but him. “Do you know where Bane and Tang are?”

“They’re close by. Bane is in the courtyard outside, and Tang is back on the roof I just left.”

“Good to know. I need you here, to help Mal sort things out, maybe pick one of the ex-harpies to deliver the invite to the fights, while I find this healer. I’ll not be long, hopefully, and then you can at least get some rest in our rooms.”

“I’d rather return to the Enclave, if you don’t mind? The Legion Provost sent us to help you, or at least to find out what you were… our brothers and sisters deserve to know that there’s some hope.”

“After the healer, I’m heading to a few shops, then onto the Enclave myself. I’d do it the other way around, but I get the feeling that I won’t have any chance for sightseeing on the way back.”

“Then I need to prepare the Enclave for you. Please, my lord?” he said, fixing me with a glare. I sighed. Those damn eagle eyes turned even a simple request into a demand. He had a good point, though.

“Do you think you’ll be able to get back out?” I asked, and he nodded.

“Alone, I probably couldn’t, but with my wing? With their help, I will, and I can bring more from the Legion.” I paused for a minute, then realized his ‘wing’ must be his new flying buddies.

“Okay, Amaat. Get an ex-Harpy down