Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story by Kirill Klevanski (ink book reader .txt) 📕

But none of that would happen until the next morning. Until then, the stars would continue to twinkle above the forest of Mons.

***

Ash staggered through the trees, pressing his hand to the wound. He knew that if he pulled out the dagger, life would begin to pour out of him faster than sand from a broken hourglass. Running, he’d sometimes stumble over roots. Tearing his hands on the bark, he kept his weak body on its feet by leaning against trees. He was aware that he wouldn’t get up if he fell. Unfortunately, sometimes, no matter how much one tried, you couldn’t go against the will of the Gods.

Making his way through a bush, Ash realized too late that there was a cliff ahead. He managed to grab onto a branch but only experienced even greater pain when a long, deep cut reddened his palm. He fell, sliding down the slope. With each blow, the dagger sunk deeper into his wound. The agony became so intense that he began to taste metal as blood filled his mouth – he had bitten off the tip of his tongue. After that came a blow that knocked the air out of one lung and filled the other with blood. And then everything calmed down. The sky no longer played tag with the earth and the stars no longer flickered like torches.

Ash lay in a ditch, feeling the grass under his back become wet with blood. Luckily, he didn’t break anything during the fall.

“You’re here,” a gurgling rasp came out of his throat along with blood.

A shadow flickered in the crown of one of the trees looming above and another figure appeared in the ditch. The stranger was a short man, dressed in blue robes and sandals made of wood and hemp rope, but his power was almost palpable. Even the wooden rosary clutched tightly between his thick fingers couldn’t detract from this.

Without knowing why, Ash smiled wryly at the shaven head of the strange man, whose eyes were more like narrow slits and skin the color of amber.

“How did you notice me?” the man asked in a high-pitched, somewhat squeaky voice.

“More like… when,” the young man wheezed, staring into the dark, almost black eyes. “I noticed you… in the shadows… a couple of months ago… You’ve… been following us…”

The man shook his head.

“You. I’ve been following you,” he explained.

Ash fell silent. Spitting blood, he repeated one of Racker’s favorite jokes.

“Sorry, you’re not… my type.”

The man just stared at him.

“You know,” he said, somehow strangely, “I was ordered to kill you. I descended from the mountain, left my brothers and the monastery, traveled through the wildest and most terrible lands, hoping to meet a worthy opponent… I thought that there must’ve been a reason that I went through the trials written in my scroll of destiny by Liao-Feng himself. But what do I see? A brat that hasn’t even lived his twentieth winter.”

“You know,” Ash smirked, surprising himself, “I’m kinda dying here… You better hurry up with… your speeches…”

“I should’ve killed you immediately.” The stranger sighed. “But I changed my mind. I waited and I watched, as the heavenly sage’s commandment dictated. I longed to see the darkness in your heart, but instead I saw nothingness. I should’ve killed you, but I kept watching.”

“You really… like talking,” Ash wheezed, feeling his legs going cold. “Just like… my teachers…”

“Well, I was awarded for my patience,” the man continued, ignoring Ash’s dying comments. “I’ve watched you bloom like a flower. I saw how you saved the foal, how you put the comb in the girl’s hand, how you fed the children, and how you freed the prisoners. At that moment, I realized that I had no right to judge someone who hasn’t been born yet. That’s why, by the wisdom of Liao-Feng, I grant you a possibility of rebirth. Or, if you’d like, a quick death.”

The stranger leaned down, placing a sinewy hand on the young man’s chest. He uttered something Ash didn’t understand and stared into his eyes.

“If you don’t feel pain, I’ll kill you. If you survive what’s to follow, you just may be able to live. Prepare.”

A soft, white light enveloped his palm.

“The Art of Mok-Pu: Resonance!”

Chapter 35

22nd day of the month of Zund, 322 A.D., Age of the Drunken Monk, Forest of Shadows

“I t’s sure taking a while,” Blackbeard muttered, watching Ash raise a shield over their campsite.

For half an hour, the young mage had been drawing a circle on the ground around their camp with his staff. All this time, the rest of the squad was on guard, covering him in case something happened. They had to remain huddled inside the circle, however, as Ash needed a reference point of its center. If he made a mistake by a couple of degrees, he’d have to do everything all over again. Mary couldn’t take that risk – it was already way too late in the evening, so she did her best to make sure everything went smoothly. The rest of the squad expressed their dissatisfaction by mumbling under their breaths.

They all wanted to finally go to bed. The last few days had passed without incidents, but the Forest wasn’t a place for a picnic. People who found themselves here would often begin to think and do things that would normally seem impossible to them. This was often blamed on the oppressive atmosphere, eternal darkness, and the dancing shadows, which wasn’t far from the truth, but there was far more to it.

Ash joined the lines and stood in the center, smiling as he squeezed himself between Lari and Tul. He then closed his eyes and began to speak in a hushed voice. His friends couldn’t hear the Words he spoke, just watch as his lips moved silently. Sometimes, Ash would