Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (black authors fiction txt) 📕

Slip recovered faster than the others, wiping the blood from his face and baring his bloody teeth in rage. He aimed and fired at me almost as a reflex. A bright green glow appeared around his bow, bringing a torrent of wind to the tip of his arrow. He’d activated Whisper of the Wind and fired. His arrow sped forward as if propelled by a hurricane, accelerating it so fast it was a blur as it raced toward me.

Trusting my instincts, I threw myself to the side, hoping I wasn’t about to end up with a hole in my chest. My instincts were right, but I wasn’t quick enough to dodge it altogether. It left a ragged tear through my left bicep, spilling blood down my arm.

As the pain roared up my arm, I looked down to see the arrow had torn through even my Exoskeleton. Shit! He got through my Exoskeleton. Not good. Something that didn’t go unnoticed. Slip grinned darkly. “Looks like you bleed like the rest of us mortals, after all, freak!”

He dropped his bow and drew his twin daggers, rushing me while Wolf and Darren stayed behind, Darren because he was still cleaning blood off himself, but Wolf was watching the show with a calmness about him, which unnerved the hell out of me. What is his deal?

I had to tune him out as Slip attacked, focusing my attention on dodging the rapid strikes.

Slip was true to his namesake and was as fast as any high-leveled rogue I’d ever faced before. Might even be on par with Wilson. I’d spent hundreds of hours dueling Wilson, though all that practice was a double-edged blade. Capable of harming me just as easily as it could help me. Spending so much time fighting a single person meant I was tuned to how Wilson fought. If I try and let muscle memory take over, I’ll find myself with a few new holes.

Our dance went over and over—dodge, dodge, parry, and counter. Slip was indeed quick, but I still held far more Agility than any ordinary warrior. That and my decades of training were the only things keeping me alive.

If Slip had any abilities he could use in direct combat, I’d have died within the first minute. Good thing stealth skills are useless in a straight-up fight. I kept my footwork light and mobile, not risking standing still for a second. The grass beneath our feet tore free from the ground as we trampled it over and over. Keeping Slip at bay meant I couldn’t go on the offensive. We’d been dancing for only a minute now, and unless something changed, I was going to lose. Slip was too fast.

I need to act now if I have any chance of surviving.

I stopped moving, giving Slip an opening to attack me, and he did not disappoint. As soon as Slip thrust with his twin daggers, I moved into his space, putting myself off balance and doing pretty much everything Evelyn taught me not to when in close combat if you wanted to stay alive. Here we go!

It was a suicidal tactic; either I would get lucky, or Slip’s knives would skewer me. His blades sailed towards my chest, I took one in the shoulder, and another stuck into my ribs. Damn, that stings! Hopefully, he didn’t nick anything vital. I’d find out if my health bar plummeted.

Thankfully it hit low yellow and went no further. A large pool of blood formed at my feet, but I ignored the pain and brought my knee into his solar plexus, crushing the air from his lungs.

Slip doubled over, but remained standing, coughing a large amount of blood onto the grass. Bloody drool dripped from his mouth as he stood. Must have caused some organ damage, maybe broke a couple of lower ribs. I charged him before he could regain his composure, but pain from behind me brought me to my knees.

Without looking, I swept my leg out and caught my assailant on the shin, sending him tumbling to the ground. Wolf crashed into my vision, grinning a sick smile. Even though my kick should have fractured his leg, he rose with ease. Warmth poured down my back as I got to my feet. What the hell did he hit me with?

I received an answer a second later, as Wolf’s hands were encased in ice. Each finger formed a long, deadly claw. Frost Talon? So, Wolf is an ice mage, but why use that spell? Fog rose off them and hissed as my blood ran down his fingers, staining them a sticky red. Most ice mages hated it since close combat wasn’t their specialty. Whatever the reason, Wolf had turned a useless spell into a deadly style of fighting.

His eyes held a perverse glee at the sight. He grinned and let his true self out to play, bringing his hand up to lick my blood.

“The fuck are you doing?”

Wolf laughed, a sick, twisted laugh that revolted me. “Your blood tastes foul, human. Sickening,” he spat, trying to remove the taste.

My back ached, throbbing with every pulse of blood that spilled from my open wounds, slipping down to coat my hand a warm red. I stood, and ice cracked sharply, letting more blood flow down my back. Wolf was on me as soon as I was able to stand, raking at me with his claws. I moved but was hurt; the loss of blood and the pain made me slow.

I blocked his next strike with my forearm, only to have Wolf claw it open. Four long gashes ripped apart my flesh, they were deep and should have been spurting blood, but they weren’t. Ice formed inside the wounds, spreading out and covering my skin.

Frostbite! Shit! Of course, he’d have that passive ability. Need to end this quick, longer we fight, the more it’ll spread. I ignored