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

my practice earlier today. Then, it had been a training field, somewhere I could focus and improve; now, it was more. Now, it was a place of death and glory. Blood had been spilled already in the warmup fights, and sand had been kicked over it, but the stains were still obvious.

The walls were made of bars twisted together, and hundreds of spectators clung to them, obscuring the seats , and all of them howling for blood. The upper third of the arena had been set aside for the private booths, and I felt a moment of nostalgia as I remembered the arena that I’d fought in to come to the UnderVerse.

God, I’d have loved to see their faces, if I’d been the man I was now when I fought there. I’d have torn the damn place down around their ears.

I locked eyes on Oracle and Mal, nodded once, then banished everything from my mind besides the pale-skinned fuck that stood on the other side of the arena, facing me.

Golmar was taller than me, nearly nine feet, I guessed, with long blond hair and huge mustachios that curled upwards. He was heavily muscled, but I suspected he’d be fast for all of that, and his wings were huge. The white-blond feathers jutting from his back invoked memories of artistic depictions of the classical angels in holy scripture. The similarity ended there, though, as he swore at me, his pointed teeth and malevolent glare making it clear he wasn’t one of the ‘good guys.’ I couldn’t decide whether those teeth made him uglier than the grey-blue fucker I’d fought in the weaver’s shop. His armor consisted of golden bracers and shin guards, with a waist wrap in the style of the ancient pharaohs, and he was surprisingly naked from the waist up.

He held a single huge sword in his right hand, clenching and reclenching his left fist as he growled at me in clear hatred. I grinned at him, stepping forward again, and I shrugged my shoulders, reveling in the feel of my armor following my movements perfectly.

I drew my gladius from its sheath, slapping the blade against the front of my shield three times, making the arena echo with the metallic clangs.

“You dare to make me wait, mortal?” he screamed at me, slamming his wings down and hurtling across the arena even before the announcer could speak. He swung his huge sword down with a blow that would have cut me in half… had it landed. I grinned inside my helmet, rolling to the left and coming up under his powerful swing. I flicked my blade out and drew a line of blood from his back, managing to catch the bottom of his right wing before he hit me with the flat of his blade and sent me flying.

I hit the ground, rolled again, and sprang back up, noting pain from the blow, but nowhere near as much as I expected. I grinned again, loving the feeling of such well-fitted armor.

“You think this is funny?” Golmar screeched, spinning his blade around and glaring at me. “The Skyking has decreed your death, fool, and I have been sent to make that order a reality!”

“That’s nice,” I called out. “And did the Skyking send you some help?”

“I need no assistance!” he bellowed, slamming his wings down again and covering the distance between us. This time, I didn’t dodge. I angled my shield like Augustus had shown me, and I grunted under the strain as I deflected the sword to the side, causing the heavy blade to sink into the sand. =I took advantage of my opponent’s temporary immobility and stabbed out, the tip of my gladius sinking deep into Golmar’s upper right arm and cutting free the bicep.

He screamed, pain and fury echoing around the space, and he grabbed me by my upper right arm with his massive left land, yanking me from my feet.

“Die, mortal!” he snarled, opening his jaws impossibly wide. I saw a forked tongue flicker over his pointed, foul-looking teeth, and I dropped my sword and shield, grunting at the pain of his crushing grip even through my armor.

I struck out, my left hand stiffened into a solid bar of bone, reinforced by the gauntlets, and I sank two of my fingers in good and deep on either side of his nose. I wasn’t aiming for his mouth; hell, no.

I drove my rigid fingers into his eyes, using the momentum of his pull and all the force I could bring to bear, in order to gouge out both of his eyes.

He screamed in a mixture of horror and agony and dropped me, his hand going to his face as I landed hard. I rolled and swept up both my sword and shield, then snorted at his screams.

“This is from Nerin…” I growled as I lashed out, hamstringing his left leg. The blinded Promethean spun around, staggering and disoriented.

“This is from me…” I shouted, hacking through his right wing, and sending his screaming, mangled form to the floor.

“And this is from the LEGION!” I roared as I sliced horizontally, beheading him in one swift move.

The crowd went silent as the massive Promethean’s body fell to the floor, blood fountaining from his severed arteries. I turned, looking up at them.

“You all came here for blood!” I roared, my anger clear. “You came to see the Legion humbled, hurt, and killed! You won’t! Not now, not ever!” I slammed my blade against my shield again, hard, making the clash of metal ring out across the frozen arena.

“LEGION!” I bellowed and smashed my blade against my shield again, shouting louder. “LEGION!” I repeated, catching the Legionnaires grinning and watching me through the bars of the door to my ‘rest room.’

“Fuck it if they can’t take a joke…” I muttered, then I threw my head back and shouted out to all those watching. “Who’s next?” Silence filled the air as the spectators gaped at me, stunned. “Come on, then! I SAID, WHO’S NEXT!”

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