Author's Nightmare 2: A Grimdark Isekai LitRPG by Ian B. Urns & A. C. Erinle

Author:Ian B. Urns & A. C. Erinle [Urns, Ian B. & Erinle, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Podium Publishing
Published: 2025-10-28T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Beam's POV: Day 84

Current Wealth: 299 gold, 30 silver, 41 copper

Argar strode out like he owned the place, armor glinting in the high sun, giant body almost silencing the crowd with its sheer scale. I wasn’t entirely surprised. God only knew what kind of awe a man his size would evoke in people who fell short of even average Americans by a good few inches.

His opponent, by contrast, was … less impressive. Not a short man, by Redaclan standards, but far from tall. He strolled out in a heavy gambeson with a shield on one arm and a shortspear in the other. Even beneath the thick armor I could tell he was built, broad, almost box shaped. Whatever musculature was going on under those clothes, it probably left him even heavier than I was.

Which wasn’t to say he had as much mass as Argar was bringing to the table, maybe not even half as much. The giant would’ve outweighed his armored body even while facing it naked, and I wasn’t certain the axe he had resting across one shoulder could even have been swung with the smaller man’s strength. But builds could be deceptive. I had to remember that.

Redaclan rules were in play here. For all I knew the Soldier was—

“Level eleven,” Shango said from behind me, sounding almost bored. “Strength eleven, Speed nine, Dexterity seven, Stamina twelve, Toughness eleven, Alertness nine, Charisma five, Intelligence five.”

He was bored, eyeing the Soldier, because of course he was. The ability to look at a person and boil their abilities down into a list of numbers did have a way of killing the fucking suspense in a situation.

“Is that the farthest you’ve ever used it from?” Solitaire cut in. Shango blinked.

“Oh, shit, yeah.” He grinned. “Guess my range is over … uh …”

“Ninety-two meters,” Solitaire replied, wiping Shango’s grin away.

“Let’s watch the match,” he grumbled.

It was a good thing he grumbled it when he did, too, because if he hadn’t, we might’ve missed the fucking thing. Argar moved in quick and heavy as a stampeding ox, axe coming down with so much force that I actually worried for a moment that he’d fucking kill the poor enemy in that single swing. He didn’t, though, shield rising up just in time to meet the edge.

Wood splintered and cracked, steel biting through a centimeter, then an inch. A jagged split ran up and down from the point of contact, almost reaching the iron rim, and I watched as the smaller man stumbled back.

He might’ve tried to stop a speeding motorcycle and kept his balance better. Argar roared, grabbing his weapon with both hands, tightening his fists, and pulling.

For one moment I thought the Soldier might manage to hold himself in place. Then Argar’s motion was completed, and the man simply came uprooted in an instant. Feet plucked off the floor, body lurching forward into a stumble as his shield dragged him after it. He was smart, though, and turned that momentum into a stab

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