Battleforged: First Clear: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure - Book 4 by M. H. Johnson

Author:M. H. Johnson [Johnson, M. H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: LitRPG, Post-Apocalytpic Fantasy, Fiction, Action & Adventure
Amazon: B0D3JSVNRX
Published: 2024-07-25T22:00:00+00:00

16

For an endless moment, Eric felt like he was being stretched impossibly thin between worlds, a heartbeat from blipping out of existence entirely, just a flickering spark lost in the vastness of cold, uncaring space.

Then he snapped back into existence with a lurch and a gasp, grateful just to be alive before feeling the crushing weight of gravity more than five-fold Earth’s norm. Gravity and the rotten egg stench that was so acute with his exquisite Perception, other scents and sounds revealed an eyeblink later as his familiar’s screams rang through the air, and Eric realized to his dismay that he hadn’t been teleported back where he had started, but right into the final massive chamber of this Orange-Tier deathtrap of a dungeon. And of course all his chants had been dispelled with the jump between worlds, even if his mind was now as refreshed as if he had slept for a week, all his insights fully processed and absorbed, his potency pools at full, leaving Eric able to appreciate just how utterly screwed he was as he took in the horror of his surroundings. For he now found himself within a massive cathedral-like chamber of obsidian stone absolutely covered in writhing tentacles dripping with caustic fluids, pulsating eyeballs, rustling leaves, and mouths locked in silent screams.

In addition to viney limbs eagerly darting for his legs, Eric spotted multiple massive Lovecraftian tentacles twisting through the air, heading right for his open mouth.

Then it all finally clicked. He recalled where he had seen this nightmare before.

Iaido skill check made!

Fortunately, Eric’s muscle memory overrode even his stunned horror as he cleaved the closest tentacle with technique alone before snapping back into the moment, embracing lessons blazing so fiercely in his mind, his sword truly becoming an extension of himself as it spun and danced through the air, slicing through multiple appendages that came so close to ramming themselves down his throat.

Yet that did nothing for the ones darting for his ankles any more than it had for the hero of a movie that had emblazoned itself upon the collective psyche of Earth a handful of years before, as he was instantly yanked off his feet, head clanging like a gong on the ground, so quickly had he been flipped. Monstrous Vitality was all that allowed him to keep his wits as he spotted the author of the mad cackle echoing endlessly through this cathedral of horrors, with its pulsating vine-like tendrils and far, far too many eyes.

Tendrils of green and purple flesh had somehow transformed from vines and octopean limbs to pulsing veins bringing darkest ichor and sickly-sweet Mana to the gaunt, hairless man dressed in wire-rimmed glasses and a white lab coat of all things. Yet what truly set Eric’s heart pounding with dread was the sight of the madman’s captive as he gazed down at the sterile metallic room in the center of this nightmarish temple.

Because even that was a perfect match.

“Eric! Please don’t let him hurt me!”

His bunny’s plaintive

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