Chronicles of Kharon Vol. 2: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG Adventure (The Saga of Kharon) by Ravenscroft Daisuke

Author:Ravenscroft, Daisuke
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2025-06-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Duel in the Broken Heart

Kaito’s words are a goddamn death sentence. The air freezes. Before I can even process it, a guttural roar shatters the space, an animal sound that makes the ash under my feet vibrate. Ghorak. A mountain of flesh and hate lunges, and his battle axe, a block of black metal that seems to have a thirst of its own, comes crashing down to split my skull.

Time rips apart. Elira is a blur of shadows. Her sword materializes with a sharp hiss, intercepting the axe in a blast that bursts my eardrums and fills my mouth with the taste of metal. The steel screams, protests, bends under the brute force of the beast. The impact throws her backward, her feet digging into the ash, her form flickering like a dying Wi-Fi signal, but she holds. A fucking wall of shadows between his fury and my flesh.

“THE ARCHERS, HIKARU! I’LL HANDLE THIS PIECE OF SHIT ON LEGS! AND YOU’D BETTER NOT DIE!”

Her cry is a whip-crack. The duel of titans erupts, each clash of their weapons a thunderclap that shakes my bones. Meanwhile, the others advance. Dogs of war, with empty eyes and fanaticism etched on their faces. Bolts cut through the air, whizzing past my face with promises of death.

No. Not again. I am not going to be turned into a fucking sieve.

“The party’s just getting started!” my voice is a pathetic squeak, but I move.

The sword feels light. I lunge at the first idiot in my way. The steel sinks into the soft flesh of his throat with minimal resistance. A wet gurgle. Hot, thick blood splatters my face, sticky. Its smell floods my nostrils. He falls, choking, his body emptying onto the ash.

Another advances. I touch his breastplate with the tip of my sword, a pulse of pure intent, a quick debug. The metal buckles with an agonized groan, cracks like ice. The ribs beneath splinter with a dull, wet snap. The man howls, a high-pitched whine as he doubles over, vomiting blood and bile.

But there are too many. The air fills with screams, with the sound of tearing flesh. And Kaito. Fucking Kaito watches. He enjoys it. He smiles as his dogs die, as I struggle to breathe. The son of a bitch smiles.

The air rips beside my ear, a hot whistle promising a hole in my skull. I dive to the ground. I roll. Three of them, reeking of stale sweat and fear, corner me against a monolith. I’m screwed.

Then, hell is unleashed upon them.

An arrow pierces the eye of one of my pursuers. The tip explodes out the back of his skull in a fountain of gray matter, blood, and bone fragments. He drops like a sack of potatoes. Vasha’s axe, a comet of frozen fury, crashes against another’s helmet. The skull gives way with the sound of a cracking eggshell. The body collapses, convulsing.

Lisanne is a phantom. Her daggers are two flashes of silver. One sinks under a jaw, severing the jugular in a crimson geyser.

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