Last Day Of The Human. Dragon Heart A LitRPG Wuxia Series. Book 20 by Kirill Klevanski

Author:Kirill Klevanski [Klevanski, Kirill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-15T16:00:00+00:00

“All these artifacts,” Arteus whispered softly, tossing bits and pieces of amulets, scrolls, charms, figurines, jewelry, and other gems of the mortal realm into the snow. “None of them work. They have no energy and no Therna.”

Hadjar swore again, this time with more vulgarity.

“The sun, Hadjar,” Arteus pointed to the sun rising behind the mountains. “It is not supposed to rise there.”

“What? Are you mad, wizard? It’s rising in the east, what-”

“That’s northeast,” Arteus interrupted him. “The sun must be somewhere else... Hadjar, what is happening?”

The General cursed for a third time, then tore off his shirt and felt the bite of a ravenous dog on his chest. His skin turned a deep red right before his eyes, and his teeth chattered uncontrollably. It was as if Hadjar did not know how to command the Name of the North, nor did he have the strength to resist the bitter cold. He was no more than a mere mortal.

“This is true weakness,” Arteus clenched and unclenched his fist. “Hadjar, I have never felt so powerless.”

The wizard slowly sank into a state of shock. But that was not surprising. Having been born directly into the ranks of the Heaven Soldiers and having reached the level of a Nameless as a teenager, Arteus hardly understood what it meant to be mortal.

Hadjar, on the other hand, who had lived for three incomplete centuries, was still unaccustomed to the extent of his powers. Perhaps that was for the better.

Realizing that the wizard would be of little help for the foreseeable future, Hadjar carefully tore his shirt to shreds, soaking the fabric generously in boiling water before tending to his wounds. Satisfied that his old army habits were serving him well, he rifled through his belt. Most of the taped pockets and pouches were torn or damaged, having lost their contents after his battle against the Old Man, but a few still remained.

Hadjar pulled out several bundles of herbs, added them to the water, then sprinkled in some powder from a miraculously unbroken envelope.

After stirring the concoction, Hadjar lifted Lathea’s head and dabbed at her lips before carefully opening her mouth and pouring the liquid down her throat. With a gasp, she swallowed, her breathing steadying as the first puff of steam escaped her pale lips.

“We need to find shelter,” Hadjar murmured, tending to Lathea’s wounds with a bandage. “A cave or a crevice. She won’t last long in this cold. The fever will set in, and then...”

He didn’t finish his sentence, nor did he inquire about the whereabouts of Shakh and Albadurt. Life had taught him to deal with the immediate problems first and worry about the rest later.

“Yes,” Arteus nodded hesitantly. “One second...”

He rose to his feet, swung his staff to the side, and chanted a few magic words. For a moment, a golden... no, not a ribbon, but a small spark shone before him. It flew off somewhere behind an icy dune and disappeared.

“What is this...” The wizard gasped heavily, as if that simple search spell had cost him much of his strength.

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