Black Flame in the Barren Steppe: Epic LitRPG (Realm of Arkon, Book 8) by G. Akella

Author:G. Akella [Akella, G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-09-29T04:00:00+00:00

***

Something sharp pinched my cheek. I opened my eyes and stood up slowly. Well, damn. I was standing on a semicircular platform that was divided by an unbroken wall of rolling gray fog. Underneath, I saw stunted vegetation—dirty green grass and twsited, crooked trees creeping along the ground. The platform cut off sharply along the edge, with a vast black surface stretching beyond it. The Dark Ocean? Well, where else would that black ape send me, if not here? The sky was gray as a slab of lead, with no hint of the sun. No wind, no clouds. Everything was quiet, lifeless, motionless. Even the grass and trees seemed like contrived scenery. I didn't have my armor or weapons—my inventory was completely unavailable, like it had been in the vision with Merdoc. I bent down and picked up some of the grass, examining it carefully. Unnatural, sharp edges. My botany skill was non-existent, so I didn’t bother trying to perceive whether it was alive or not. I tossed it to the ground and slowly approached the edge of the cliff, trying to figure out what exactly had happened.

I concluded that the mort knew it didn't have enough time to reach me with its claws, so it had attacked me mentally. Was this a control effect? What was happening in Venern right now? If it was a control effect, the mort would still lose a third of its HP. Primordial Chaos worked the same way on everyone, from a rabbit to a leviathan. And since the mort had already lost fifteen percent of its health, it would be just above half. According to Vaessa, the gods took thousands of years to regenerate their life force. Greater Healing didn't work on them since all those billions of hit points were linked to their astral body. This mort didn’t have its own Helstaad here, and I hoped it never would. Not even the brashest of morons would build temples and altars in this thing’s honor, so restoring its HP would take forever and a half.

So if my reasoning was right, the eight of us sacrificed ourselves to take the dark god down to almost half HP. OK, cool. Death was, of course, rather a negative outcome. Though perhaps in the whole time I had been standing here, only a split second had passed there, or less. I could still feel my left arm, so the fight couldn't be over yet. But what the hell had sent me here? And what was I supposed to do now?

The Dark Ocean was thick and black, with not even the slightest ripple visible on its surface. Just solid, impenetrable blackness. I couldn't even determine how high above it I was. The edge of the platform was six-seven feet thick, at most. It was a piece of land suspended in the air, over the surface of the ocean. I jumped back from the edge and massaged my temples with my fingers. I could feel the inky black abomination dragging me to itself.

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