Death Cultivator 2 by eden Hudson

Author:eden Hudson [Hudson, eden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: MMO litRPG role playing steampunk quest gamelit, men&#8217, s adventure video game adaptations young adult, coming of age sword sorcery dungeon core demon, action dark epic metaphysical vengeful myth asian, Chinese manga wuxia xianxia martial arts kung fu, supernatural fantasy magic occult legends thriller
Publisher: Shadow Alley Press
Published: 2020-11-23T16:00:00+00:00

First Win

“I GIVE!” YOKI BARKED, terrified whites showing all around his brown dog-eyes. His huge hands were covered in giant Hulk-fists of boulder, but he was holding them up defensively. “I quit! You win!”

“Match!” the announcer’s voice boomed ecstatically through the arena’s speaker system. “Winner—Grady Hake, one win, one loss!”

It took a second for me to realize what was going on. I’d won...somehow. I knew I should be surprised, but the oblivion and nothingness blanketed my emotions like a warm hoodie.

The ground rumbled as the boulder field sank back into the arena floor.

“It’s over, I gave up!” Yoki yelled, practically begging now. “Don’t kill me!”

This giant monster of a guy was scared of me. A tingle of emotion got through the oblivion then. I didn’t recognize it, but its presence made the nothingness slip through my fingers. The Spirit cloak disappeared.

I dropped the Death Metal shield and opened my fist so that the scythe ripped back into my skeleton. I had to grit my teeth so I wouldn’t scream in front of the guy I’d just—somehow—beaten, but I had just enough oblivion left floating around the edges to keep my cool.

I backed off a step and offered the jackal a hand up.

He flinched, big ears flattening and teeth baring in a silent growl.

“Good fight,” I said even though I had no idea. I just wanted to make sure he knew I wasn’t going to kill him.

Yoki hesitated. A little shudder went through his roid-rager muscles. He stood up on his own.

“You’re a lot tougher than you look, meat roach,” he growled, dusting off his stone mail skirt and shaking himself off like a wet dog. He grabbed my hand in a grip like a bear trap and bowed to me. “Good fight.”

I returned the bow. Yoki headed for the locker room doors, and I went back up the steps into the stands. The announcer called the next bout, and two more fighters took our place.

Blood and sweat dripped off my chin onto my shirt and oozed down the back of my throat, reminding me about my broken nose. With the back of one sweaty fist, I scrubbed the blood away. The healing elixir was still in my pocket, so at least I hadn’t used it up during the match this time. I dropped into a cushioned seating box and gulped it down.

What happened? I asked Hungry Ghost.

Later, he croaked weakly. Drained.

A fist thumped into my shoulder. “That was savage, grav.”

Warcry plopped into the box next to me, and Kest stepped over our legs to sit on my other side.

“Have you been working on some new techniques?” she asked. “A lot of those attacks were different from what you usually use.”

“Different?” I asked, hoping she’d go into detail.

“The grav’s been watching Battles of the Ancients, haven’t ya?” Warcry said. “That style was straight outta their reenactments—but without the ponser actors making it look all dainty and choreographed. Proper brutal was what it was.”

I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe some of the blood off my face.

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