Savage Dominion: A LitRPG Adventure by Luke Chmilenko & G. D. Penman

Author:Luke Chmilenko & G. D. Penman [Chmilenko, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wraithmarked Creative, LLC
Published: 2021-01-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

The pyramid lit up. Without that little flicker of shadow inside it, the magic seemed to hit critical mass. It shone brighter and brighter and brighter until me, the svart, the whole city vanished in the glow. It was only at the last moment before the whole world faded away that I remembered nuclear reactors have control rods jammed in them to keep the reaction inside under control. Had I just pulled the wizards and elves version out of this big nuke? The pin out of the grenade?

Falling forward, I touched the crystal beneath me, just to prove to myself it was still there, and the arrow with my name on it zipped by over my head. As fast as the light had come, now it died, not back to darkness, but to a solid impenetrable white. Not only was the pyramid perfect once more, but the whole city, one great magical circuit, was also lit up to exactly the same level, no longer pulsing or dazzling or anything else. Just solid light.

The only dark thing on the pristine white beneath me was the iron hunk I’d hauled out of the pyramid. It looked like it had a sharp tip on it. Maybe it would serve as a dagger if I didn’t have the time to shape it. Gods knew, the svart was quick enough that it probably wouldn’t give me a chance.

But the svart that had seemed so intent on ruining my day had stopped dead. The bow had fallen from her hands, and her arms dangled limply at her sides. Her head was thrown back like a howling wolf, and the garbled gibberish that the svart spoke transformed as I looked on in horror into a bellow of, “NO!”

It was perfectly clear and easy to understand, which was weird, but not nearly as weird as what happened next.

When her head fell forward again, those beady black eyes changed. Her whole face changed. Her body too. The long gangly limbs smoothed out into the kind of anorexic elegance that runway models back home used to pursue. The transparent, spring-roll skin which had been so twisted and sickly took on a new hue, a new vigor—it was like watching a corpse coming back to life. The flopping ears and the stretched face snapped back into their true, elegant place. The corruption that pumped through the svart’s veins was being purged. The black lines of her veins faded, and a hint of pink flushed her as she fell to her knees.

I wasn’t idle through all of this. Bizarre as the scene in front of me was, this was still an opportunity to get out of this alive. Fumbling around at the backs of my knees, with my ass stuck up in the air, I managed to find the arrowheads where they were jutting out. Pulling them through hurt. It was right up there with being mauled by a wolf or being bitten by a spider god, yet when I yanked them free and my blood started to flow, relief was the most powerful sensation.

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