Novels by AMAYI

"If you mix that swamp-pig fat directly with the silver-leaf thyme, the acid in the plant will curdle the animal grease," Logan said calmly. "It will feel cold on the skin for ten minutes. Then the trapped moisture will rot the dead flesh underneath. Within twenty-four hours, the patient will have black gangrene in the marrow."Sophia froze. Her jaw dropped slightly. "How... how do you know that?" she asked, her voice dropping into stunned disbelief. "My system recipe says [Combine Cleansing Herb with Animal Lipid for Level 1 Burn Dressing]. It doesn't say anything about curdling acid!""The system gives you a title and an icon," Logan replied, his eyes steady on hers. "It doesn't understand the chemistry of spoiled fat. If you want that salve to heal without rotting the bone, grind two spoonfuls of dry river chalk into the grease first. The alkaline chalk neutralizes the plant acid. It keeps the fat clean while the thyme draws out the heat."Sophia stood in the dim light, her breath

The waterfall roared like a falling mountain, curtaining the mouth of the narrow cave in a sheet of white foam and cold mist.Logan stumbled through the curtain, his boots catching on a slippery, moss-covered ridge of stone. He hit the damp ground on his right shoulder, rolling once to absorb the fall before his breath caught in his throat.A wave of blinding fire surged through his left arm.The burned skin from his wrist to his elbow was gray, cracked, and weeping clear fluid. The cold river water that had soaked his jacket only made the scorched flesh throb with a deep, sickening pulse. His ribs ached from the shockwave of Christian’s firebolts, and the sulfur dust coated the back of his tongue like bitter ash.He pushed himself up onto one knee.The sharp, metallic sound of a cocked trigger cut cleanly through the roar of the waterfall.A cold iron bolt hovered two inches from the bridge of Logan’s nose.The crossbow was made of blackened ash-wood, reinforced with bronze wire. The

From his belt, Logan drew a six-inch iron bodkin, a thick, unsharpened spike of cold iron used for punching holes in heavy leather harness straps.Logan placed the blunt point of the iron spike directly into the small, soft depression between Christian’s collarbone and the top of his shoulder blade, the exact anatomical gateway where the brachial nerve plexus emerged from the spine to control the arm and channel the body’s internal spiritual energy.Logan drove his right heel downward, using his entire body weight to slam the iron bodkin three inches deep into the nerve cluster.Christian did not scream. The sound that came out of his throat was a flat, wet rattle.A violent, visible spasm rippled through Christian’s body. The blue-white fire on his fists instantly sputtered and died like blown-out candles. The orange glow in his eyes flickered, turned pale, and went completely dark.The second archer, seeing his commander dismantled in less than four seconds by a boy who hadn't cast

Logan did not finish the third step. He threw his heels hard into the gravel, locking his shins, and dropped his weight straight down into a dead crouch, completely arresting his forward motion within the space of two inches.Two explosive fireballs and two heavy arrows whistled through the exact empty air where his chest would have been had he completed the stride.The projectiles slammed into the canyon wall forty yards behind him, exploding with a deafening roar that sent a cloud of black sulfur smoke rolling over the floor of the gorge.Christian blinked, his glowing orange interface flickering with an amber question mark. "What? The lock slipped?"Logan didn't give him time to re-calibrate.Before the system could process that the target had stopped, Logan exploded out of his crouch, not forward, but at a sharp thirty-degree angle to the left, taking three erratic, broken-rhythm hops like an injured crow, then throwing himself into a low, sideways slide.Christian furiously thrus

CRACK.The sound was not thunder. It was the violent tear of superheated air.A bolt of compressed crimson plasma blasted past Logan’s left temple, missing his ear by less than two inches. It struck the trunk of a weeping-needle pine behind him. There was no fire, no smoke, only a blinding flash of white-hot heat that instantly turned the thick wooden bark into bubbling, translucent green glass.The heat was so intense it singed the hairs on the side of Logan’s head.Logan did not freeze. He did not gasp. He threw his body sideways, rolling over the sharp black shale of the ravine, and pressed his back flat against the cold surface of an overhanging granite shelf.Above him, the wind howled through the narrow mountain gap.A heavy thump shook the loose pebbles on the ledge fifteen paces away. A man dropped from the sky, landing upright with the arrogant ease of a seasoned hunter. The impact of his iron-shod boots cracked the rock, but his knees barely bent; an invisible cushion of man

Logan did not run. He planted his back foot, aligned his shoulders, and hurled his right dagger through the air.The heavy, unmagical piece of scrap iron spun twice, whistling softly through the sulfurous wind, and buried itself four inches deep directly into the center of the beast’s third eye.The eye popped with a wet sound.The Stalker roared in agony, rearing back on its hind legs, clawing frantically at the iron sticking out of its brain.Logan was already there.He slid beneath the thrashing beast on the loose gravel, caught the wooden handle of his embedded dagger with both hands, and ripped it downward with the full weight of his falling body.The blade carved through bone, palate, and tongue, splitting the monster’s lower jaw in half.The beast collapsed sideways onto the white stones, shuddering twice before going completely stiff.Silence returned to the gorge.The only sounds were the whistling sulfur wind and the ragged, terrified gasps of the four surviving recruits.Au