Novels by Ramutshatsha Arikonisaho

Fwoosh!The sound of metal sliding free was followed by an immediate surge of energy.The weapon was a dao sword, its broad, curved blade gleaming like polished silver.As soon as it was drawn, ripples of translucent energy pulsed outward from the blade.These ripples were faint yet visible, shimmering in the air like droplets hitting the surface of a still pond.Each ripple distorted the moonlight for a brief moment before dissipating into the night.The blade hummed faintly, resonating with the vice lord's own energy.It was a weapon forged not just for cutting but for channeling power, amplifying Mevrick’s aura with every swing.The air around him seemed to respond to the weapon, growing heavier and charged with tension.Mevrick twirled the dao sword once in his hand, its edge cutting through the cold air effortlessly.The ripples grew in intensity, spreading outward in a display of both beauty and menace."This will be interesting," Mevrick thought, his eyes narrowing as he strode

Cling... Cling...Thud... Thud...The muffled sound of metal scraping against itself, followed by dull thuds, echoed faintly across the camp.Inside a large, weathered tent decorated with torn banners and bloodstained fabric, a man with a hoarse voice stirred."Huh? What is that noise?" the man muttered, rising from his chair.The dim, flickering light of a lantern illuminated his imposing figure.He was tall, standing well over six feet, with lean, corded muscles that hinted at years of brutal training.His short, frosted hair faded on the sides, accentuating a striking tattoo of a blood-drenched hand etched into the right side of his head.His face was angular, with sharp cheekbones and cold, piercing gray eyes that seemed to radiate menace.A jagged scar ran from his temple to the corner of his lip, adding to his fearsome appearance."It seems some people are attacking our camp, Boss Jarn," another man spoke, stepping into the dim light of the tent.The man, known only as Jarn, the

A Few Minutes Before Midnight – One of the Camps Near MistvalleyThe camp was quiet, save for the occasional crackle of the fire.The air was thick with a tension that weighed heavily on the warriors from Belvan.The faint glow of a dwindling campfire cast long, flickering shadows across the faces of the Belvan warriors gathered in the camp.Some sat cross-legged, others leaned against their weapons, but all bore the same heavy expression.Their expressions reflected hopelessness, their morale shattered by weeks of hardship.This was one of the three groups Oasis had promised to handle personally, the weakest of the lot.Many in the camp had already given up before the fight had even begun. One warrior, sitting with his back against a jagged boulder, sighed deeply as he stared into the flames."We’re just lambs to the slaughter," he muttered bitterly, his voice thick with regret."All my life, I’ve fought to survive... and this is how it ends."Another, sharpening his blade out of h

Before Raegar's arrival...The Vice City Lord Mevrick sat at table, the rugged map of the region spread out before him.His fingers worked methodically, marking key locations and scrawling notes with a sharp quill.A piece of jerky hung loosely from his teeth, a habit he often indulged in while deep in thought.The flickering lanterns in the tent cast long shadows over the map, illuminating the harsh terrain of towns and the surrounding regions.His mind churned, not with doubt but with the weight of the task at hand.Belvan’s forces were spread thin, and the success of this mission hinged precariously on the plans of a boy—an unorthodox yet strangely capable boy.The thought lingered as he bit down on the jerky, chewing absently while his eyes traced the routes leading to and from the marked meeting points.!!!Suddenly, his focus sharpened.A faint yet distinct presence stirred at the edges of his awareness, an aura cutting through the stillness of the rocky terrain beyond the camp.

As Oasis moved, his thoughts raced with exhilaration and a growing hunger to test his limits.His smug grin widened as he vaulted over jagged boulders and slid expertly down loose gravel.Every movement was a testament to his honed skill, his steps fluid and deliberate, even as the terrain grew increasingly unforgiving.The dry, cracked earth of Mistvalley stretched ahead, dotted with spindly shrubs and patches of stubborn grass clinging to life in the arid climate.The rain showers from earlier had long stopped, leaving behind a cool, crisp atmosphere that only highlighted the stillness of the desert-like ridge.By now, most of the groups from Belvan had reached their designated meeting points, converging with the shadows who had been dispatched alongside Oasis.The air was tense with anticipation as warriors and informants alike gathered in hidden camps, waiting for their next orders.Despite their apparent cooperation, not all among them were convinced, doubt simmered quietly.Some

Morning broke with gray clouds cloaking the sky, and as the showers intensified, droplets danced and streaked off the shimmering dome that encased the city lord's manor.The rain fell steadily over the ridges, creating a rhythmic patter that blanketed the landscape in a cool, refreshing embrace.Oasis's barrier, an ethereal shield of translucent energy, turned the rainfall into streams of water cascading down its surface.The effect was mesmerizing—like a dome of flowing glass, refracting light and creating a surreal scene that drew curious eyes from all around.Nearby, patrons at the local inn gathered at windows and doorways, watching in awe.The innkeeper, wiping down a counter, muttered, “I’ve never seen anything like it. That’s magic... real magic.”Travelers, merchants, and townsfolk exchanged hushed whispers, their gazes fixed on the barrier and the manor it protected.Some speculated in fear, others in wonder, but none could tear their eyes away from the miraculous display.In