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last update2023-01-23 07:27:05

“We are being watched,” Rybka suddenly said. - Pizdets viciously watching. Come on, someone strong. Fucking punches me.

Glancing at his friend, he noticed that his shoulders were trembling. grimaced.

- Are you with me?

- Damn you fool! Rybka snapped. - Yes, I have no one to be with! Of course with you, bitch!

Drawing my blade, I turned toward the house. You don't have to be an experienced magician to see that the hut survived for a reason. She was saved by a barrier. Noticeable only by how the grass around the house survived. Withered, but the fire did not touch her.

Hope only that Alliel went hunting when it all started. Night hunting. Today, for the first time ever, she did not wait for me at home, but took Neri and went to look for prey in the forest. Maybe she decided to visit her grandfather. Yes, maybe she's in the elf settlement. It would be so right...

It was difficult to approach the open door. Very, very… I was shaking. Sweat trickled down his forehead. The intestines curled
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  • 93

    The blacksmith's apprentice looks on with interest. In a small town, such things are rare, so the merchant immediately called the artisan, and he grabbed the apprentice ... And so the four of them stood, crowding around the dagger of the Angel.- The metal is good, - the blacksmith said quietly, pointing with his finger; the apprentice listened attentively. - They call it the steel of the titans. Almost impossible to break, only melted at a very high temperature ...- Are you squeezing? - asked the merchant, looking at the craftsman.“Of course,” the broad-shouldered man replied. - I'll have to kill for this time, but I can.- Why do you want to sell it? - the apprentice asked me.And for this question he was rewarded with looks full of horror. The blacksmith had already raised his hand to slap the back of the head, and the young man dodged aside.“I don’t need expensive things,” he answered, moving the stiletto closer to the merchant. - Noticeable - even more so. I'm just a hunter.-

  • 92

    Touching the crossbow, he took it in his hands, tried to pull the bowstring. She cut into her fingers. She walked reluctantly, bending her wooden shoulders.- Come on ... - I asked, pushing it to the limit with the last of my strength. - Ready.It will be inconvenient to use a crossbow at such a pace. It is worth keeping it charged and at hand.Bolt lay in his hand. Turning the tip in the dim light of the stove, he put it into the socket. Pointed at the wall. Narrowed his eyes. Who knows. Will have to check how it shoots. A crossbow is a powerful thing, but very inconvenient for a traveler. Low rate of fire, and most of the creatures are mobile and poorly protected. Except that…I was reminded of Heroes dressed in armor. Which neither sword nor arrow usually pierce. I smiled wickedly. Get a bolt in the chest, which you can also pull out the hell, because it's stuck in steel. Why not joy for a lousy little man? From this point of view, the crossbow can be left.- Well, let's be friends

  • 91

    They were waiting for me in the dark. The purest darkness swirled with the vapors of the night, and they were pierced by the fire of the fire. Empty mouths of streets going nowhere. Too hard ground, as for the feet of such a lost one. But they waited, leaving a secret among the corpses.- You still killed Beam.I stopped. Pain pounded through my nerves, fatigue huddled in every muscle, lost thoughts were replaced by clear realizations.- Killed - impassively answered, not even trying to see the invisible.- Do you know what you did?- It was revenge.Words of recognition that took on a new meaning. Not just revenge - it was pleasure.- We had an agreement with Beam. Now it's broken.- And now what?- This city is ours.The rats didn't show up, but I was sure I really heard their voice. Despite the death fever bubbling in the body. It was not delusion, hallucination, imagination.- You broke the contract that held us ten years. Now it's our turn to pay for the service. Tell me what do

  • 90

    The door shook from the impact. I just need a little time. Recover. No matter how serious the guard was, it was not possible to break in. Wait, freak, we'll see you.Taking back control of the muscles, he glanced at the indicators in the interface. Mana is enough. The berserk has long since died out, depriving me of part of my strength. Not that important.Rolling away from the door, he let it open with a kick. The guard smiles bloodthirstyly. Not afraid? In vain.Impulse Activation.4 mana spent.This time the hit is accurate. The guard, who had time to approach and swing his baton, lifted himself off the floor. The purposeful flow of air tossed the thin body, disorienting. Gotta hand it to the kid - landed on his feet.Rush forward. knock down. Intercept the hand with the baton. Saddle. Hit.The guard tries to cover himself. He was not taught to fight in this position. And I love close-ups.With all your weight, fall on the left, clinging to the throat. Press into the floor. Strangl

  • 89

    Thoughts became even darker. Magic can't be used? You can come to terms with this. But what is this strange reaction of the body to a blow from a baton? After all, they hit the prosthesis. Yes, and the first blow was not so painful when the fingers flew. Sadden, of course. The skin was torn, it bled a little. But nothing terrible.The club looked normal. Wooden. The guards said that magic can't be used. Then why am I twisted?“Grid,” I called, casting aside my pride.- Listen, fox.- What kind of club do the guards have?- Who knows?- You do not know?- I know. She is wooden. Probably.- And that's it?Grid was silent. Grimacing, I buried my face in my knees. They took away my crown, weapon, smoking pipe, bag with the Diary. All have been taken. And now they're going to keep it here? What the heck? What is Beam thinking?- Watch out, it's almost night. The torches are almost out.Torches. They burn for quite a long time. Also weird. In Artilos, they had to be changed about once an ho

  • 88

    And now we are standing in front of some thin guy. Bim is angrily pushing something. For some reason, I crumpled the collar of my shirt, bringing my frightened face closer to me. I punch a couple of times, cutting through the skin with the steel of the prosthesis. The guy screams plaintively, making excuses. As soon as I let him go, he tries to run away. Bim with laughter, like a crazy animal, rushes after him. Jumping! Catches the fugitive, pinning him to the ground. With a crunch, he breaks his hand. I laugh, leaning against the wall. Makes me sick. The ataman takes out a purse from the poor man's pocket. Hangs on his belt. Finally he kicks me and waves his hand to me: "Let's go."And then we broke into someone's house. Long disputes about debts. Powder is sprinkled on the countertop. Beam generously tightens his nostrils. Grabs the bag, pours out more. He invites me with his gaze. I lean. Shaking. I have a hard time taking a short puff. I scream, I shake my head. The system warns a

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