Titan: A LitRPG Adventure (UnderVerse Book 4) Jez Cajiao (top ten books of all time TXT) 📖

Where the black had been obviously a human, or some similar species, this one was anything but. It looked human in its size and dimensions, but as it emerged, it shifted, an arm lengthening as it slammed down on the floor with a loud crunch.

It dragged itself forward, rising to stand hunched over, and it lifted its other hand into sight, clutching my goddamn naginata.

It hunched forward heavily, its inhumanly long right arm hanging low out of the robes. Its fingers twitched as the bones of the arm rearranged, growing shorter with a popping, cracking sound as the body shuddered and gasped.

I looked back in growing horror as it shrugged the hood off, exposing its face and letting out a high-pitched giggle.

The face that was exposed was like something out of a nightmare; it had clearly been human at some point, but now, it was stretched and distorted; the jaw was almost the correct size, but the teeth that filled it were a mix of canines and incisors, grown to at least double the normal size, and jutting at all angles with a thick line of bristling hair erupting from the upper lip.

The flesh looked stretched past the breaking point, with dozens of livid red lines showing through the pasty white exterior and bulging sections where… something… shifted and rolled under the skin.

The figure hobbled forward, letting out another high-pitched giggle, and it rubbed the haft of my naginata lovingly, while drooling as it tried to speak.

“I… I have to thank you; yes, thank you my pet. You brought me so much!” The voice was weird; one minute, it was a mumble, then a hoarse whisper, as though someone desperate to share a secret. “You came to me, yes… called here to serve, as they all are…” He seemed to be talking to himself, then suddenly his head shot up and he fixed me with a glare. “You came alone? You brought no others, no hunters? SPEAK!”

At his command I felt my mouth open involuntarily and I gasped as I tried to stop the words tumbling out.

“No hunters!” I heard my own voice declare, and I saw the creature relax as it nodded to itself, the skull shifting under its flesh as though the two were only imperfectly attached.

“Good… good!” it mumbled, nodding and shifting its weight with a creak of bones that sounded terrible.

“Hmmmm, perhaps it is time for a new sleeve? A new coat for my soul?” It asked itself, looking at me and trying to smile widely, succeeding only in grimacing and drooling.

He pulled himself more upright, using my goddamn naginata, and started to stumble forward while looking at the weapon admiringly, drawing his fingers down the blade and shuddering in pained pleasure as he sliced himself open.

“It’s your own fault, slave…” he whispered. “Not only did you trespass in my realm, but you brought me a new toy to help me to be free…” He stroked my naginata slowly, and its haft flickered with blackness, absorbing the Domination spell that he still channeled.

“Ah!” he said, grinning at me. “You see? My new toy recognizes true magic; it hungers for it, it needs it, to be wielded by a master…” He gazed on the weapon adoringly, before stopping and lifting it to his eyes, staggering as he stared at a small mark etched into the wood around halfway up the staff section.

I knew what he was looking at, having traced it with my fingers a thousand times, and more. It was the maker’s mark that graced the haft, a pair of stylized wings with a spear rising between them.

He stared at it for long seconds, then spun with an outraged hiss.

“Where did you get this! Where!” he snarled, and I fell back, my vision narrowing to a single point of light as he screamed and did… something… The world seemed to rocket back into focus, and I panted, staring up at him as my body stayed locked in place.

“Answer me, slave! Where did you get this weapon!” he screeched, hobbling over and reaching down, his arm lengthening with a crack and pop of shifting bones to backhand me with a twisted claw of a hand.

I looked at it, and at him, now that the cowl had fallen back, exposing the rest of his face. He had once been a man of late middle years, skinny to the point of emaciated, with pock-marked cheeks, grey eyes, and scraggly black facial hair. His face was heavily scarred, and he obviously had physical problems, judging from the way he moved, the staggering and weakness, and three questions sprang into my mind at once.

First, and most important, what had brought on the change? He’d gone from a creature that was clearly possessing a body, into seemingly the human shell, but he was in control now, and whatever was under the skin had sunk back into quiescence?

Secondly, was he really from Earth; and third, why do moustaches always make seemingly normal people look like sex criminals? Needless to say, it was number three that forced its way from my mouth.

“You… look like… a… kiddie fiddler…” I gasped out, glaring up at him. “I’m… not telling you… shit.”

“Kiddie-fiddler?” he gasped, then snarled and stabbed the naginata into my exposed inner left thigh, slicing deep into the gap between the armored sections. “They sent you here, didn’t they? The nobility… my father,” he spat. “He sent you to kill me, didn’t he?” He suddenly began writhing, as whatever was under the skin shifted again, coming to the fore, and a seemingly different face glared down at me, its eyes full of hatred and fear.

“What are you? Why are you here?” it screamed. The voice carried weird timbres and inflections, and before I knew what I was doing, I heard my voice speaking up in answer, desperate to appease this freak of nature.

“I am Jax! Lord of…” I clamped my teeth shut, almost taking