Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story Kirill Klevanski (reading books for 6 year olds .TXT) 📖

“Modest as always!” Garangan burst out laughing. “Many of my subjects lack that quality. But now’s not the time for modesty, my friend. A storm is coming, and I’d like you to help me fight it.”

“My—” Arthur began, but Garangan cut him short with a wave of his hand.

“It’d be an honor.” Ash bowed yet again. “Your orders, my Lord?

“All in its due time, my friend,” the king said with a hint of youthful cockiness in his tired voice. “First I must check to see if you’re suited for this assignment. Guards! Bring in the convict!”

The doors opened almost immediately and two guards in light armor dragged in a man in dirty, tattered clothes. His hair was unkempt and his body unwashed, causing the majordomo to put a handkerchief to his nose and grimace with disgust.

The guards threw the man in front of the king’s feet and drew their swords. Only the royal guards were allowed to draw their weapons in the palace, anyone else who dared present their blade would be killed immediately

Ash looked down at the man who, curled up, was coughing and groaning. He didn’t care about his pain, he didn’t understand why he should care about a stranger.

“Your Majesty?”

“Patience, my friend.” Garangan turned to one of the guards. “Give him your sword.”

The man stood motionless, staring at his king in disbelief.

“I said give him your sword!”

“Y-Yes, my Lord!” the guard exclaimed nervously. Throwing his blade to the convict, he dropped to his knee.

The man didn’t waste a second. Immediately grabbing the weapon, he leaped to his feet and bared his yellowed teeth. Through the scars and locks of dirty hair, shone eyes of a madman. But even he wasn’t that mad as to jump at the king.

“This, Ash, is a swordsman from the city of Felsham, convicted of violence, robbery, murder, and looting. He was to be hanged tomorrow morning, but I pardoned him. Do you know why?”

“I do,” Ash lied.

Truth be told, he didn’t care about what the man had done or what would’ve happened to him. All that the man was in his eyes was a sack of flesh and bone.

“I’m willing to give him a chance to save his life. If he defeats you in a duel, I’ll give him a horse and three days of advantage. Then I’ll send my men after him. If he escapes them, he’s free to live his life as he pleases.”

“So, I have to fight him?”

“That’s right.”

“As you wish, my Lord.”

Chapter 16

A sh stood up, bowed first to Garangan, then to Arthur, and then turned to his opponent. There was no signal. The duel began when Ash took his staff and assumed a battle stance.

Uttering a mad cackle full of bloodlust, the convict charged at the young mage. Blade shining with an emerald light, the man shouted as he swung at Ash, who blocked it with his staff and used the momentum to redirect the blow to the side. The man stumbled, took two unskilled steps back, and attacked once more.

“First Form: Incarnation.”

Flickers of flame danced around Ash. The convict cackled, licking his cracked lips. He continued laughing even when the flames flew toward him. Spinning wildly, he attacked them with the sword, the blade of which was now shimmering ruby red. Only an experienced swordsman could slash through elemental spells. Ash seemed to have underestimated his opponent.

The man took a strange stance: bending his legs, he outstretched his right hand, and put his left on the blade, the tip of which he pointed directly at Ash’s heart. The young mage, however, didn’t seem at all worried about the deadly sting threatening him. Arthur was right when he called him a sculpture devoid of a soul.

“Bloody Dawn!”

The convict ran his hand over the blade, drawing blood and dying the steel scarlet. There was a whistle followed by a thud. The sword, despite being imbued with a skill that could cut through stone, could not cut the wood shrouded in flame.

“Second Form: Cover.”

Spinning his staff, Ash knocked his opponent to the side and hit him in the stomach. There was a sharp cry, followed by the smell of burning flesh and a clatter of steel hitting marble. Ash grabbed the unarmed man by the hair and, turning toward the king, held him up like a hunter presenting their prey. Garangan looked impressed; his eyes were glimmering with anticipation. Arthur, on the other hand, was just waiting to say goodbye to his dinner.

“I did as you asked, my Lord.”

“Not quite.” Garangan smiled. “Finish him off.”

“No!” Arthur yelled, but he was too late.

Without so much as batting an eye, Ash covered his hand in flames and pierced through the man’s chest. Pulling out his hand, he presented to everyone the man’s still-beating heart. The last thing that convict saw was his heart crumbling into dust.

Arthur felt a wave of fear overcome him. The spell that the young mage had used wasn’t a part of the curriculum. It wasn’t in any book or ancient scroll that he had ever read. Hell, he had never seen it before. Was it possible that Ash had invented it on his own?

“What in the world came over him?” he thought, placing a defensive ward over himself.

“What a show!” Garangan clapped and rose to embrace his friend once again. “You’ve passed the test,” he said, patting Ash on the back. “That’s what I’ve been looking for! Now, I suppose you want to hear the details?”

“If his Majesty would be so kind.” Ash bowed.

“You remember how you saved me in the Mons Forest?”

“I do.”

“It was the Kingdom of Arabist that attacked me. Our eastern neighbors. That was their response to