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

this entire forest. This turned out not to be the battle he needed, one in which he’d have to unleash all of his power, but a simple fight against a desperate man wishing to find some meaning in his life. Having realized this, the smile disappeared off Ash’s face.

Arlun held his sword in front of him, having decided to unleash his most powerful technique. The two blades shone and merged into a gigantic one.

“Titan’s Blade!” he shouted and charged.

Long ago, using this very skill, he had cut through a fortress wall, proving to everyone his right to refuse to fight with one of the Master of the Order.

“First Form: Incarnation!” Ash said, hitting the ground with his staff.

A ball of fire shot out from the tip of the staff. Arlun had no time to be surprised that Ash had decided to counter his most powerful technique with a spell every novice mage knew, when the sphere suddenly changed color from orange to blue like a clear summer sky.

The blue flames swallowed the giant blade and then pierced through Arlun’s chest, devouring his heart. The swords fell to the ground with a silent thud, followed by the swordsman’s smoking body. An unpleasant stench filled the air.

Ash shook his head. The scarf wrapped itself around his ashen hair, and the lens once again hid the true color of his eye.

“You’re still afraid to go out in the open,” he said with a grin and spun on his heel, sensing a wave of bloodlust overcome him.

His heart skipped a beat.

He had expected to see the one person who he hated with all his heart, but no. Before he could stop his hand, the staff had gone through Elanor’s chest.

“M… Murderer…” she whispered with her final breath as a dagger slipped from her callused hand.

Catching her, Ash knelt down as he put her to the ground. An innocent woman, who had never so much as raised her voice on someone, had died by his hand.

“No,” he whispered, remembering Helmer’s words. “No, no… Oh, no… Sorry… Oh, I’m so sorry…”

He cradled her in his arms for a long time, whispering apologies and begging for forgiveness, but he got no answer. He remembered promising the abbot of the monastery that he’d never lay his hands on an innocent soul again, and the old man laughing in his face. The sage had said that Ash was cursed by the Gods for his misdeeds and that the blood of the innocent would forever stain his hands. Oh, if he had only known back then how right the abbot would turn out to be. Even now, standing on the most cursed and lifeless of lands on this planet, he still managed to bring misfortune with him.

For a long time, the young mage would rock the woman in his arms. He’d then wrap the two corpses in a white cloth, lay them side by side, and summon fire with a blow of his staff. After that, he’d wake up the mule, load the cart with his sleeping fellow adventurers, and go into the Forest, leaving the flames to swallow his sin.

The morning of the same day

When Mary awoke, the first thing she did was grab her sword. She remembered falling asleep in the hayloft, so it was no wonder that she was surprised when she realized that they were now back in the damn forest, among its damn purple grass and rotten trees.

The rest of the group awoke soon after. Just like Mary, they, too, reached for their weapons and jumped to their feet.

“You’re awake!” Ash emerged from under the cart. Flashing them a confused smile, he scratched the back of his head. “I… I woke up before you guys and found us here, camp set up and campfire lit, so I made us some food.”

“Where―”

“I think we overstayed our welcome. The two probably wanted some privacy.” Ash spread his arms and shrugged. “So, they probably drove us to here and then hid their house with magic.”

The Stumps exchanged glances and then nodded in agreement, accepting the rather reasonable theory. Lari, remembering something, began to feverishly feel his pockets. Finding the pouch, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Ash watched with a genuine smile as Lari put the scroll away, treating it as if it were the most precious thing in the entire world. Then again, for him, it probably was. Well, perhaps the mage could teach them not only to have fun, but also to appreciate something other than gold, which brought with it more trouble than it was worth.

Mary sighed and put her sword away.

“Well, what can you do? Let’s eat and get going.”

The rest of the group, putting away their weapons, joined the mage by the campfire. Unfortunately, as it turned out, Ash couldn’t cook to save his life. While Mary tried to salvage the supplies he had ruined, Ash stood crouched behind the group, rubbing his head on which a bump would soon form, as a single tear escaped his eyes.

Mary, without sparing words and curses, got rid of the pot of porridge by emptying it on the mage’s head. Because of him, they had to continue their journey on an empty stomach.

Two days later

“There’s the exit!” Blackbeard exclaimed happily.

The party rushed toward the huge arch built of white stone with cries of joy and cheers. The distance between the two pillars was almost fifty feet, and their height was lost beyond the two hundred mark. Created in the period of the Ancient Kingdom, the archway, now wrapped in ivy, was the most easily recognizable exit from the cursed forest that could be found under the light of Irmaril.

Ahead of them stretched the boundless plain, behind which towered the mountain chain of Rezaliks.

Ash glanced over his shoulder as if to say goodbye to the forest