Rewind: A Grimdark LitRPG Series (Pyresouls Apocalypse, Book 1) James Callum (best large ereader .TXT) 📖

Those thoughts filtered through his mind as he pushed the heavy doors open and felt the ground quake beneath his feet, followed by a guttural, otherworldly roar from deep within the complex.

Walking into the dark corridor beyond, Jacob heard the wet sloshing sounds of something moving ahead. Normally the stench of such a large, rotten creature that slinked out of the dark ahead would have clued him in but the [Ring of Covetous Breath] prevented any of the area’s scent from reaching him.

The bloated thing shambled forward, skin sloughing off its bulbous frame. Its eyes were not red and glowing like a Vacant. This was something else.

Milky, sightless eyes stared at him and a rasping, rattling breath of excitement escaped the gills hidden beneath its three chins.

Most disturbing of all was the writhing tentacle creature fastened to the corpse’s rotund belly.

Unarmed as the man was, Jacob wondered if he should even bother. The doors were likely sturdy enough that if he left now he could turn about and check the other passages.

It didn’t seem likely that the monster before him was capable of enough thought to pull the doors inward to open them. Even as Jacob backed up slowly to stay ahead of the sluggish threat, he found himself readying his shield and weapon.

He held a hatred for the Vile Kingdom and all of its eldritch machinations that was unlike anything he ever experienced in his entire life.

There was so much anger that despite the disgusting thing in front of him, he was already charging toward it, yelling curses at the unhearing monster.

Hammering the Nail split its forehead wide open. The blubbery skin curled disgustingly, like an unseen pair of hands was peeling an orange. But the way his [Mace] rebounded from the strike had Jacob curious.

Pulling it back, he lifted his shield to block a harmless-looking reaching pale arm. Several barnacles on the underside of the man’s arm opened and out lashed half a dozen spiny tongues. They rang against the shield in one long note and pushed Jacob back with surprising force.

He wasn’t stunned for long and he pressed on ahead, sure to keep his shield up to absorb the coming blows. More barnacle attacks came but his shield held and they did no real damage.

But neither did Jacob’s next strike. A heavy winding sidelong swipe of his [Mace], Ringing the Bell clocked the Drowned Wretch in the side of the head but again seemed to do less than it should have.

Jacob rushed forward around the wretch, clipping it with his upraised shield to set the thing spinning about like a drunken ballerina. In a flash and swirl of ash, he dismissed his [Mace] and brought forth his [Longsword].

Without breaking the momentum, Jacob spun and dropped to one knee letting his blade arm go out to full extension. Reaping the Harvest cut the wretch’s legs out from under him in a clean slice.

As the bloated man continued to turn, his ankles and feet remained where they were and he unceremoniously toppled to the side.

Rising to his feet, Jacob was there. He pumped his arm up and with a twist let go of his blade, reversed his grip on it, and in the same twirling motion snapped his arm down just as the blubbery creature hit the slick floor.

Planting the Flag took it in the heart, a twist of the blade stilled its twitching. It was good to be using a sword again.

You defeat the [Drowned Wretch].

Awarded 250 Souls.

Looking deeper down the corridor, Jacob could hear the wet sloshing sounds of more would-be victims. It wasn’t common to find an enemy type that was resistant to blunt weapons like maces. But he was happy for the change in pace.

A flick of his wrist and a roll of his fingers brought his [Longsword] back to its proper upright grip. He had trained with straight swords for nearly a decade Post-Collapse. That skill, gratefully, transferred into Pyresouls and gave him an extreme advantage.

But only if he was wielding a sword. Even then, it wasn’t enough that he could use a sword the entire time. Using the right tool for the job was just as important, if not more so.

Despite that, Jacob flashed a savage grin and strode toward the wet sounds. He had reached a level of swordsmanship that he was proud of and he never felt more confident than when he held a sturdy shield and a good sword.

The image of Kim’s last moments echoed in his mind again and he tightened his grip on his blade. It didn’t matter to him that these creatures before him were from a time and place so far removed from the Vile Kingdom as to be practically blameless.

He hated them all the same. Every slain abomination was a balm to his wounded soul.

The Drowned Halls would fill with the briny opaque seafoam blood of the grotesque creatures when he was done.

23

Wind Parts the Grass, Stag Rushes Through the Field, Hummingbird’s Kiss, Moonlight’s Edge. Jacob flowed from one Sword Form to the next in a dance of fiery death. Wherever he struck with his flaming sword, viscera spilled to the floor, limbs went flying, and an abomination died.

He only stopped when his Stamina demanded it and occasionally to pop a [Cinder Ampoule] from the few strikes that managed to slip past his defenses. Jacob rampaged through the Drowned Halls with a single-minded determination to slay every creature he came into contact with.

The halls were serpentine and massive. Jacob could easily imagine a creature the size of a house slithering through the place. As always, the sense of scale of Lormar stunned him.

Bioluminescent flora lit the way with deceptive beauty that Jacob was quick to cut down. He needed only his own illumination and that provided by Heat Blade to light the way.

His violent display only ceased when he came upon the first Pyre of the area. It was surrounded by calcified