The Gene of the Ancients (Rogue Merchant Book #2): LitRPG Series by Roman Prokofiev (ebook reader for comics .TXT) 📗

So she came to stop me. Tormis and Ananizarte were old enemies; I had heard it more than once. I hadn’t planned on battling a goddess, but inside the body of Colossus...why not? Especially since, despite all of her efforts, she still hadn’t taken more than three percent of my health. I felt a joyful anger, some kind of panache, as a giant rock cracked upon hitting my bronze forehead, dealing less than ten thousand damage. So is that all you’ve got?

I stepped forward and used Stomp, immediately followed by Rays as I hoped to reach her. As expected, stun didn’t work, and she dodged the beams by disappearing and reappearing in another spot. I needed to deadlock her. As fast as I could muster, I sent the giant forward, slashing the cave with my fiery eyebeams while trying to trample my nimble opponent. I failed. The goddess kept slipping away, appearing behind me while continuing her bombardment. If that continued, she could kite me forever: her damage might be small, but it was constant. So what had the Ancients included in the program of their machine for such agile and fast enemies?

Slow Time! I seized a moment and activated the ability. It caught the goddess off balance, and she sluggishly flew by in the suddenly thick air, leaving a misty trail behind her. The bronze fist crashed into her, tossing her into the cave wall. A cloud of dust billowed, and a network of cracks covered the wall. I was pleased to see that my blow took almost a quarter of her hit points. Come on then, darling! Each ten minutes, I’m going to give you a good wallop. Let’s see how long you can play!

After taking that punch, Ananizarte seemed angry and decided to switch her tactics. She transformed into a large dragon, its body composed of crimson black flame. Breathing fire, the monster charged at me, going for my throat and knocking me down. We were of a comparable size; a real clash of titans. Lying on my back, I locked my hands on the dragon’s spine. We were embracing, like two fighters in a par terre.

The creature kept attacking the metal, biting and scratching at my bronze body, slashing it with its fiery tail and breathing streams of flame right into my face, but all of that seemed no more than a light tickle. The builders of the Colossus had done a good job. The creation of the Ancients didn’t give a toss about both magic fire and physical damage. And I was stronger. Squeezing the thrashing dragon/Ananizarte in my bronze grip, the Colossus stood up, pried it away, and smashed it into the wall with all its might.

Once again, streams of rubble fell down on the ground, while the point of impact was marked by a large dent surrounded by a web of fractures. Stalagmites came loose from the ceiling, one after another, crushing the brittle edra crystals. At that rate, we would bring the entire place down.

Not letting hold of the fiery body, I activated Death Rays. Missing was impossible: I was firing point-blank. The dragon twitched as I burned down its hit points, holding it in a death grip.

At last, it disappeared, seeping through my fingers in rivulets of fire. The goddess was fleeing from me over the floor of the cave, her health bar in the yellow zone.

* * *

Ananizarte knew about the Colossi created by the Ancients to battle gods, but she had never fought any of them. All of her efforts were futile — the enemy was so powerful that she couldn’t even wound it, instead losing one of her forms.

The goddess realized that raw power was useless. The Colossi were designed to battle those such as herself. They had no weak spots, and their power was unmatched. Destroying a creature such as that required a different sort of tactics.

Should she bring down the ceiling on it? Throw it into an abyss? Bury it under a mass of stone? Ananizarte’s eyes ran over the cave, easily piercing stone walls, floor, and ceiling.

She saw viscous currents of slowly flowing ellurite converging in an entire underground sea. The thick layer of rock hid a huge deposit, a vein of that substance. There was a reason why the Ancients had chosen that place. They needed energy, and they knew how to extract it from ellurite. Without it, the Colossus guardian could have never stayed awake for those millenia; without it, there would be no Crystal of Negation.

As she understood that, she immediately formed a plan. Ellurite was a toxic substance that corroded everything it touched, like acid. The Colossus was powerful, but could it survive in a sea of ellurite?

Her spirits up, she soared in the air and circled around the giant, easily dodging the glowing rays shot by its eyes. Shaping Crimson Fire into a thin blade that could slice stone like butter, Ananizarte flew around the Ancient’s guardian.

* * *

I understood her plan too late. I was too carried away by my attempts to crush the goddess using Slow Time while she fluttered around like a pesky bee. A roaring pillar of crimson fire slammed into the floor, cutting through stone and melting it. It looked as if Ananizarte was using it to draw an irregular circle around me, not trying to attack me anymore.

Something was wrong, I realized when the stone surface under my feet suddenly shook like a ship’s deck. I tried to escape, but I was out of time. The islet was rapidly sinking in the depths of the earth, carrying me with it. Black melted walls flashed before my eyes. How deep had she reached?

Then I saw a liquid mass of green and blue beneath me and knew: I lost. Who could guess that an entire sea