Ash. The Legends of the Nameless World. Progression Gamelit Story by Kirill Klevanski (essential reading .txt) 📗

Walls crumbled, floors cracked. Huge holes appeared wherever the echo of the clash of the two staffs could be heard. Pools of lava hissed where the flaming minions fell. Smoke and soot became the banners of the two armies, and the thunder of the Heaven became the sound of their battle drums.

“Fifth form,” Ash began, but they finished together, “The Elements!”

The warriors and the wolves were gone; a sea of fire boiled behind the two mages. Filling the entire space from floor to ceiling, it burned even the air between them. The walls began to melt like candle wax. Despite the two shivering shields, the Stumps felt their eyes and lips dry up. The hot air burned the lungs. A moment passed, and the two walls, drawn by outstretched staffs, collided.

Chapter 59

H aving tamed the element, the mages molded it to their imagination. A huge tiger wrestling with a panther was replaced by a sword and a mace, which then morphed into soldiers, similar to heroes from ancient frescoes. The fire roared, the flames raged, and thunder seemed like a distant cry of the wounded Heavens in comparison to their crackling and rumbling. The lightning that cut through the burning clouds seemed pale compared to the bright colors of the magic flames.

A flaming replica of Guido, the size of a young dragon, reared up. Its neighing was deafening, and the sound of its hooves kicking lava made one’s heart freeze with fear. Opposite the horse was a bear. A powerful roar shook the ancient halls, and the claws left ghostly trails in the air. The horse dashed forward, turning into a falcon half-way through.

The bear leaped, turning into a vulture.

The Falcon turned into a lynx.

The vulture into a tiger.

The lynx into a basilisk.

The tiger into an ogre.

The basilisk into a dragon.

The ogre into a demon.

And when the dragon and the demon clashed, there was an explosion the likes of which the Stumps could never have imagined.

The citadel was torn apart like a flimsy wicker basket. A huge ball of dire, inside which the two opponents could just barely be told apart by the color of the flames, became bigger with every heartbeat. At one point, it emerged from the collapsed and melted vault, pushed everyone back against the wall, and shot a column of flames toward the sky. The clouds spiraled toward it, and the brightness of the flames made the pillar visible even from the Erlinda Valley.

“What are you fighting for?!” Racker roared over the firestorm. “For revenge?!”

Ash was silent.

“What am I fighting for?” he thought.

Using the moment of confusion, Racker attacked. The tornado wavered and a ball of flames crashed down on Ash’s head. When the flames died down and the dust settled, the Stumps watched with wide eyes as the smoldering figure of their friend embedded in one of the surviving walls. It was as if some giant had hit the mage, nailing him into the stone.

“Greatest mage, my ass,” Racker snorted and spat.

Before his spit reached the floor, he screamed in pain. His right side was pierced by a fire-covered staff. Behind him, the surviving flames flickered, out of which emerged Ash. The figure in the wall crumbled away, leaving behind only a black silhouette.

Ash instinctively jumped back. The pained cry grew into an enraged roar. Racker’s body was once again undergoing a transformation. His skin swelled and burst, revealing bleeding tissue and white bones. His eyes were spinning in their sockets like spinning tops.

Sensing that something was wrong, Ash sent a ribbon of fire toward the shuddering lump of flesh, blood, and pain, but it bounced back against a shield. The mage unleashed a myriad of spells, but none managed to reach their target.

Soon, in the middle of the huge hall stood a huge red dragon. Scratching the ground, it left deep furrows in the granite. Bright red flames escaped its roaring mouth, and its amber eyes shone with anger and bloodlust.

At that moment, Ash realized that by having consumed the White Essence, Racker had become a semi-divine creature. The Blue Essence that he had inherited, didn’t have that much power. He took an instinctive step back. He didn’t know if Racker had figured out the secrets of the Seventy-two Transformations or if he had changed shape intuitively. Whatever the case was, such a creature had no right to exist. It violated the laws of the Seventh Heaven just by breathing.

The dragon spread its leather wings and lifted off the ground. Ash was certain that it’d come plummeting down and breathing fire the moment it was high up enough.

Racker was getting ready to fly off when Ash broke into a run. Jumping onto the dragon’s chest, he plunged his staff into the gap between the armored plates of the reed scales. The dragon soared, flapping its gigantic wings. The ashen embrace of the burning clouds was rapidly approaching, but Ash held tightly to his staff. Racker, arching in pain, lost control of his new form and collapsed onto a ledge.

Ash tossed and turned on the rocks for a while, trying to get over the pain and get up. The dragon, shaking its head, pushed off from the ground and hovered in the air, flapping briskly with its wings. Rising to his feet, the young mage was forced to hold his staff out in front of him and cover his face. The flapping of the dragon’s wings created a gust of wind so strong that Ash’s cloak almost choked him as it struggled to remain on his thin shoulders.

“You naive, half-breed freak!” Racker roared, and his cry echoed across the hot rocks. “Where do you think I got enough potions to poison the entire army?! Who do you think gave me the order?! Who was more afraid of us than our enemies?!”

Ash closed his