Harem Assassins : King Sekton's Harem Planet, Book 2: A Space Opera Harem Adventure by Baron Sord (top inspirational books .txt) 📗

you had two magic rings. Without them, without anything, I was worthless out here. Given enough time, sure, I was confident Violet could teach me how to live in the jungle like she did. I’d learn and acclimate eventually. Considering she had come here from a cush life in the Royal Palace, it seemed reasonable she’d had to acclimate too. I’d bet money her tribe had taught her how to live off the land like she was born to it. But she and they weren’t here to teach me, I didn’t have time for gradual acclimation, and there was no telling what genetic enhancements women like Violet had, enhancements like night vision or increased strength or accelerated healing or who knew what else. Enhancements I would never have without my rings to grant them.

What to do now?

Other than get my ass back to the outpost?

For that I’d need a compass or a map, preferably both, neither of which I could conjure from thin air without my freaking rings.

But I could walk.

I started in the general direction I believed we had been traveling before the Terrorsaurs had attacked. Sadly, after being carried blindly through the jungle on Captain Theia’s back and rolling down that hillside into the river, I really had no idea what direction that was.

Forward was my only option now.

I spent a few minutes picking my way carefully over the bare ground, testing my footing and my tender feet gingerly with every step.

I slowly realized I could walk, if I was cautious, and placed every footstep slowly and carefully. After several minutes of this, I guessed my estimated speed was less than half a kilometer per hour, if that. This was intensely frustrating. I’d never get back to the outpost alive, not at this pace. But I soldiered forward anyway, effectively blind in the darkness. I did my best to fight back my fear that jungle phantasms waited behind every big leaf and every big tree trunk, licking their drooling fangs prior to springing out and eating me. Each step I took suggested those phantasms were merely delusions of my terrified mind, but they seemed real to me.

Now would be the perfect time for a Dispel Illusion spell.

Yo, Gygax! Hook a brother up!

Gary had nothing to offer on the matter.

Grimacing, I continued my path parallel to the snaking river below. I noticed there was enough of a gap in the overhead canopy of leaves and branches for a bit of purple moonlight to filter through and glaze the waxy jungle leaves around me in scattered pockets and slim glints of light. It wasn’t much to see by, but it was something.

I pushed through the strangely alien leaves, fronds, flowers, and branches, wary of sharp edges, thorns, spines, burrs, brambles, Shockthorn Roots or who knew what other dangerous plants that might be waiting and working in concert with those fanged phantasms to kill me dead.

After several intensely stressful minutes of thinking something would explode from the shadows any second and slice my guts open, sending them spilling steamily onto the jungle floor, nothing like that happened. Thanks to whichever Zalaxian Jungle Gods were watching me now, there hadn’t been a single deadly plant or animal lying in wait.

Moment by moment, step after careful step, my hope of surviving this nightmare grew by small measures.

I could do this.

I could get out of this jungle alive.

As long as I didn’t trip, slip, or slide on some hidden obstacle or break my legs on the bottom of a deadfall, or go plunging back down into the river below, I might actually manage to—

Sudden footsteps ahead cut through the jungle hum.

“Theia?” I whispered.

No reply save for the rustling of feet coming in my direction. Could be human feet, giant frog feet, or fire-breathing gorilla feet. I couldn’t tell which.

Ahead, the shadowy jungle brush shifted slightly.

I froze.

Unable to see into the shadows, I listened as hard as I possibly could.

Waited.

Nothing.

It might have been my imagination.

“Captain? Is that you?” I whispered. “Corporal Syx? Anybody?”

Still no answer.

More movement up ahead.

Swift movement.

Terrorsaurs.

If they caught me alone, I was dead.

My every muscle tensed and I turned to run.

Only to immediately stub my bare toes on something hard and trip over… the roots of my Escape Tree. Or one like it. Either this tree had gotten in my way on purpose — there was no reason trees couldn’t be vengeful — or I had tripped over one of its thick spidery roots by accident. The result was the same.

I laid myself flat out with a tongue-biting BANG!

My teeth rattled.

My tongue bled.

The tree rustled its branches merrily, sounding a lot like it was laughing. This was payback for what I’d done earlier to it or its brother.

Should.

Have.

Stayed.

Home.

—: Chapter 106 :—

I rolled to the side, doing my best to disappear under some big jungle leaves opposite the traitorous Escape Tree’s bitter brother. I stopped when I hit a big tangle of roots, rocks, branches and who knew what else. Backing myself into this shadowy corner hadn’t been my plan, but here I was.

I held my breath and waited.

More footsteps.

Based on sound, I still couldn’t tell what kind. Could easily be Terrorsaurs. The hammering of my pounding pulse in my ears wasn’t helping me figure out which kind.

The footsteps stopped in front of my hiding place.

I froze and held my breath.

Glaring light stabbed my eyes and hit my face. I raised one hand, trying to peer through my fingers. It wasn’t Terrorsaurs. Was it helmet lamps on Royal power armor?

I said, “Captain?”

“Look what we skrucking caught,” said a gruff male voice.

“A little skrucking bitch,” another man laughed hatefully.

Pirates.

At least they wouldn’t tear me apart and eat me like Terrorsaurs might.

“Looks tasty,” snarled a barking voice that didn’t sound human.

“Tell me, Skok, do you eat your eggs and sausage raw or cooked?” The gruff voice was asking the question of whoever Skok was. As for eggs and sausage, he was clearly referring to my currently naked man-meat.

“Definitely raw,” slavered Skok, he of the