Hive Knight: A Dark Fantasy LitRPG (Trinity of the Hive Book 1) by Grayson Sinclair (poetry books to read TXT) 📗

I subconsciously slipped back in time, and was on a whole different battlefield.

Lonny stood over me, his glittering gold sword bit into my neck as he looked down at me with unbridled hatred, tears streaming down his face. My own sword shattered to pieces; I’d been beaten.

I wasn’t fast enough, and this was deserved. I’d let my carelessness run rampant for far too long. This is my punishment for letting Sophia die. I deserve this. I faced my death with as much bravado as I could muster, spitting a mouthful of broken teeth and blood straight into the face of the man who’d been my best friend.

Then I blinked and came back to my senses. I wasn’t fighting with Lonny anymore, though I was still about to die.

Rage shone in the eyes of the darkplate warrior as he wiped the blood from his helm with one hand, while still holding me aloft with the other. He raised back his fist to finish me off, and I had no doubt he would succeed. His mammoth hands would shatter my skull like glass if it connected, but it never did.

Leaves rustled in the wind, and I laughed until I coughed blood as Wilson Shadow-Walked behind my would-be killer. His twin daggers tore through the weak spots of the giant’s armor. He gurgled and choked as blood filled his lungs. The man dropped me to the ground and fumbled for the knives in his back, dying before reaching them.

Wilson picked me up with a grunt and Shadow-Walked back to our side of the battlefield.

It was my first time experiencing the Realm of Shade, and it was like being submerged underwater on a moonlit night. Everything was hazy and distorted, my blood too loud in my ears, its roar drowning out everything but an insidious whisper next to my ear, begging me to stay. It was a very unsettling experience. Wilson had always told me he enjoyed the peace of the place, but I didn’t share his sentiment. Soon enough, we were out of that strange place, and the world made sense again.

The sky looked incredibly blue to my eyes, and a flash of Markos’s robes told me I was well away from the battle. Wilson tossed me like a sack of potatoes on the grass next to Markos.

“Ow,” I tried to say, though it came out more like a strangled, raspy groan.

“Don’t be a baby,” Wilson scolded as he handed me back my sword.

I was grateful for that, but his words made me angry. I wanted to give him a scathing retort, but my head tingled, and the words in my head got jumbled together. “Shut u—” is all I managed before I heaved blood, vomit, and pieces of my shattered teeth all over the ground.

“Oh, stars above. What happened to him?” Markos asked.

“Our glorious leader decided to show off and nearly got himself killed for the trouble,” Wilson said with bitterness in his voice.

I was going to hear about this later, hopefully after my ears stopped ringing.

I couldn’t see anything by the time Markos got around to healing me. My eyes had swollen shut, but I could hear just fine as Markos chanted in Script. The guttural, fricative words rolled from his throat as he carefully built his spell.

He took his time to maximize the efficacy of the healing magic, and a bright warmth spread through my body that got increasingly hotter as it reached the damaged portions of my face. My skin itched like fire ants had burrowed under my skin and stung me relentlessly as my bones reset themselves, and my teeth regrew in my skull.

In under half a minute, my injuries were healed, and the pain disappeared entirely. I sat up off the ground and dusted myself off.

Having been taken out of direct combat for a few minutes, my battle fatigue had lowered enough to where I felt comfortable going into battle again. I looked around for Wilson, but Markos and I were the only ones around. Wilson had disappeared, likely run off to join the fighting, and Markos was zoning out, sipping on a small vial of mana potion, but when I went to head back to the battlefield, he put his hand out to stop me.

“Whoa, there, my friend. You shouldn’t be heading back into battle. The fates spared you once. Best not to tempt them a second time today.”

I shrugged off his hand. I was angry. Not at Markos, at myself. I’d been stupid, an idiotic child, showing off in front of my friends only to make a fool of myself. I had to fix it.

Markos sighed into his hand. He knew he couldn’t talk me out of it, so he didn’t even try. “Good luck, D,” he whispered to my back.

I ran back to the front of the battlefield, which had devolved into pure and utter chaos. Using Dance at least had a positive effect on the battle. I’d taken out three members by myself, and with Wilson killing the tank, we’d evened the playing field nicely.

Gil and Behemoth were side by side, attacking and defending against two members of the Order. It seemed neither party was gaining ground; every time one of them would go for the kill, the other would step in. They weren’t landing any quick kills, but there was damage being dealt. The enemy warrior bled heavily from a gash in his sword-arm as he hefted a large saber and swung at Gil.

Behemoth brought his shield up to block Saber’s attack, sending his sword rebounding off the metal with a clang, which allowed Gil to bring his battleaxe ‘round to slice Saber in half.

As Gill heaved his mighty axe, the other member of the Dawn brought their much smaller shield in to deflect Gil’s attack. His smaller shield glowed green, and Gil couldn’t stop his