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

your shields! Healers — help the wounded! Mages, prepare your most deadly spells! Everyone else — hit that thing with everything you can get your hands on! We need to slow it down!”

At first, no one lifted a finger, but a single heartbeat later, people rushed to obey the order. When it was necessary, Mary could exude authority befit of a king, backed up with a bard’s charisma. It wasn’t for nothing that she had become the commander of one of the most famous groups that many of the Guilds would like to see in their ranks.

While the people were busty on the raft, the serpent gathered its strength. It was as if the river itself had decided to resist the mage’s spell. Seeing that the crows were struggling, Ash took a wooden rosary from his shirt and began to cast a defensive spell. Everything depended on his speed.

The serpent roared one last time, and the crows, screaming, disappeared in a flash of blue light. At that moment, the power put in the spell rushed back into its caster, but this time with volatile intentions. All binding spells had one significant drawback — if the attacker destroyed them, the caster would be hit with a retaliatory blow embedded with their own power.

Ash shook the rosary, exposing it to the incoming wave of energy, but either the mage was too slow or the spirit had added more power into the spell as he was hit in the chest with the force of a battering ram. He soared into the air and slammed into the mast. A wheeze and blood escaped his lips.

Alice, seeing that her friend had been wounded, wanted to rush to help him, but she couldn’t leave Blackbeard without support. He was the strongest defender present, and it was his shield that was holding off the serpent. Biting her lip, she turned away from the injured mage.

Ash fell to his knees and coughed up more blood. However, what he was concerned about were not his ruptured organs, but the lens that had fallen out of his eye. Ignoring his wounds, he found the missing lens and put it back into place, pretending that he was wiping blood and sweat from his face.

“It’s... strong,” he grunted.

Guido snarled at the cattle and kicked the deck, trying to calm down the animals that had gone mad with fear.

Putting away the rosary, Ash wrapped both hands around his staff. According to legends, every stone, every blade of grass, and everything under the light of Irmaril had a spirit and a soul. The larger the object was, the stronger its soul. It was said that the spirits of such giants as the Erld river, the Rezaliks Mountais, and the Forest of Shadows, had incredible power. Many shamans called those entities demigods, a step away from the Gods only because they lacked intelligence. They were raw power, driven by the fury of the elements. Something must’ve seriously angered the Erld River if it was so hell-bent on destroying the ferry.

The serpent let out another high-pitched hiss, and its right head lunged forward. The people screamed as a stream of water as thick as a column hit their shields. This was enough for many of them to fall onto the deck. The shimmering dome had holes in it, which the serpent immediately used to deal even more damage.

Several mages, instead of preparing an attack, had to join the defenders and raise their magic shields. Anyone who could wield a blade, moved between the passengers, feeling more helpless than ever. All they could do was get out of everyone else’s way. However, there was one among them who couldn’t bear to sit idly by.

“Ash,” Lari said, rushing over to the mage and helping him to get up. “I have a plan. I need you to buy me some time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Ash said, shaking his head.

“What? Do you maybe have a plan?” Lari asked. “That’s what I thought,” he added without waiting for an answer.

“Still, that technique won’t bring that thing down.”

“It doesn’t have to. All it has to do is to give our people a chance to strike.”

Ash stared at him for a while. He was about to protest when Lari cut him off.

“Mary is alright with the idea. We won’t get another chance.”

“Fucking—” the mage swore and straightened up. “Fine. But have in mind that if you die, I’ll get a necromancer, make them resurrect you, and then I’ll kill you myself.”

“Sounds good.” Lari chuckled.

“Also, bear in mind that the princess has a better chance of survival if six people are helping her.”

From the look on Lari’s face, Ash figured that he hadn’t been thinking about their end goal. His reserved nod only convinced him that the adventurers didn’t like to think about the consequences of their actions.

Lari drew his daggers, took a stance, and closed his eyes. Energy began to gather around him and swirl around his feet as it rose higher and higher until it finally reached the blades.

Ash moved away. He could be affected not only by water, but also by Arlun’s technique as it was based on the energy of will, which counterbalanced magic. He could try to embody the blue flame and use it to fight the serpent, but then no lie would save him from being questioned by the Stumps. He couldn’t afford outing himself like that. So, despite all his strength and talent, he joined the other mages and began to gather energy for a joint attack.

In the meantime, the river raged on. It shouted and rained down a hail of terrifying blows. Ash, following the situation closely, was the first to react. The far right side of the ferry, where the steering wheel was, was only partially destroyed when another attack broke through the shields. The charge easily