Legacy of the Fallen (Ascend Online Book 2) Read online

  Copyright © 2018 by Luke Chmilenko

  All rights reserved.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Epilogue

  Lyrian’s Character Sheet at the end of Legacy of the Fallen

  Afterword

  Thank You Patrons!

  Recommendations

  To my ever patient wife, friends and family who had to endure me talking about this book for months on end.

  Thank you.

  Chapter 1

  Friday, March 8th, 2047 - 5:23 a.m.

  Far Southeast of Aldford

  A pair of moons hung high in the western sky, locked in an eternal chase with one another as they sped through the void. The first moon was large and ponderous as it crossed the firmament, casting a bright crimson light everywhere it glanced, making it appear as if the night itself were on fire.

  Far ahead of its crimson mate, a much smaller and nimble orb sped through the starry night, its pale azure hue much too weak to challenge the glow of its larger sibling. Perched on the far edge of the northwestern horizon, the azure moon began its descent, as the dawn of a new day broke to the east.

  “Charge!” my hoarse voice barked out as I sprinted through the morning twilight, kicking up a spray of dew behind me.

  The sound of thundering feet echoed in my ears, drowning out the crash of the battle before me. A surge of magic sliced through the air, brutally ravaging the bandits’ rear ranks, causing them to turn at the unexpected assault. I saw a wave of terror ripple through their line as they spotted us charging out of the night, desperately scrambling to meet our attack.

  They were far too slow.

  Our vanguard slammed into the panicking horde, overrunning and trampling all in their path as they forced their way towards the front of the battle. In their wake, they left chaos and confusion as shell-shocked bandits picked themselves off the ground, wondering what force of nature had just run them over.

  Then our second line arrived.

  I slammed into a grey-armored bandit, knocking the rising half-elf back to the ground, plunging Razor deep into the fallen Adventurer’s back. Barely breaking my stride, I leaped over the body with a single thought dominating my mind as I forced myself deeper into the chaos.

  I hope we’re not too late.

  A heartbeat later, my sprint carried me through the bandits’ shattered battle line, the few survivors of our surprise attack, fighting fiercely in rapidly shrinking pockets. I carefully picked my way through the bodies littering the ground under my feet as I ran deeper into the chaos. I saw the bodies of uniformed guards lying beside others that could have only been Settlers, both caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, but neither hesitating to give up their lives as they stood up to the bandits’ sudden raid.

  Running hard, I worked to regain my lost speed, tearing my attention from the fallen and instead fixating on an overturned wagon ahead of me. With a quick gesture of my hand, I triggered a spell, immediately feeling lighter on my feet. A gentle hop easily took me to the top of the capsized wagon, and then a powerful leap sent me high into the sky.

  Acrid smoke and a wash of heat greeted me as I surveyed the battlefield from above, my augmented vision cutting through the twilight, allowing my eyes to drink in every detail as I momentarily hung free from gravity’s grasp. Chaos reigned everywhere I looked, with more than half of the bandits still unaware of our arrival. I saw dozens of wagons, carts, and carriages spread out below me, some having circled next to one another for protection against the bandits’ attack. Draft animals wailed with terror as flashes of magic illuminated the morning’s dawn, the constant thunderclaps of concussive spells doing little to drown out their sounds.

  Damn! I spotted a pair of bloody defenders collapse as a group of six bandits overwhelmed them, opening a clear path to a cowering mass of travelers huddled next to a heavily laden cart. As the other bandits bent down to loot the fallen defenders, I saw one marauder dart forward, moving directly towards the now panicking travelers. My cloak billowed out around me as gravity finally began to pull me back down.

  Here we go! I tightened my grip on Razor, focusing on the overeager bandit, and triggered Blink Step.

  The world blurred for the briefest of instants before I landed on the bandit’s back, chopping Razor deep into his shoulder as I rode him to the ground. Chancing a quick glance upward, I saw the eyes of the cringing travelers widen in surprise at my arrival.

  Gritting my teeth, I tore my blade out of the stunned marauder and thrust it viciously into the back of his neck, feeling his body go limp under me. Standing up slowly, I turned to face the other bandits that lagged behind their late friend.

  Two Humans, possibly Scouts or Rogues, plus an Elf that looks like a Mage. I dispassionately analyzed the attackers as they gaped at my sudden appearance. The half-orc might be a Shaman, and that dwarf is almost definitely a Warrior.

  “Ah! What the hell?” one of the human bandits shouted, his eyes flicking to his comrade’s fallen form, “Where the fuck did he just come from?”

  “Well look at that, boys! Someone else wants to play ‘Hero’!” The dwarven warrior laughed derisively as he motioned his companions forward. “Let’s show him what the Grey Devils do to Heroes.”

  “Careful, Phil, he doesn’t look right,” the second human bandit called out cautiously. “There’s something going o—”

  That’s all anyone sees now, I thought as I offered the bandits a bitter smile, having seen the same reaction countless times over the last few weeks. A gaunt, scarred man with skin far too tight for his bones.

  With a burst of cold anger, I leaped forward, covering the short distance between me and the dwarven bandit in the blink of an eye. Caught completely flat-footed, the overconfident dwarf had let his shield arm droop and was still bringing up his axe when I stabbed a crackling Razor into the meat of his arm, discharging a Shocking Touch into his body.

  “Aaah!” The dwarf yelped in pain, his axe falling from his spasming hand.

  Twisting my blade, blood sprayed all over the dwarf’s powder-grey leather armor as I pirouetted to the side, evading a reflexive swipe from his shield. Completing my spin, I shifted ever so slightly to let a gl
eaming short sword pass by my hip harmlessly, finding myself staring into the eyes of one of the human bandits. His eyes flared with horror when my free hand grabbed his outstretched wrist and yanked him forward.

  Right into Razor’s path.

  The battle-worn sword viciously chopped into the base of the bandit’s unarmored neck. Fueled by adrenaline and the need for speed, I ruthlessly sawed the blade into the bandit’s flesh before tearing it free, causing a gout of blood to erupt from the massive wound. Pulling even harder on the now screaming bandit’s arm for a second time, I hauled him completely off balance and sent him staggering into the dwarven bandit behind me.

  “Damn it, Welton! Get it together!” I heard the dwarf yell in anger, before realizing the extent of his friend’s injury. “Oh, shit! Orsond! Welton needs heals before he bleeds out!”

  As if I’m going to let that happen, I thought with a shake of my head, my anger feeling slightly stated. What do they take me for, an amateur?

  Not waiting to lose the initiative, I dug in my heels and sprinted towards the Elf, managing to cover three long strides before the still standing human bandit moved to intercept me. I could see a hesitant expression on his face as he braced himself to receive my charge, having already seen me brutally wound one of his companions. As I ran, the Elf confirmed my suspicions, identifying himself as a Mage, and beginning to conjure a ball of fire in his hands.

  “Rylan, box him in!” I heard the dwarf call out from behind me. “Let Penn wear him down at range!”

  Quickly glancing over my shoulder, I saw that the dwarf had begun charging after me, intent on bowling me over from behind, leaving the half-orc all by himself as he urgently tended to the fallen bandit.

  I mentally sighed, almost feeling sorry for what I was about to do; it wasn’t my fault that this group didn’t know the single and most important rule for player-versus-player combat.

  Never abandon your healer.

  A stride before I crashed into Rylan, I planted my foot, bringing myself to a stop. Caught off guard by my unexpected move, Rylan watched me with a stunned expression on his face as I whirled away, focusing my attention on the distant healer, and triggered Blink Step.

  Once again, my world blurred as I teleported a short distance, appearing directly behind the half-orc Shaman, who had knelt down to heal his fallen comrade. With no regard to the fairness of the act, I lunged forward and drove Razor straight through the half-orc’s back, piercing through the worn leather armor with ease.

  I felt the Shaman gasp as he looked down to see my blade protruding from his chest, his magic chant dying on his lips. Pulling myself close to him, I didn’t wait to see if my opening blow would be enough to put him down for good. I spoke a word of power, causing a dagger made of fire to appear in my hand.

  Leaving Razor buried inside the Shaman, I let go of the hilt and grabbed a fistful of the Shaman’s hair, pulling his head backwards sharply. I allowed myself a moment of showmanship, spinning the dagger in my hand before I caught it by the hilt and brutally thrust it into the Shaman’s exposed throat, feeling it vanish the moment my attack was complete. The half-orc went limp in my grip.

  And that’s why you don’t leave your healer alone.

  I shoved the dead man forward, the body falling heavily on top of the still bleeding Welton. Reaching forward, I grabbed the hilt of Razor and pulled it free, the smell of burning flesh wafting into my lungs as I stood over the body. Flicking the blood off the blade, I turned to face the remaining three bandits.

  “Damn it!” I heard the Elf swear as he began conjuring another ball of fire in his hands.

  “You’re making the biggest fucking mistake, you hear me, you little freak?” the dwarf spat venomously. “Even if you manage to beat us, you’re still trapped in the middle of our raid, all by yourself! Your best bet is to surrender now and pray we kill you quickly!”

  I cocked my head, letting the dwarf’s words wash over me. “What makes you think I’m alone?”

  The words hung in the air, taking a few seconds for the bandits to fully absorb. I could see their faces shift as they realized the echoes of combat raging around us had changed. Screaming voices and shouting had been replaced by the sound of running feet. Sharp thunderclaps of magical explosions could be heard in the distance.

  “Phillion!” A loud shout echoed from behind the bandits as a second band of grey armored marauders ran towards the dwarf, a bloodied half-elf in the lead. “We’re under attack by another group!”

  “What’s happening?” the dwarf shouted, not daring to take his eyes off me.

  “I don’t know! They just hit us out of nowhere!” The half-elf motioned for the group to follow him. “We need to regroup and counterattack! I don’t know what happened to our camp, but everyone who dies is respawning in Eberia or Coldscar!”

  “That would have been us,” I called out, savoring the look of surprise on the bandits’ faces. “We were hoping to come by, maybe borrow a cup of sugar while introducing ourselves as friendly neighbors. Imagine how upset we were when we found the remains of half a dozen caravans in your tiny little grotto.”

  “You…destroyed our camp?” the dwarf replied in disbelief, shock visibly running through his body as he took a step backwards.

  “And spent nearly half the night running and trying to catch up to you all.” I let my gaze slide off the dwarf, looking at the half-elf and the other bandits expectantly. “In case you were wondering, this is the part where you all surrender.”

  “Surrender?” the half-elf said with disbelief. “You’re outnumbered ten to one, and you expect us to surrender?”

  “Yeah, and quickly, please, if you don’t mind.” I motioned to the battle raging distantly around us. “I have places to be, people to save. My schedule is pretty packed this morning.”

  “Phil, who the fuck is this clown?” the half-elf grunted. “And what the hell is going on with his face and eyes?”

  “I don’t know, Roc,” the dwarf replied, regaining some of his courage now that more of his allies had arrived. “He just appeared out of nowhere and killed Rodgen, Welton, and Orsond without breaking a sweat!”

  “Are you fucking serious?” the half-elf exclaimed with surprise, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “You let this anorexic little shit kill half your party?”

  “Can we get on with the surrendering portion of this conversation?” I called out in the best bored tone I could muster, despite inwardly seething as they spoke about my appearance. “I really do have places to be today.”

  “I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in.” The half-elf started moving towards me, waving a metal rod in his hand. “You attacked the Grey Devils; you’re about as fucked as a person can get. By the time lunch rolls around, we’ll be setting up our new camp in whatever place you call home.”

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” I replied, watching the half-elf continue stalking forward, his retinue not far behind. I held up a hand, motioning for the group to stop. “Last chance before things get violent…”

  I paused, looking down at the bodies belonging to the half-orc Shaman and human Rogue, who had since expired from blood loss. “Well, more violent.”

  Unfazed by my threats, the half-elf didn’t break his stride as he moved menacingly towards me. “Enough, let’s get this over with.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.”

  Before I had even finished speaking, a massive azure blur sailed over the top of my head and slammed into the advancing half-elf, sending him to the ground.

  a mental voice rang in my head.

  “What the hell is that?” one of the bandits yelled in surprise, watching the Ætherwarped puma begin to savage the fallen half-elf. “Oh shit, Roc—”

  A thunderclap of magic cut the bandit off as a burst of magefire exploded through the gathered group of marauders, sending them all sprawling off balance. A second later, a large fireball flew through the air and deto
nated itself against the side of the elven mage. The blast sent the poor bandit flying, landing with a sickening crunch as his armor caught fire, but before the stunned mage could even register what had happened, a black arrow thudded into the side of his chest, followed by two more seconds later.

  “Lyr!” I heard a familiar voice boom over the twin magic bursts, spotting Drace’s massive form as he sprinted towards the Raiders. “Hit them from both sides!”

  Leaping forward at Drace’s order, I circled around my familiar as his teeth finally closed on the half-elf’s head, ending all resistance with a vicious twist of the neck. Focusing on the now terrified dwarf warrior, I threw a Flare at his face as I closed the distance.

  Reacting instinctively, the dwarf brought up his shield to protect his face, the tiny fireball splashing harmlessly against the wood. Capitalizing on the dwarf’s momentary blindness, I triggered Blink Step once more, this time appearing directly on his unprotected flank. With all my strength and simmering anger behind the attack, I stabbed Razor deep into the dwarf’s side, feeling the blade slip past his ribs and bite deep into his flesh.

  Roaring in pain, the dwarf tore himself free of my sword, his axe swinging wildly as he tried to buy himself space, forcing me to backpedal to evade his crazed, rage-filled attacks. Howling like a wild animal, the dwarf launched himself at me, seeking to overwhelm my defenses with wild and punishing attacks.

  No longer able to baffle the warrior with creative maneuvers, I was forced to stand toe to toe and found myself almost hard-pressed to keep up. For whatever he lacked in tactical sense, the berserk dwarf made up for in sheer ferocity and endurance as I worked to dodge and evade his attacks, unwilling to risk directly parrying an attack.

  Shit! I winced, feeling my arm go numb reflexively deflecting a particularly inspired attack, and I felt my balance stagger under the powerful blow as my feet slid across the ground. That Rage ability is powerful!

  “Need help, Lyr?” Constantine’s voice reached my ears the same moment his short sword buried itself deep into the dwarf’s kidney. The warrior let out a high-pitched gasp of pain, before falling lifelessly to the ground as Constantine followed up his first attack with an even more devastating stab to the back of the head.