Novels2Search
Wildling
Fourteen

Fourteen

I tabbed through my inventory—which was already getting tedious without Ezzie’s assistance—then printed the bandit’s bloodied clothes on top of my skin.

I paused at the entryway to the cavernous room, then walked in like I belonged there. I had to step over the chain, and now that I was close to it, I could see that it glowed with a pale green light. Oddly enough, the miners didn’t seem to be shackled; the chain was simply coiled snake-like around their ankles. Another spell, probably.

I walked across the room at a casual pace, expecting a cry of alarm to go up at any minute, straining my ears for the sounds of approaching footsteps, for the whoosh of an arrow singing through the air.

But there was nothing. Nobody seemed to think twice of my presence. I reached the door on the other end of the room and let out a relieved breath. I reached down and grabbed the brass handle.

It was locked. Every set of eyes in the room turned to me—I felt it. I jammed my hands into my pockets and pretended to look through them, just to buy myself some time. Then I remembered the key that the little girl had given me. But I must have deprinted it along with my armor.

I didn’t see any other option, so I stepped in front of the Constructor, hoping to block the light it gave off as it printed the key into my hand.

I clenched my teeth, expecting to be rushed by the leather-clad guards at any moment. The seconds dragged by: four, three, two, one.

The key dropped into my right hand. I raised it to the lock and slipped it in, turned it. I was rewarded with a click, and the door swung open.

A blast of cold, clean air rushed over my face. I stepped through and pulled the door shut behind me, my heart in the back of my throat. One deep breath, another.

Then an axe buried itself in the door about an inch from my face.

I’d entered a small, private chamber, and a very pissed off slaver stood at the foot of an enormous bed, a second axe in hand. He let fly and I ducked the blade, examining him as I ran around the room, finding a pillar that I put between us.

{Slaver Chainkeeper} (level 6 humanoid) (Veteran)

HP: 300/300

The Chainkeeper vanished in a puff of smoke, and the room went entirely black, the torches that lined the walls blinking out in a wave. I told my Constructor to print my helmet, breastplate, and greaves, needing both the armor as well as the light that the Constructor would provide.

The Chainkeeper came in low and fast, slashing a short sword at my thigh. I saw the blow coming thanks to the Constructor’s light and was able to leap back, only taking a shallow cut as the weapon sliced across my still-unarmored thigh.

The Chainkeeper tipped forward, not having met the amount of resistance he expected, and I drove my serrated dagger down into his shoulder. I stabbed at him with my stone dagger as well but he twisted away at the last moment, causing the blow to glance off his leather pauldrons. He vanished again, and I took the opportunity to queue up the rest of my armor for printing.

A ball of bluish light burst into existence at the far end of the room, so bright in the relative darkness that I had to squint to look at it. Two more identical balls of energy appeared beside the first, each of them burning with the same cold light, and the trio began to circle one another, faster, faster.

As my vision adjusted, I could just barely make out a silhouette standing below the glowing orbs. The Chainkeeper pointed a finger my way.

Shit. I ran sideways as the first orb crackled forward, erupting against the wall where I’d been standing in a splash of blue light. Shards of frost peppered my face so I changed direction immediately, bolting back the way I had come as the second orb exploded right where I would have been if I’d kept going.

I was going to repeat the process, but my feet slipped out from underneath me, the floor having iced over. Which saved my life.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Not wanting to guess which direction I’d head in next, the slaver had apparently split the distance between right and left, and would have scored a hit if I hadn’t been on the ground. Instead, the third orb flew over my head and exploded against the door I’d entered through.

I regained my feet and glanced up to see three more orbs circling the Chainkeeper’s head. The first zoomed forward; I could already tell it was going to hit the pillar beside me.

I launched my serrated dagger with every ounce of strength I had and watched the blade spin right through the orb and disappear inside it. I threw myself to the ground as the orb detonated against the nearby pillar, sending shards of ice into my back, the cold shrapnel ripping through the gaps in my armor, which my Constructor was still only about halfway through printing. I spared a quick glance at my health bar; that explosion had chunked off almost half my health.

I rolled to the side, putting another pillar between the slaver and I, expecting another orb to explode beside me at any moment. But when no attack came, I peeked around the pillar and saw that my throw had hit home; the Chainkeeper was struggling to pull the blade out of his right shoulder, and the orbs above his head had vanished.

I charged forward, but something was wrong. I was moving too slowly; it felt like I was running through water. Sure enough, a new icon had popped up in the debuff section:

{Chilled}

Movement speed decreased by 25%, attack speed reduced by 15%.

2.5 seconds remaining.

There was another icon too—a skull and crossbones glowing a sickly shade of green—but I didn’t have the time to scope it out.

The Chainkeeper glanced at me, then returned his attention to the dagger I’d thrown. He was frantic now, his eyes darting between me and the blade. He winced as it finally came free, but I was still ten feet out from making contact.

The slaver tossed my weapon into his left hand and drew a short sword with his right.

We circled each other then, my armor appearing piece by piece, and I waited until the nearest torch was behind me before making a move, hoping the darkness would obscure my movements. I turned my body sideways, then darted forward, but instead of attacking, I threw my stone dagger underhand.

The slaver ran forward to meet me and caught my dagger in his chest. But he kept coming despite the damage, slashing out high and horizontal with his short sword.

I put my hands up to guard my face and the strike sparked off my gauntlets, my health red-lining all the same.

The Slaver grinned and drew back, but he was staggering now, woozy with blood loss. I dashed forward before he could recover, dipped beneath his guard and slammed my armored fist into his face, feeling his nose break beneath the blow. He went limp at once and tipped over backward, the short sword tumbling from his hand.

{Slaver Chainkeeper} has died!

You gained 300 experience!

A sound like thunder erupted from the room beyond, and I dashed over to the door that I’d entered through and tossed both of the deadbolts into place. A dull weight slammed into the door a moment later, and someone started pounding on it from the other side.

“Oh god” someone said, “they’re free, let us in—no, get away from me! Open the—” the voice gurgled and cut off. Then the screaming started in earnest.

My skin prickling all over, I sent my Constructor to scan the dead Chainkeeper as I leaned up against the door, holding one of the deadbolts in place, praying that nobody on the other side had a key.

I was a little wobbly on my feet, too; I checked my health and saw that it was at six percent. I hadn’t realized it had been quite so close. It made me wonder what else I was missing.

When it seemed like the door was secure, I staggered across the room and ransacked the slaver’s dresser but found nothing of note other than some copper coins, which I pocketed. I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand and recoiled at the feeling that followed; I was drenched in a layer of icy sweat.

I couldn’t seem to catch my breath, and the world was tilting, coming in and out of focus. The edges of my vision flashed green.

Frowning, I spotted a glowing piece of leather atop a nearby cabinet, so I queued it for pick up.

My Constructor chimed in a way that I hadn’t heard before.

Ding!

You found an Uncommon weapon!

{Poisoned Shortsword} has been added to your inventory.

I stumbled across the room, my Constructor almost slamming into me as we crossed paths. My vision swam as I pulled up details on the weapon I’d looted, and I had to squint to make out the details:

{Poisoned Shortsword}

Grade: F

Item level: 6

Quality: Uncommon

Damage type: Slashing

Physical Attack: 15

Magical Attack: 7

Speed: Fast

Effect: 25% chance on hit to inflict 30 poison damage over 30s. Target is unable to regenerate while under the effects of the poison.

Durability: 45/45

“Poisoned?” I said aloud. A series of messages, then, written in huge red letters:

Your hit points have been reduced to zero.

You have died.

You have 2 lives remaining.

You lost Experience and Renown.

You dropped several items.

Emergency Nano protocols have been initiated.

Inducing loss of consciousness.

The world went dark.