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Dark Continent

Growing up in a small secluded village high up in the mountains, Arko never expected much from life. But when his hometown was raided by orcs forcing him to run away, it seemed fate had more than an ordinary life in store for him. Even after the orcs declared the 1000 year holy war upon the continent, Arko didn't think much of it. but things start to change when he uncovers his ability to wield Aura - an energy that the continent's best warriors use to unleash apocalyptical attacks and wage war amongst each other. Follow Arko as he uncovers the mysteries off the continent, his past, and an old decrepit book. As he wages war against the mightiest of foes and ascends to the peak of of the continent. //---------------------- Cover illustration by John Anthony Di Giovanni. All credit goes to the artist. //---------------------- This novel is a mix of the classical fantasy genre and a light novel like power system, in a Medieval world with classic fantasy monsters and races.

Mytzi · Fantasie
Zu wenig Bewertungen
16 Chs

News of War

He had lost track of time, lost track of direction. As he kept walking he noticed the forest waking up, he could feel it. All kinds of birds were chirping, and the morning sun shone through the trees.

Arko decided his best bet would be to chose a landmark and simply walk towards it. As a way to make sure he wouldn't walk around un circles.

"That mountain over there should work" he mumbled to himself.

While he was walking Arko periodically looked up at the mountain, just to be sure. He also started picking up some berry's along the way.

Suddenly, while munching on some berries, he noticed something, The ground beneath his feet felt different – smoother, more compact – he had stumbled onto a manmade trail.

"Finally, a trace of civilization" he thought.

With newfound determination, he walked along the path, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

Two days of walking followed. The path led him around the mountain he was initially aiming for and down a long way. His surroundings morphed from towering trees to open glades, the air growing crisper as he ventured further.

And then, just as his energy was waning, a structure emerged from the edge of the woods. A tavern, a haven amidst the wilderness. Arko's heart leaped with relief, and he quickened his pace.

Entering the tavern Arko was surprised by the ambiance of the place - nothing like the one in his hometown, where the warm glow of lanterns and laughter used to fill the air.

Here the atmosphere was heavy, the customers where talking in low tones and the only light source was dull and flickering.

"Did you hear what happened to the Maverian kingdom ?" Said someone.

"Yes, I heard the capital of Mavaria was overrun by orcs." Responded a tavern client, a huge man with a sword strapped to his back.

"It cant be ! The their army marshal is an lord level aura user ! How could the orcs defeat him ?" Cried someone else.

Arko stood rooted at the entrance, stunned. "So that's why orcs where able to reach our mountain village" he thought. "They had already razed the Mavarian kingdom, which stood in between my old village and the Gushu orc tribe's ancestral grounds.

Clearing his mind of those disturbing events, Arko walked up to the tavern's bar area and slapped down a chunk of monster meat.

A skinny looking blond bar tender finally noticed arko standing there and reluctantly got up from his stool, setting down a large brown book next to him.

"What do you want kid ?" He said, looking quite bored.

"To sell this monster meat." Answered Arko.

This statement seemed to slightly interest the bartender, as he quickly approached him.

"What tier ?" Inquired the blond man.

"I'm not sure, appraise it yourself"

The bartender grunted in response, picked up a knife and cut off a small piece of meat, popping it into his mouth, raw. "Mhm decent vitality, should be a tier 2 monster." He said. "I'll give you 50 Elyndrian empire crowns for it."

"75" Said Arko.

"60, with a free meal and room." Countered the bartender.

"Deal"

The bartender then reached down into his coin bag, counted out 60 Elyndrian crowns and passed them over to Arko. He then dished out some hot soup from into a bowl, added some bread and passed it over as well.

He then gave Arko a room key and said: "You can stay the night, but come morning, I'll expect you to be on your way."

Arko nodded, turned around and found a seat close to the only table with customers. As he savored the meal, he listened to the conversation going on next to him.

"The marshal died in a one versus one fight against an orc ? It can't be orc's are known to be awful at controlling aura, their warriors rely mostly on their superior physique to win fights ! They don't even have aura manipulation techniques !"

I'm not sure how its possible." Answered someone else, " but rumor has it their new chief has recovered their ancestors teachings and it allows the best orc fighters to match ours. Combined with a superior physique, the Gushu tribe is going to be a nightmare to smaller kingdoms.

Having now finished his meal, Arko was deep in thought. He new the energy he had absorbed from the monster was aura, but listening to the mercenary's talk he realized he was missing a crutial element: an aura manipulation technique.

Standing up Arko, walked to the stairs on the right side of the bar, presumably leading to the rooms. Looking down at his key, the number four was inscribed. He then proceeded to walk up the stairs and down a dimly lit corridor until he reached a door with the same number.

The room was quite bare, with the only furniture being a bed and a stool.

Before sleeping however, Arko wanted to experiment with his aura energy. He settled down cross legged on his bed and tried to perceive his aura. It took him a few seconds but he eventually made the connection. He first tried guiding the aura into his right arm, with mild success. The process was long and quite a bit more strenuous then he anticipated. After a few minutes of this he started to feel quite tired and decided to end this session, but to make it an everyday routine.

Removing the aged tome from his tunic, Arko placed it gently onto the bedside table, letting out a long sigh. It was his only memento from his deceased parents. Actually he wasn't even sure it was from them, the old farmer who had taken care of him as a boy had gifted it to him on his tenth birthday. He had told Arko it was the only thing his parents left him, an old book written in an incomprehensible language.

And as he settled into the bed, his exhaustion finally catching up with him, he allowed himself to drift into a deep and dreamless sleep.