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Ashlani's Reincarnation [a LitRPG Adventure]

As a soon-to-be chieftain, Ashlani's responsibilities were numerous, complex, and often boring. As a recently reincarnated keelish (a reptilian pest), his responsibilities only extend to 1. survive another day, 2. keep his belly full, and 3. kill anything that keeps him from numbers 1 and 2. Oh, and, if the opportunity arises, take revenge on his friend turned brother turned murderer. Ashlani was sent on his inaugural hunt as the chieftain-to-be of his tribe when he was shot in the back by the man he was closest to, the one he called his closest friend. Post-mortem, he was greeted by a [System], the elect, singular keelish representative. Now, his focus must be on continuous growth and evolution, to awaken to his grand potential, and lead his new people to a new age. This is a reboot of my previous novel, Ashlani's Reincarnation, a grimdark take on a LitRPG reincarnation novel. This is a slower, more methodical approach to story, and I hope that its quality will reflect that. I update five times a week, usually weekdays, but if I miss a weekday, I make it up over the weekend.

No_creative_name · Fantaisie
Pas assez d’évaluations
248 Chs

Chapter 162

I couldn't say what I had been expecting, but I knew I'd thought there would be some… pomp, or presentation, or showboating. That was not what happened. Before I realized it, the hundreds of keelish of the swarm filled in around us, leaving only a circle maybe twenty feet across with Redael and I across from each other within it. Behind me, my supporters clambered over each other, trying to get to where they could best see me, and their cries of support swelled, filling the air. On the other side of the dueling ring, hundreds of keelish screamed their support of Readel in opposition to me, and I shook my head in undisguised disgust for their foolishness.

With the momentary pause, I sized up my opponent. Though I hadn't had the opportunity to truly observe myself, given the lack of shining steel or dark, still waters, I could see the resemblance between us. Never before had I stood before Redael in the light of day, but both of our scales shone a dark gray, mine more silver than his, and I didn't see any with that same coloration in the crowding keelish. Beyond that, I could nearly guarantee that I had received [Bloodlust] from him in some respect, since I was convinced he was some sort of bloodletter adjacent evolution.

Since my evolution to khatif, I stood head and shoulders above him, but even for a keelish, he wasn't so imposing as Rulac, or even some others of his most highly ranked keelish like Wisterl. She stood in the center between the two of us, obviously excited to watch the fight. I refocused my mind, continuing to evaluate Redael. I stood maybe a foot taller than him? Maybe more? It was hard to tell, since his mere presence made me feel like I was almost looking up at him, not down. I estimated that I outweighed him by over 150 pounds, and my reach was longer, but I could also be sure that he would be quicker than me.

I tried to continue my evaluations of my enemy, but they were interrupted by Redael surging forward to attack me. His attacks were blisteringly quick, and his hands, tipped with wickedly sharp curved claws like my own, whipped out repeatedly to try to savage my arms. With a panicked thought, I activated [Combatant's Bloodlust], and immediately I felt the descent of the cool rationale calm my panic. Redael was ferocious and focused. He was subtly concentrating on one spot–my right shoulder.

As I stepped backward twice while deflecting his blows, my [Skill] boosted mind quickly put his focus into context. Redael knew I had wounded my right shoulder before, that it was a weakness of mine, and then, last night he had seen it covered in my own blood. Of course he thought that was still my most easily seized weakness, it always had been.

Without thinking to do so consciously, I began to fight as if I were trying to hide a weakness in that arm. I blocked two strikes from his left arm onto my right hand's scales, parrying as if it were simple for me, but that while keeping that shoulder from moving very much. It was an awkward movement and thought process, but if I could convince Redael that my right side was weak, then he would press that "advantage" until he thought I would break, and that would be when I could most easily strike back.

Even though [Combatant's Bloodlust] weakened it, my khatif blood raged against even the appearance of weakness, that this lesser creature could even begin to think himself as superior to me, especially since Redael's supporters felt me constantly giving way to their chosen Alpha and jeered at me for every retreated step. Even so, I needed to allow Redael to think that he had the upper hand over me to more easily ensure my victory without sustaining any wounds. I continued dodging and blocking his blows, and I was struck by how powerful they were, even though his frame was so much smaller than my own. Even so… Redael was less than I'd thought he would be.

He was fast, violent, practiced, and strong, but he was nowhere near as strong as Took, nor as fast as Foire. He wasn't as practiced as Wisterl… and his violent intent was nothing compared to my own.

Finally, it was time, and I struck. I feigned exhaustion in my right shoulder and let my guard sag. Immediately, Redael pounced on the opportunity, his claws going to shred deep into my shoulder and fully cripple me. Instead, I ducked low, my chest nearly reaching the ground as his blow skittered off my back before I lunged out with my right hand, all claws pointed and ready to tear into flesh. They dug deep into the meat between his ribs, but Redael retreated before I could puncture his lung. Even so, a chorus of cheers filled the air from my supporters standing behind me as I spilled the first blood of the match.

An appreciative grin colored Redael's face as he realized what I had done, and he sighed to himself. As I went to press my advantage, he spoke. "I should've guessed. Clever."

I didn't let the Alpha respond as I pushed harder and faster, finally incorporating my right arm at its full strength. Still, I held back my magic, prepared for an eventual reveal of his own magic and needing my sonilphon at full capacity to counteract whatever it was that Redael could do. As the duel continued and Redael's strength continued flagging from his constantly spilling blood, though, I realized that if Redael had magic, he would have used it already.

This duel, this fight that I had dreaded for days and weeks, the fight that I had deliberately continued to push back in the fear that I wasn't prepared yet, was difficult, but not anywhere near so dangerous as my fight against the Earthspeaker. I deliberately stopped [Combatant's Bloodlust] and instead quickly drew enough magic to my throat to use one of my newest [Skills].

The [Crippling Cry] smashed into Redael almost like a physical blow, and he immediately began stumbling instead of his previously graceful constant movement. While he still reeled from my magical blow, I stepped forward and with my right arm, stabbed through his heart. With the scraping of scale on scale, Redael went limp and fell from my hand and to the ground. I stood in somber silence, and my father's voice softly carried up to me.

"I… figured you would… win someday. You were… faster than we… expected." A rattling cough wracked his body as he slowly died, and I lowered myself to be able to better listen to his last words. "You'll lead… our people… to something new.

"Victory… by fang… and blood." and then, his body went limp.

Around me, cheers erupted, howls of wolfstags filled the air, and excited exchanges were traded. Keelish from both sides, those who had always supported me and those who'd been on Redael's side alike, approached me and stepped around the obstacle on the ground. All the while, the corpse of my father began to cool between my feet.

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