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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 · Fantasi
Peringkat tidak cukup
248 Chs

Chapter 199

It wasn't too long another pack tried to prove their bravery and were summarily killed to the last. That immediately put an end to the foolhardy "defenders of keelish pride". In fact, there were no keelish willing to go out on the hunt, since any keelish that got more than a mile away from the main body of the swarm was executed. We couldn't hunt, we couldn't escape, and we could only prolong the inevitable. I cursed myself for daring to think that we could ever slow down. Every time we were sidetracked, we could have made more headway. Every time I allowed the swarm to slow, I had worsened our situation. How could we survive at this point? We could only continue to try to flee. Trai was the first to begin complaining of hunger within my earshot.

"Dad. Hungry. Hungry!" She kept whining to Foire, and her piteous cries for something to eat tugged at my heart. It didn't take long before I approached Joral, and as soon as he saw me, he knew what I was going to command him.

"My pack and I will kill them, we'll give you the meat to distribute however you think it wisest."

"Just the goats. Leave the wolfstags for now, they could be useful in getting out of this mess."

Joral flared his frills and turned away. There was no reluctance in his movement, so I called out, "Joral."

"Yes, my Alpha?" He looked at me, trust obvious in his every movement.

"Thank you."

The scales around his head fluttered in a type of a blush. "I only did or do what any of the swarm should. But… thank you, Alpha. For trusting me, even though it was just a random whim of mine. I'm glad that it's letting us eat a little more now." Without another word, Joral went to slaughter his goats. Before long, the panicked bleats of the herd rose, then went silent. 

Twenty goat corpses were laid before me, and I had no idea of what to do with them. Trai had immediately gone to throw herself at them and eat her fill, but Foire had pulled her back. "We do not eat until the Alpha gives us permission."

She'd immediately stumbled to my side, begging the whole way, "Hungry! Food! Hungry!" With a slight smile, I reached down, cut a long, thin filet from one of the goat's thighs, and passed it to the hungry child. She grinned widely at me before tearing into the flesh, little bumps passing visibly down her throat and into her belly. "Nievtala, bless us with strength to overcome this." I prayed aloud, for the first time truly asking the goddess for some sort of blessing beyond what my [Status] displayed. In fact, I couldn't say why I knew what 'prayer' was, except for maybe some benediction given by my [Title] as [Disciple of Nievtala].

I was wholly unfamiliar with the idea of prayer to a being above me, much less a sense of devotion or divine respect, but for the first time, I did feel some sort of humility and respect towards this divine being called Nievtala. I could feel that I was on the cusp of Speaking another of the Words of Power, but there was something else I was missing. Something that I still needed to do. On a hunch, I bowed my head and spoke out loud, the words flowing freely but without the special sacred cadence that Speaking the Words of Power had before.

"Nievtala bless the devoted with victory.

Nievtala guide the hungry to conquest.

Nievtala build the weak into Disciples,

Nievtala make us free.

We will kill, we will conquer, we will follow, we will lead and we will bleed.

We will sacrifice our foes, ourselves, our blood, our lives.

Nievtala, guide us."

"Nievtala guide us." Those near me echoed the prayer, and the feeling that always preceded the Words swept over me. For the first time, though, I wasn't the only one to Speak at the same time.

"Through the tempering of the sacrifice of our lives are we complete." To my amazement, Foire, Sybil, Took, Vefir Wisterl, and Rulac Spoke the Words at the same time. There was a flashing [System] notification in the corner of my eye, but I didn't look at it immediately, instead locking eyes with the other six khatif who had, for the first time that I had seen, experienced the same influence over their actions that I did. I was about to speak when I felt Nievtala's presence, and from their reactions, so did the others.

I will do what I can. Do what you must. Live.

The more I felt her voice and presence, the better I could endure Nievtala's presence, so I was able to stay on my feet under the immense, nearly physical pressure of Nievtala's voice and will. The others, who could have heard a much larger phrase than I had initially, all fell to the ground. Trai rushed to her father's side, crying out unintelligibly, and I ran to Sybil. I cradled her head, alarmed to see the blood flowing from her nose and her eyes glazed over. Vefir would be who I would ask for help, but he was one of those injured! Before I could begin to lose all semblance of composure, Rulac's voice carried over to me, "That's what… you've heard… all this time?"

"Well, what'd you hear?"

"Just… a huge… feeling. Stronger than you and Redael together." He was quickly recovering and stumbled to his feet. "Felt like I needed to sacrifice what I needed to. Same for you Wisty?"

She simply grunted in assent as Vefir struggled to his feet and began to try to give little pick-me-ups to the khatif who were attempting to recover. Sybil was the last to stand, and she continued leaning heavily against me as she stood, even after Vefir had ministered to her briefly. "That was painful, Alpha. I do not believe that would ever become less… agonizing. Nonetheless, I am already feeling better, and no longer feel hungry. I will let you know if the feeling returns."

"Huh. Same here," "Me too," and several flares of the frills echoed the thought, and I realized I needed to check my [Status] to see if I could understand what was happening.

[The user has discovered the True iteration of the Second of the Words of Power of Nievtala. The user has been blessed with the greater blessing of zealotry. The user has been granted the Skill: Fanatic's Fortitude.]

[New Skill: Fanatic's Fortitude; a Skill with passive and active properties. When passive, Fanatic's Fortitude facilitates and reinforces the Skill holder's rate of recovery while giving a 10% reduction to the cost of using Skills. When active, Fanatic's Fortitude blesses the Skill holder with a feeling of satiety and a nearly bottomless well of stamina. The duration and profundity of the Skill's active effects are directly correlated to the depth of the connection between the Skill holder and the object of their devotion. As the Skill Holder is one of one Disciples of Nievtala in the world and is the most highly ranked of all of Nievtala's followers currently alive, there is a static 50% boost to the Skill's effects. In addition, if there are five or more Skill holders in the same area who are using the Skill's effects at the same time, the Skill's effects will become an aura whose area of effect is directly correlated to the depth of the connection between the Skill holder and the object of their devotion. As the Skill Holder is one of one Disciples of Nievtala in the world and is the most highly ranked of all of Nievtala's followers currently alive, and those around the user are the most highly ranked devotees of Nievtala, the aura that the user projects when using the active effects of the Skill in tandem with those devotees around the user is: 39 ft. This Skill can evolve. Evolutionary requirements hidden.]

I fought to understand the massive [Skill] I'd just acquired, but as I struggled to understand my circumstances, I began to gain a little more hope for our survival.

Thanks for reading!

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