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Pushing Back Inevitability

The God of War from the world of Efra, Roki, sets his eyes on Earth and begins the process of invasion. The dormant gods of our world stir for the first time in millennia to call forth mortals to push back against the inevitable. Lawrence Able is a failed writer; still living at home with his parents. He is by all accounts, a loser, yet still those fickle gods find some ember of potential in him and send him an invite in the form of a popup on his computer. Overhauling this series, as I'm not happy with certain things. I hope to see you all on the other one!

Tall_Owl · Fantasia
Classificações insuficientes
109 Chs

Desperate Prayer

The air floods from my lungs as the column of wind slams against my core and tosses me backward into the wall. The marble catches me as I slide down onto the floor. I raise my arms over my head and defend my throat as a volley of arrows is shot toward me. Four fall off; either skirting uselessly off the plated gauntlets or falling as they fail to punch through the linked chain, one, however, found its way through the spaces between the plates of the gauntlet and into my arm. There was a brief moment of pain before...nothing. The Ratman mage stood quietly smirking on the other end, as the first of the Ratmen emerged from the rushing waters of the canal. It was hard to push myself up with one arm.

I glance at Shawn. He is fighting valiantly, yet here I was...holding him back. If I died, these creatures would circle around to him, and overtake him. I pressed my back against the wall. It'd be easier to stand this way. Take the pressure off my shaking legs, and make sure that I'm not surrounded...wait a minute. There's a way out of this. I grab my staff and began to move with my back pressed against my back. There had to be. The closest Ratman; one with two golden rings glimmering on its tail, charged forward and stabbed with its pike. The point closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye and pinned me to the wall as it stabbed through the shoulder of my dead arm.

I grab hold of the shaft of the spear and yanked it forward until the Ratman was closed enough so that I could hold it in place by its arm. I press the head of the staff against the creature's forehead; holding it by the tips of my finger and thumb.

"You that bind the All, move for me."

A great force emerged from the tip of the staff and shot up, and with a loud snap the neck of the Ratman dangled backward; its dark eyes focused on those approaching. Another volley of arrows. I pull the Ratman close and let its body absorb the blows. Another gust of wind rushed around me as another column of air slammed into the arrow-strewn back of the dead Ratman. I let go of it and dive to the side. The body of the Ratman splatters against the wall where I had been standing. I pull the point of the pike out of my shoulder, and the arrow out of my leg.

"By the light —"

Another invisible blast steals my words. Damn it, What can I do? Three more had emerged from the river and discarded the ropes from their waist. Two approached Shawn, and the other approached me. I suppose it thought I was done for anyhow. Even half the archers now turned their attention to Shawn. His tower shield was done, and he was now fighting with a round shield. How can someone be that quick?

The soaked Ratman ran at me. Two curved blades raised in a guard in front of it. I raise the staff futilely. I'm going to die. I know that I needed to be fast... I couldn't cast a spell, because the moment I would be silenced, I had to do something else... If I was going to die, I was going to take as many of them down with me as I could. I would do my part in the war. Even if I died, however, I know Shawn was a good enough man to look after Clio and Shadow. At least there's that off my mind.

I throw my staff like a javelin at the oncoming Ratman. It knocks it aside with the flat of its blades; the temporary drop in the guard allows me to close the distance between it and get it in a one-armed clinch. From this distance, it couldn't cut me. At this distance, it would be hard to stab me, though I could feel it try to penetrate the well-made chain with the point of its blade. I sink my teeth into the neck. Its wiry fur gags me; the foul taste of its rancid flesh and black blood floods my mouth

It pulls away. Or at least tries to. I lean against it with all of my weight and hold it still with one arm draped over it, and work to tear its throat out. It was all I could think of at that moment. The extra layer of flesh and armor would offer protection against the arrows, but even then, I could see the large Ratman hop into the canal as four more emerged, soaking. I pull back and tear a large, malformed chunk out of its throat. It gurgles and falls atop me, as the curved blades fall from its grasp and clatter against the floor. I let it fall over me.

I needed something new. I couldn't do this with all of them...think, Lawrence, think. What spell could help me out of this? Djinn's Dance? No, that would be too little, and the mixture of wind and water would slam through it again, and I'd be in a worse spot. Ensnare? No. Earthen Spike? No. No, no no. I need something new.

Something elemental would be too weak just starting out...something stronger, then? In the introductory page of the audiobook I listened to earlier today, there was a section about invoking gods. Theurgy, I believe was called. That's probably what it would take to make sure that I can help Shawn make it out of here. A god's help.

What god? Jehovah? Yahweh? What other gods were there? My mind raced. The Ratmen drew closer, and the mage had begun to speak its incantation toward Shawn. A howling gale had begun to whirl around it. I back up until my bank sinks into the gel-like surface of the Fogwall; still clutching the body of the Ratman in front of me. It'd be a shield, and I'd be able to deflect at least one blow. The large Ratman emerges from the canal and approaches the bridge.

There was only one other god that came to my mind. Not that I had any love for mythology growing up, but my 5th-grade teacher made sure to teach us a little bit of it; specifically Greek. I would probably have to make the incantation groveling and pleading. Would he answer, or would I die? Regardless, it was the only choice I have.

"Oh, Zeus." I begin. I feel a bit of energy enter through the crown of my head as if I were beginning the incantation of Lesser Heal.

"Thou King that sits upon the vaunted Throne of Olympus," this energy feels...different. Less warm. As it seeps into my brain I feel as if someone had grabbed hold of my brain and shook it.

I continue speaking. "...heed my plea, and aid me at my darkest hour."

A flash of light steals my vision, and a loud roar like the crack of a cannon rumbles through the marble halls of the aqueduct.

Weekly updates here, near daily updates on my Patreon. Though with certain familial things happening in my life, it slowed down a bit this week. Everything should be sorted now, however.

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A shout out to my four Patrons:

Yaeltra

Age-Rich

Colin Clark

The Founder 12.

Book 1 is up for Pre-order here: https://amzn.to/3G4nkaK

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