Dragon Heart: Sea of Sand. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 4

by Kirill Klevanski

  Low, one-story brick houses sat on either side of the street. Lanterns shone with delicate white light. Few people got the opportunity to go to the surface, and the locals told legends about the sun the same way people spoke about Underworld City on the surface.

  Soon, outbuildings and a bridge, beyond which pastures and farms lay, replaced the houses. There were some wells there, from which copper pipes snaked out, hidden under the rocks. The witch finally stopped once she got there.

  “You’re late, Tilis,” a short, stout man with a paunch grumbled.

  “Next time, send a servant who doesn’t have his own seed splashing around in his head to fetch me,” Tilis snorted.

  Of the six people present, two of whom were armed with a sword and spear respectively, only Tilis was a woman, but no one commented on her caustic remark.

  Anyone who had studied at the Underworld City School knew very well how sharp the two witch-sisters’ tongues were. And since every citizen of the city had studied there...

  “The sentry spells signaled,” the potbellied man continued, “that there are two strangers at the entrance to the City. One of them has the Sage’s amulets, but they don’t belong to him.”

  The people looked at each other and whispered. The Sage personally forged and issued a special amulet-seal to everyone who went to the surface. Only by using that amulet could they come back. The locals didn’t understand why they needed a key, and why it was impossible to return home without it, but they didn’t argue.

  “Whose amulets are they?” Tilis asked.

  The man winced and looked away.

  “Whose are they, Ramukhan? Don’t avert your eyes!”

  “I'm sorry, Tilis...”

  A wild, despairing cry filled the cave.

  ***

  His consciousness did its best to leave Hadjar, but his strong willpower kept it in line. Einen wasn’t moving anymore. Viscous, thick blood flowed down his back and head. Hadjar wanted to scream, to call for help, but he couldn’t. He had no strength left.

  The wind ruffled his hair and tattered clothes. Here, at the top of the mountains, it was strong and cold. Where was the entrance to Underworld City located? Most would’ve presumed it was in a deep cave or at the bottom of a chasm. However, that wasn’t the case. The entrance to the mythical Underworld City was at the top of a mountain. Surrounded by golden clouds, among the mountain peaks piercing the sky, it looked like the open maw of an ancient, frozen monster. In its throat, a hole gaped, covered in ivy.

  Hadjar had listened to a lot of Serra’s stories about her homeland. He’d hoped that she herself would one day lead him through its stone halls, show him the famous white lanterns and the luminous ceiling.

  For an instant, Hadjar even thought that the witch had really appeared at the dark entrance. His brother’s wife. It was only a trick of his tired mind, however. Holding a staff in front of her, the red-haired witch looked at him with hatred. She probably did, like all witches and beautiful women, really have something in common with Serra, but no more than that.

  Her plump, scarlet lips said something, and golden hieroglyphs spun around the staff. Hadjar would’ve perhaps defended himself from her spell if he’d been less injured and weary. Right now, though, he could only look at death as it came for him.

  “Wait, Tilis!” Someone urged.

  A potbellied man appeared in front of Hadjar. The bells on his red, curved shoes made a funny noise as he moved.

  “Step aside, Ramukhan! I’ll send this bastard to his shameful ancestors!”

  A flash of light blinded Hadjar. She launched a stream of golden, orange-streaked flame from her staff. The potbellied man whispered something and drew a small semicircle in the air with his own staff. A wall of actual steel appeared around him, and the stream of fire broke against it.

  Damned True Path, Hadjar thought. No merely adequate Technique would’ve been capable of something like this, not even the tricks that Shakh had used.

  “Let me go, chekhars!” The red-haired witch growled after she was wrapped up in strong ropes.

  “She’s crazy!” The man controlling the ropes snarled. “Take her to a cell, lock her in there, and report this to the Sage. Let him decide what to do with his disciple.”

  The screaming and wriggling, tied up, red-haired witch was dragged to the entrance. Her screams reached Hadjar. They contained promises to kill him, terrible curses, and insults aimed at his ancestors. Or as Nero would’ve put it, the standard set of a very dissatisfied person.

  Even his unyielding willpower couldn’t hold back unconsciousness any longer. Before the world plunged into darkness, Hadjar saw the potbellied man leaning down toward him.

  “Those are good eyes, stranger. With them, you’ll survive in the Pit...”

  Then everything was darkness.

  Chapter 332

  Heavy, black clouds streaked across the sky. Several figures stood atop a cliff. They watched soldiers fighting at the foot of the cliff. Hundreds of thousands of men, clad in light leather armor, were attacking an enemy fortification.

  Giants that had been hired in the Empire by the defenders of the city roared defiantly. Using their enormous maces, they scattered the soldiers of the Sunshine Army in many different directions. The sand covered the dead bodies. Scarlet blood shone in the light of the burning sky.

  The massive city walls seemed impregnable, but the people on the cliff were certain that they would fall.

  At the highest point of the castle, extending far beyond the mountain ridge, a head peeked out cautiously. It was the old sheikh, who had long ago forgotten how to hold a saber properly. He was afraid to leave his palace and fight Sankesh.

  He had been a Spirit Knight once... Now he had only the title, but none of the power. For thousands of years, the sheikh hadn’t taken up his weapon. By the Evening Stars, he was afraid that he’d already grown so weak that he would only be able to handle a single Heaven Soldier, nothing more.

  At the foot of the walls, the battle was in full swing. Flashes of Techniques and spells made the air shimmer. Burning stones, boiling tar, and oil fell from the parapets and onto the besiegers’ heads as they climbed up the stairs. A dozen giants, forty feet tall, easily did enough fighting for thousands of practitioners. Their steps made the ground rumble, their blows shook the air. However, even these monsters that the sheikh had spent a lot of money on couldn’t hold back the onslaught of the Sunshine Army.

  Sankesh’s troops got even closer to the walls. Massive cannons were turned toward the central gates. Enormous and heavy, these cannons could’ve leveled many fort walls in Lidus, but here they were considered a common siege tool.

  “Cowardly dog,” somebody cursed.

  Sankesh didn’t even turn around. His crimson cloak fluttered in the wind. Legends said that he’d soaked it in the blood of thousands of his defeated enemies and, though it had once been white, it was now as red as the blood it had been steeped in. He’d never denied the stories. Fear was sometimes more useful than even the most ferocious army. His wavy, black hair lay across his broad, muscular shoulders and mighty chest. Across his midsection, a golden tattoo of the rising sun seemed to shine brightly.

  Sankesh didn’t wear armor over his chest. Each of his opponents could see his bronze skin, covered only by the tattoo, and without any scars. This was how Sunshine Sankesh demonstrated his power and military prowess: not a single sword or arrow had ever touched him and the proof was right there, plain for all to see.

  Heavy, golden bracers on his forearms were the only armor he wore. Instead of a belt, he wore a wide, silk sash fastened to a light chain armor skirt. His bare, strong legs looked capable of crushing the walls of the besieged city on their own. They were only protected by golden greaves.

  Sankesh leaned on a heavy ax. A mighty desert stallion stood nearby. It was so huge that, to an ordinary person, it would’ve seemed like a monster. To Sankesh, it was a loyal friend who’d often helped him out in even the most difficult situations.
The animal’s eight powerful hooves kicked up sparks as they stamped on the rocky soil beneath.

  Behind Sunshine Sankesh, riding simple horses, was a group of northerners. Not the kind that came from Lidus or Balium, little more than pampered, thin-skinned, grimy beggars. These were real northerners. They had golden hair. Their eyes were clearer than the purest water. The skin was as white as bone. Even here, in the desert, they still wore heavy armor. Decorated with numerous patterns, it radiated an aura of cold. Each of the nine horsemen was a Heaven Soldier, ranging from the Initial to the Peak stage.

  Their helmets, crowned by the horns of wild, lethal creatures, inspired fear and respect at the same time.

  Sankesh had chosen them to be his personal bodyguards due to that particular trait. The northerners from Darnassus respected fear. They were still, even during the heyday of civilization, offering up bloody sacrifices to Derger during celebrations and holidays.

  “He isn’t a man! He’s a terrified young virgin!”

  The northerners laughed amicably. Their accents were like the grinding of a millstone and the roar of a hearth combined. Their massive figures made the thin desert dwellers tremble.

  Sankesh was grateful for the old war that had caused him to live in the north for almost half a century. He’d become stronger there, his body had been tempered, and even his presence had grown more potent. After that experience, he’d been able to return home and claim the Crown of the Desert.

  “My Lord,” a gentle voice beckoned. However, by the Evening Stars, the one who succumbed to its sweetness would be a fool to do so. Arliksha, Sankesh’s daughter, had long been on the verge of becoming a Spirit Knight. Her illusion Techniques were so refined that, even as a child, she had been able to mislead everyone, even her father.

  His daughter held a long leather leash. At the other end, a little girl was twitching nervously. She was wearing a torn caftan, had disheveled hair, bruises on her face, broken nails, and her bloody hands seemed to have strips of skin peeling off of them.

  Her legs were injured and she wasn’t wearing any shoes. An affliction of the sands was already rising up her calves — her skin was covered in a white crust, and soon it would peel and fall off. It the girl didn’t get treatment for it soon, her bones would be exposed to the harsh air in no time.

  “Stand up, Arliksha.” Only when talking to his daughter did Sankesh express any emotion. Some said that he’d copied this trait from his Teacher, Rahaim.

  “I’ve brought the Key,” his daughter tugged at the leash and little Serra fell onto the stones. Even after landing on her face because she’d been unable to put her hands up to protect it, she didn’t even cry out or sob in pain.

  Sankesh tilted his head and walked closer. Squatting down, his curiosity nearly overwhelming, he examined the creature that was so ancient that she could remember when there’d been a real sea here, instead of the Sea of Sand.

  “Don’t you feel any pain, Key?” He asked.

  Serra looked up at her captor. The look was full of both the scorn of a small child and the fury of a being that was millions of years old. She wasn’t human, but a creature that the inhabitants of the Mage City had made long ago.

  “You’ll die soon.”

  “Maybe,” Sankesh shrugged. “Or maybe not... if I become an Immortal or a God.”

  Sera shook her head and wiped away the blood from her broken lips and nose.

  “Even if you do, you’ll die soon regardless.”

  Sunshine Sankesh arched his left eyebrow.

  “Hadjar will kill you!” Serra cried out with all the anger a child was capable of. “He’ll come to rescue me and he’ll kill you. And your whole army. All of you! He’ll kill you all!”

  Sankesh’s lips curled into a wide grin. He took Serra by the scruff of her neck like a kitten and, his arm outstretched, held her over the cliff.

  “Look, Key! Look at the greatness of a future god!”

  Fire was burning in the city. It had fallen to the might of the Sunshine Army. The giants, defeated, lay on the bloody sand. The broken walls collapsed right before their eyes. The massive gates turned into a pile of rubble. Millions of soldiers rushed into the city, the battle cry of the army on their lips. They chanted “Sunshine!” over and over and they looked like insane, predatory creatures. The citizens cried and screamed in anguish, the statues fell, the houses and fountains collapsed. Like locusts, Sankesh’s army leveled the city.

  “He’ll kill you all!” Serra’s face showed no fear. Her voice sounded firm and confident. “Because Hadjar is a dragon!”

  “Dragon?” Sankesh snorted. His pride was hurt by the child’s apparent fearlessness. “Can your Hadjar do this?”

  Throwing the Key behind him, Sankesh lifted his ax over his head. No dragon, no city, and no army could stop him, as he was a future god.

  Golden energy swirled around Sunshine Sankesh. It assumed the form of a huge tornado and pierced the blazing sky. Lightning struck the battlefield. With a roar, Sankesh swung his ax down hard.

  “Executioner of Cities!” He roared out.

  Serra’s eyes widened in horror as the city was bathed in golden flames, and then disintegrated into hundreds of pieces. With a cry, the sheikh of the city died in the attack as well, unable to defend from it.

  Finally seeing fear in the girl’s eyes, Sankesh grunted in satisfaction.

  ***

  “Serra!” Hadjar opened his eyes.

  Afterword

  Hello folks!

  If you liked my book, please consider leaving a review. I have these books translated out of pocket, and your review will help me to hold on in the rating and fund the translation of the rest of the series as quickly as possible.

  Thank you!

  If you have no opportunity to review on Amazon, here are my publish pages:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/kir.droi

  Good Reads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18868579.Kirill_Klevanski

  Today is written 14 books of 20. The 15th one is in the process. Four books are translated and released. The editing of the 5th book is in the process. The 6th book is being translated as well.

  The 5th book

  of the series “Sea of Sorrow” you can read

  IN THE PROCESS OF IT’S TRANSLATING a chapter by chapter on RoyalRoad.com.

  Publishing of the first chapters will start in January.

  Here is the link for the 5TH BOOK:

  https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/22034/dragon-heart-stone-will-litrpg-wuxia-series

  Let me introduce you one more of my series in urban realrpg and fantasy genre. The 1st book of Dark Wizard Case is released.

  LINK IS HERE

  Alexander Dumsky, or Alex Doom, was a dark wizard. At the age of seventeen, he was convicted of a litany of crimes so long that even the seasoned investigators, judges, and prosecutors involved in the case could only shudder.

  Not a single attorney could be found to defend him in court.

  But four years later, Alex was released from prison to become the Professor of Dark Magic. They'd thrown him into the deepest hole they could find, one built for the sole purpose of holding wizards, and then they let him back out again...

  Why him? Why then?

  Oh, you're not surprised to hear talk of wizardry? Well, then you probably know that the Magic Lens, which was invented in 2032, let humans see and use magic again.

  Or do you know?

  I would like to recommend you several new books of the Russian authors

  Valery Starsky: Transformation [LitRPG series. Book I]

  Hurry up to read NEW RealRPG book by Valery Starsky! Read about the post apocalypse of the Earth, dark elves and majestic, sublime dragons.

  Rick Scar: [Player reached the Top]

  The world of 100 stages waits for you

  Sergey Belsky: Monster [The Beetle]

  MC is a beetle in the unususal Underground World

  Dan Sugralinov: [Level up]

  Hugely motiva
ting realRPG in our Real World.

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