The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] Chapter 47: Chapter 47: Monster. Silence.

Read chapter 47 of The Crack In Heaven [A LitRPG Progression Fantasy] by Adamus_Auguste on NovelPedia.

Chapter 47: Monster. Silence. The first dog, a nightmare of scars with eyes meaner than the worst thug Els had seen, lunged at Silma. Saliva thicker than stale water, layered with foam, trailed down its fangs. It didn't howl. It barked. Not in warning; in a promise of death. Silma didn't flinch. Her smile didn't even twitch. She yanked her empty right fist down as if gripping a blade while she swung her left fist offbeat horizontally. For a heartbeat, Els held her breath. It caught in her throat as a silver crescent moon formed in front of the lunging dog. Tonio squeezed her hand, even though Silma was much slower than he was. The dog crashed against the twin silvery arcs, its momentum unstopped, its fangs about to tear Silma's neck. Just as they snapped shut, its skull parted. The fangs never snapped. They couldn't. Instead, the dog's mouth split into four pieces that flew beside her. Its body followed, smashing the ground in a spray of blood and spilt organs. How... Before she could finish the thought, Silma cleaved upward. A curved dagger glinted in the lamppost light. It severed the shaft of the first arrow shot from the tannery's window, both metallic parts clanging at her feet. The next dog lunged, and a man rushed before Silma. He thrust his long spear into the open jaws of the dog, impaling and lifting it in the same motion. The dog whimpered, its blood slicking the shaft and dripping onto the rounded helmet of the man, down to his curved lips. "Leave it to us, leader." He swiped his spear at the pack, hurling the dog onto the others. The spearhead carved a line on the pavement, as if he challenged anyone to cross it. Another man sprang from the side, the red tassel of his sword fluttering. The blade found the eye of a dog. Before it could collapse, he beheaded another. Shields and blades crashed against the dogs from the sides and behind. As they fought off the encirclement of stray dogs, a man lifted his broad bow at the center of their formation. An arrow vanished from his quiver, reappearing on his drawn string. He released it, and another, and another, firing a barrage. Each of his arrows drilled through one of the Sump Dogs mid-flight. Metal shards rained around three women in revealing red silk. They danced beside the man, hurling spiked fans at the remaining arrows with each shift of their long, exposed legs. Their weapons sawed through projectiles before delicately landing between their fingers. They're not dancing. They guide them. They have truths. No... at least half of them anchored one! Even Tonio's warm palm didn't ease the icy shiver overtaking Els. But the deadliest of them all was still Silma. Her smile twisted like a knife in a wound each time blood soaked the sole of her shoes. "We can't waste time with small dogs when Garrick wants the old one, can we?" Her curved dagger vanished into her broad sleeve. A straight knife replaced it. Smaller... at first. Before Els' wide eyes, it grew longer than a sword, a spear, finally stopping when it reached the size of a beam thicker than a man. Drowned in the colossal shadow of her weapon, the men butchering the pack in front of Silma instantly fell back behind her. She swung it no slower than her curved dagger. It cleaved across the pack protecting the building in a perfect half-circle. Legs clawed at the ground, rushing for a couple more steps before stilling. Behind them, dozens of dogs' bodies collapsed to the ground. Dismembered in their charge. Bleeding beneath Silma's steps to the door. Her men moved, deflecting arrows, while questions tore at Els' mind Kael had told her about Brannick's surreal speed and strength. She had laughed it off as exaggerated or a poor joke to scare her. But Silma... she couldn't stop trembling... if she was that strong, then Kael must have told her the truth. And above them, the man who controlled these monsters... beneath the strangled whispers of those indebted to him, his reputation as the uncrowned lord of the slums... Sh