Bloodletting Part 1: The Affinities Cycle Book 1 by Mark Ryan Read Free Book Online Page B

capable of damping their abilities, the orocs had simply overpowered the humans. Jagged spikes erupted from the ground below the first rider.
    The Drayston unit was ready. Both Vorten soldiers used their control of air to create gales between the horses’ legs while the Gravitons dispersed the density of the spikes, lightening them till they were just loosely packed dirt. The Magnuses grabbed the iron in the dirt, forcing it to repel itself. As the horses galloped forward, spikes exploded in puffs of dust. Reynolds grinned.
    Bestial fury filled the air as a basso roar rang out through the trees. A small, sword-wielding figure covered in mud and leaves leapt from the overhang above the orocs. The sergeant instinctively used his Tempest affinity. A rare affinity, and often of low magnitude in humans, it enhanced his perception of time. Everything around him slowed down.
    The screaming dropped to a lower pitch and he made out the shape of a young man beneath the dirt and leaves. Light blurred as time slowed. Reynolds swung his left leg over his horse’s head and dropped to the ground, rolling away. Straining, Reynolds eased the horse back into standard time flow so the additional speed of snapping out of fast time wouldn’t break its legs. He came to his feet in a fluid motion, drawing his sword as he sprinted forward.
    The oroc to the rear looked up. In the air above him, the boy was falling, screaming as he flew through the air. A sword was raised over his head. The oroc raised its stone club to block the incoming blow, swinging its other hand in a wide arc to swat the boy out of the air. Even with the added force of his drop, the boy’s attack couldn’t possibly overpower the strength of an oroc or its Tecton crafted weapon. The boy would die before Reynolds or his men could do anything.
    Reynolds looked for any way to save the boy, which looked impossible. Tempest magic was unstable. The longer one affected time, the stronger the normal flow of events would fight to synchronize. If anything, Reynolds might be able to distract the oroc, but he didn’t have much time beyond that.
    Reynolds ducked and rolled between two spikes, swing his sword as he regained his feet. He released the hilt at the arc of his swing’s force. The sword snapped out of Reynolds’ Tempest time and shot forward. Reynolds lost his grip on time. It snapped back, whiplashing for a brief moment, making everything around him move insanely fast. The sword burst into flame, a meteor hurtling towards the oroc’s back. But it still wasn’t fast enough.
    The boy brought his sword down in a grand arc. It met the oroc’s Tecton-crafted stone club. The sergeant’s eyes widened as the club shattered, rocky shards flying in all directions. The oroc’s mad swat hit the boy as the sword shattered the club, sending him flying. Sword spun one way while boy flew the other. Before the oroc could finish the job, Reynolds’ sword pierced its back, the fiery blade slamming through its body leaving a gaping hole. The boy slammed into the ground as the oroc fell, spurting midnight blue blood.
    Combat erupted as he reached the boy and turned him over. Mud and blood caked him, both his and the nearly black oroc blood. At least several major bones broken, and the blood soaked the rags wrapped around his waist—a wound he must’ve sustained earlier, likely during the massacre of his village. He lived, though just, and thankfully had fallen unconscious or he would’ve been in agonizing pain.
    An inhuman scream drew the sergeant’s attention back to his men. His men were working carefully as paired teams, four men per oroc. Magic flew through the air. Humans, on the whole, were weaker as individuals than the other races. Rather than the more spectacular magic that sundered earth and changed the shape of the battlefield, his men tended towards using their magic to personally enhance combat.
    Reynolds didn’t stop to watch. Retriggering his Tempest affinity, time