Evgeny Schepetnov
Hunter. Stranger
© Shchepetnov V., 2018
© Design. Eksmo Publishing LLC, 2018
Cold. The leg is cold. So much so that a sharp prick of pain made him wince. Almost groaned. But he held back. Why scare mom? She has a hard time with him...
Stop! Cold?! LEGS - cold?! Hell yeah, he hasn't felt his legs in a long time! After the very accident when he broke his spine!
He reached out his hand, felt it - a leg like a leg, strong, muscular ... a scar.
Scar?! Never had scars! Were in other places! And on the thigh, right here, - it was not!
But this is not the main thing, the main thing is that the leg moves! The leg is alive!
Why is it so dark?! Why can't he see anything?!
He pulled up his legs, tried to sit up ...
Sparks from the eyes!
He slammed his head into something hard and cold.
No, he's not in his bed and not at home. You don't have to be seven spans in the forehead to understand this. Even silly - why didn't he understand this earlier?!
So. You need to calm down and think. Calmly, without hysteria and sudden body movements.
The last memory before THIS is that he drank a whole bottle of sleeping pills. Didn't want to live. Why should he live - a wheelchair user whose girlfriend married another!
Who needs it? Mothers? So she spent all the money that she earned on his treatment. An absolutely useless treatment that draws out funds and does not bring any result at all.
Ballast. A weight pulling to the bottom - that's who he is. Former handsome man, former budding doctor, former… biker. Damn that bike! Oh, if only you knew… if you could change. I wonder how many million people have said this?
But enough tantrums. He is an adult young man who turned out to be instead of the other world ... where ?! Damn it, maybe this is Purgatory? Maybe he really is in the next world, waiting for the decision of his fate?! Or rather, the fate of your soul.
Hmm... it doesn't say anywhere that the souls also really want to... hmm... in a small way. Yes, I want so much that at least do it in my pants! And if he, Oleg, doesn’t want to wet his pants, you need to hurry up ... Only now where hurry up?
OK. Nothing will happen in a couple of minutes, you need to act logically and consistently. First of all, he felt himself.
Pants...why not locked up? And in general - not even on the buttons! Some kind of bones, like those on which tourist tents were usually fastened.
The underpants are also strange ... Oleg hasn’t worn such underpants for a long time - some kind of “collective farm” underpants, almost to the knees. And… damn! Pants are not elastic! They are tied! Hmmm... the devil is in the details.
Okay, let's leave the pants alone. Jacket. The fabric is dense, somewhat similar to a raincoat fabric. Long jacket, almost to the knees. You could say it's like a cloak. Pleasant, smooth. And oddly warm. Warm? No, not as if heated by the fire, but warm - like live. It's like touching some big animal - a horse or a cow. Weird jacket.
Boots. Hmm... like boots. High, laced - something like berets, only softer. Although ... noses with metal inserts, and spikes on the inserts.
Damn it ... some kind of "skinhead", or what? These are the shoes they wear. To kick people.
Hairstyle ... By the way, what about the hairstyle? The hair is short, but cut somehow ... strange, or something. Although, what is strange - this is how they cut their hair in the US Army - everything around is shaved, and on the top of the head there is a short "hedgehog" - a Mohawk stripe.
Stop. Why so many scars on your head? Healed, old. And on the face of the scar - under the eye.
It flooded, red circles swirled in the eyes - the pressure jumped? No wonder - he lay and sat for so long, and now he immediately got up.
Crap. Well, what kind of nonsense? The body is someone else's. Exactly - someone else's body! Start with what the head is not.
What about hands? And someone else's hands. Strong, with swollen veins - like boxers or bodybuilders! Oleg's hands are smooth, young! And after the accident, when he lay bedridden, they became thin, like a girl's. Not counting the palms rubbed from the wheels of a wheelchair. And here - some rough, clumsy claws, and nothing more!
Op! And behind the back is a backpack. And not only a backpack - a hefty cleaver, such as a machete.
Ha! And on the forearms - only now I felt - on the knife!
Took it out. Sharp such, you can shave! Not throwable, no. If it were throwing, the blade would not be sharpened like that. In throwing weapons, only the point is sharpened, but the blade is not.
Hmm… where did that thought come from?! How does Oleg know about throwing knives?! And how does he know that he can throw these knives - no worse than professionals ?!
Dark as hell. The darkness needs to be dispelled.
Op! There is. Flash.
For eyes accustomed to the dark, just some kind of electric welding. But no - a small white light, a ball that has landed on the left shoulder.
Gosha! Where?!
He blinked, thought hard. And then he remembered - he did it himself! He moved his hands, somehow ... tensed up and - ap! The ball popped up! Where did you jump out from? But who knows him?
But now you can look around.
The jacket struck again - it was the same color as the stone floor on which Oleg was lying. And as soon as she moved, the fabric instantly changed color in the place where she touched the large red brick. Turned red as a brick. Chameleon jacket, that's what it is.
He took out a machete from the scabbard and was surprised ... this is not a machete! Sword! A real short sword, and Oleg suddenly “remembered” that he could hold it in his hands. And don't just keep it! The sword lay so comfortably in the palm of his hand that it seemed that he had always been there and was just waiting for the owner to take him into his “arms” again. Razor-sharp, with frosty pattern on the blade - Oleg read that it looked like damask steel, made of many rods and forged hundreds of times.
He pressed a little with the pad of his finger - and almost slashed to the bone! He automatically put his finger in his mouth, licking the cut, and then suddenly, with some confusion, he realized that he was now tasting stranger blood!
He pulled his finger out of his mouth, spat pink saliva on the floor, and… almost jumped back. Somewhere from behind a dark block on the right, near the wall, a thread jumped out, pierced into the bloody spit and began, like a syringe, to suck up the pink puddle. The spit immediately disappeared, and a tentacle - as thin as a thread, but with a visible hole at the end - reached out to Oleg, and the “nostrils” around this hole swelled, and Oleg felt exactly where they were reaching. To blood! To a small cut on the finger!
The hand rushed to the sword, the blade whistled - habitually, sharply, precisely, and the tentacle twitched, and then with unthinkable speed it flew back, behind a block, leaving a wriggling stump in place.
F-fuh-h-h! Oleg took a deep breath. Only now did he discover that he hadn't taken a single breath the entire time the tentacle had been rummaging around him.
So! From here you have to get out! He looked around, carefully assessing all the details. A huge hall, all strewn with blocks of stone, some of them reached the height of human growth. Not blocks - pieces of the destroyed wall. In the middle of the hall there is a recess, very similar to a funnel from an artillery shell. The ball dispersed the darkness by only ten meters, then the room was lost in the dark, but it was clear from the echo that its dimensions were large.
What's over your head? Crap. Overhead is a hefty slab, lying obliquely on two huge boulders. And Oleg is just under this stove. It is worth cracking it - and it's over!
Quickly, on all fours, he crawled out from under the stove, stood next to her, staggering slightly, either from weakness or from excitement (I'm standing! I'm standing on my feet again!). Then he unbuttoned his pants and...
Here I didn’t find much difference in the structure of the body, although, to be honest, I didn’t really look closely.
Having finished, I decided to see what kind of funnel it was - fortunately, the lamp-ball was still shining, although it did not reach the ceiling. This very ceiling was somewhere so high that the brain refused to accurately calculate the height. Well, very high! Highly! It looks like it was some kind of temple, because there are drawings on the walls, the content of which was not yet possible to make out. Like people, like some kind of landscapes, but it was impossible to understand something in the wrong reflections of the "lantern".
Night. Through the gaps in the dome you can see the starry sky, densely dotted with silver dots. From here it is not clear what kind of sky it is and whether there are familiar constellations on it, but which of them did Oleg know? Dipper buckets? What else? The Milky Way is just that. And nothing more. Well, who among the people is particularly interested in the stars, except for the most advanced astronomy fans and science fiction writers? No, that’s how Oleg loved science fiction and knew some names of the stars - Alpha Centauri, Proxima Centauri, Alcor, Betelgeuse, but if he had forced him to show where these stars are in the firmament, even under pain of death, he definitely would not have been able to. Even the North Star, and that one would not have been found - at least hit it with a stick! Alas, astronomy was not included in the list of his hobbies. Motorcycle yes! Medicine - yes, both a hobby and a job. But astronomy is not.
Death came for Sergar Semig, an experienced battle mage, but the Gods decided otherwise.
He woke up in a strange world, in the frail body of an invalid, without any of the magical superpowers that Sergar was used to in his previous life.
Our hero, looking around a bit, realizes that this world is full of scoundrels and swindlers, eager to cash in on the helpless and weak.
The fight continues: Sergar will become a Hunter.
Hunter. Someone will pay me for everything!
Battle mage Sergar Semig struggles to survive in the body of an invalid. And no artifacts will help him accept the new reality, except for himself.
Fortunately, Semigar acquires a new gift for himself - the gift of a healer. With a rational approach, you can live happily and comfortably, right? But the battle mage, who has gone through hundreds of battles, remembers those who profit from people - the destitute and helpless.
The magical "crusade" must continue...
Hunter. Tears are not believed here
And this human civilization is very good... The possibilities to earn money are practically unlimited. And how many options to spend them! You're just wondering.
Sergar Semig never thought that he would have so much money. The only thing that causes slight inconvenience is the lack of magic. But Sergar found a way to connect to the source of magical powers.
And woe to those who stand in the way of an experienced battle mage! Enemies will see no mercy.
Hunter. Stranger
Oleg thought that a good dose of sleeping pills would save him from a meaningless existence. Death did not frighten him: he was afraid of one thing - to spend his whole life in a wheelchair ...
But the unknown gods decided otherwise: Oleg found himself in a world where magic, mutants, monsters and sorcerers are commonplace.
Together with the body of the battle mage Sergar Semig, Oleg receives his memories and his problems.
And now the main thing to remember firmly - you can not trust anyone. For gullibility and openness to pay too high a price.
Evgeny Schepetnov
Hunter. Stranger
© Shchepetnov V., 2018
© Design. Eksmo Publishing LLC, 2018
Cold. The leg is cold. So much so that a sharp prick of pain made him wince. Almost groaned. But he held back. Why scare mom? She has a hard time with him...
Stop! Cold?! LEGS - cold?! Hell yeah, he hasn't felt his legs in a long time! After the very accident when he broke his spine!
He reached out his hand, felt it - a leg like a leg, strong, muscular ... a scar.
Scar?! Never had scars! Were in other places! And on the thigh, right here, - it was not!
But this is not the main thing, the main thing is that the leg moves! The leg is alive!
Why is it so dark?! Why can't he see anything?!
He pulled up his legs, tried to sit up ...
Sparks from the eyes!
He slammed his head into something hard and cold.
No, he's not in his bed and not at home. You don't have to be seven spans in the forehead to understand this. Even silly - why didn't he understand this earlier?!
So. You need to calm down and think. Calmly, without hysteria and sudden body movements.
The last memory before THIS is that he drank a whole bottle of sleeping pills. Didn't want to live. Why should he live - a wheelchair user whose girlfriend married another!
Who needs it? Mothers? So she spent all the money that she earned on his treatment. An absolutely useless treatment that draws out funds and does not bring any result at all.
Ballast. A weight pulling to the bottom - that's who he is. Former handsome man, former budding doctor, former… biker. Damn that bike! Oh, if only you knew… if you could change. I wonder how many million people have said this?
But enough tantrums. He is an adult young man who turned out to be instead of the other world ... where ?! Damn it, maybe this is Purgatory? Maybe he really is in the next world, waiting for the decision of his fate?! Or rather, the fate of your soul.
Hmm... it doesn't say anywhere that the souls also really want to... hmm... in a small way. Yes, I want so much that at least do it in my pants! And if he, Oleg, doesn’t want to wet his pants, you need to hurry up ... Only now where hurry up?
OK. Nothing will happen in a couple of minutes, you need to act logically and consistently. First of all, he felt himself.
Pants...why not locked up? And in general - not even on the buttons! Some kind of bones, like those on which tourist tents were usually fastened.
The underpants are also strange ... Oleg hasn’t worn such underpants for a long time - some kind of “collective farm” underpants, almost to the knees. And… damn! Pants are not elastic! They are tied! Hmmm... the devil is in the details.
Okay, let's leave the pants alone. Jacket. The fabric is dense, somewhat similar to a raincoat fabric. Long jacket, almost to the knees. You could say it's like a cloak. Pleasant, smooth. And oddly warm. Warm? No, not as if heated by the fire, but warm - like live. It's like touching some big animal - a horse or a cow. Weird jacket.
Boots. Hmm... like boots. High, laced - something like berets, only softer. Although ... noses with metal inserts, and spikes on the inserts.
Damn it ... some kind of "skinhead", or what? These are the shoes they wear. To kick people.
Hairstyle ... By the way, what about the hairstyle? The hair is short, but cut somehow ... strange, or something. Although, what is strange - this is how they cut their hair in the US Army - everything around is shaved, and on the top of the head there is a short "hedgehog" - a Mohawk stripe.
Stop. Why so many scars on your head? Healed, old. And on the face of the scar - under the eye.
It flooded, red circles swirled in the eyes - the pressure jumped? No wonder - he lay and sat for so long, and now he immediately got up.
Crap. Well, what kind of nonsense? The body is someone else's. Exactly - someone else's body! Start with what the head is not.
What about hands? And someone else's hands. Strong, with swollen veins - like boxers or bodybuilders! Oleg's hands are smooth, young! And after the accident, when he lay bedridden, they became thin, like a girl's. Not counting the palms rubbed from the wheels of a wheelchair. And here - some rough, clumsy claws, and nothing more!
Op! And behind the back is a backpack. And not only a backpack - a hefty cleaver, such as a machete.
Ha! And on the forearms - only now I felt - on the knife!
Took it out. Sharp such, you can shave! Not throwable, no. If it were throwing, the blade would not be sharpened like that. In throwing weapons, only the point is sharpened, but the blade is not.
Hmm… where did that thought come from?! How does Oleg know about throwing knives?! And how does he know that he can throw these knives - no worse than professionals ?!
Dark as hell. The darkness needs to be dispelled.
Op! There is. Flash.
For eyes accustomed to the dark, just some kind of electric welding. But no - a small white light, a ball that has landed on the left shoulder.
Gosha! Where?!
He blinked, thought hard. And then he remembered - he did it himself! He moved his hands, somehow ... tensed up and - ap! The ball popped up! Where did you jump out from? But who knows him?
But now you can look around.
The jacket struck again - it was the same color as the stone floor on which Oleg was lying. And as soon as she moved, the fabric instantly changed color in the place where she touched the large red brick. Turned red as a brick. Chameleon jacket, that's what it is.
He took out a machete from the scabbard and was surprised ... this is not a machete! Sword! A real short sword, and Oleg suddenly “remembered” that he could hold it in his hands. And don't just keep it! The sword lay so comfortably in the palm of his hand that it seemed that he had always been there and was just waiting for the owner to take him into his “arms” again. Razor-sharp, with a frosty pattern on the blade - Oleg read that damask steel looked like this, made of many rods and forged hundreds of times.
He pressed a little with the pad of his finger - and almost slashed to the bone! He automatically put his finger in his mouth, licking the cut, and then suddenly, with some confusion, he realized that he was now tasting stranger blood!
He pulled his finger out of his mouth, spat pink saliva on the floor, and… almost jumped back. Somewhere from behind a dark block on the right, near the wall, a thread jumped out, pierced into the bloody spit and began, like a syringe, to suck up the pink puddle. The spit immediately disappeared, and a tentacle - as thin as a thread, but with a visible hole at the end - reached out to Oleg, and the “nostrils” around this hole swelled, and Oleg felt exactly where they were reaching. To blood! To a small cut on the finger!
The hand rushed to the sword, the blade whistled - habitually, sharply, precisely, and the tentacle twitched, and then with unthinkable speed it flew back, behind a block, leaving a wriggling stump in place.
F-fuh-h-h! Oleg took a deep breath. Only now did he discover that he hadn't taken a single breath the entire time the tentacle had been rummaging around him.
So! From here you have to get out! He looked around, carefully assessing all the details. A huge hall, all strewn with blocks of stone, some of them reached the height of human growth. Not blocks - pieces of the destroyed wall. In the middle of the hall there is a recess, very similar to a funnel from an artillery shell. The ball dispersed the darkness by only ten meters, then the room was lost in the dark, but it was clear from the echo that its dimensions were large.
What's over your head? Crap. Overhead is a hefty slab, lying obliquely on two huge boulders. And Oleg is just under this stove. It is worth cracking it - and it's over!
Quickly, on all fours, he crawled out from under the stove, stood next to her, staggering slightly, either from weakness or from excitement (I'm standing! I'm standing on my feet again!). Then he unbuttoned his pants and...
Here I didn’t find much difference in the structure of the body, although, to be honest, I didn’t really look closely.
Having finished, I decided to see what kind of funnel it was - fortunately, the lamp-ball was still shining, although it did not reach the ceiling. This very ceiling was somewhere so high that the brain refused to accurately calculate the height. Well, very high! Highly! It looks like it was some kind of temple, because there are drawings on the walls, the content of which was not yet possible to make out. Like people, like some kind of landscapes, but it was impossible to understand something in the wrong reflections of the "lantern".
Without a second's hesitation, Oleg went to this couple, and when there were twenty meters to the people, he already opened his mouth to shout something like: “Don't be afraid! Friendship! Gum! Maclay is good!” - turning awkwardly, he knocked down a heavy cobblestone from a neighboring block, and with a loud thud it fell onto the pavement, giving a signal to the natives. And they immediately turned around.
Oleg froze with his jaw hanging almost to his chest. They were both people and not people - pale-skinned, with dark eyes-pupils, with fangs sticking out of their mouths (it could only be called a mouth with a stretch) - they looked like huge boars, whose heads were impaled on a human neck. The flattened noses looked like piglets, and this increased the resemblance to boars, emerging from nightmares and bad hangover visions.
And then everything started spinning at the speed of thought - both "boars" suddenly took off - without a roar, without grunting or any other sounds, deftly avoiding obstacles in the form of stones and embankments, rushed to Oleg, without showing their bad intentions. Unless you count those arms outstretched to the sides with crooked claws and a bared mouth with hefty, like a baboon's teeth!
Oleg himself did not remember how the sword ended up in his hand - instantly, by itself, automatically. With his first lunge, he cut the throat of the boar-man who ran ahead. While he was falling forward by inertia, he stepped aside, hiding behind the body of a dead man, and with a direct piercing blow killed the second, plunging his sword into the unnaturally wide eye socket of the monster. The sword rattled against bone and penetrated into the cranium and popped back covered in thick black-green mucus.
There is! Both monsters fell under the feet of Oleg, who was frozen with a sword in his hand.
It was like in a dream - here they are running, here is the sword jumping out of the scabbard, and ... w-r-time! Two! Ready!
It's just impossible! It can't be! These creatures cannot exist! And there can be no vampire flower! And this "finger", swarming underfoot - cannot be! This whole world cannot exist!
Oleg slowly wiped the blade on the decrepit clothes that were falling off the corpse, and with a practiced movement he slipped the short blade into the sheath on his back. Spent someone movement.
And Oleg has already ceased to be surprised at how and what he does. Because I'm tired. There comes a moment when the brain stops being surprised at what is happening and only stupidly notes the events - here I am, here some muck is swarming, here I am killing humanoid creatures, here ... here are new creatures! More creatures!
Oleg almost shuddered when he saw three human figures in front of him - again ?! And three at once? Then I looked closely - thank you, Lord - like real people!
Well, yes, they are real. Backpacks, jackets similar to the one Oleg is wearing, high boots with pants tucked into them. For some reason, Oleg's pants were thrown over his boots. Maybe the one in whose body Oleg ended up preferred to wear pants that way? Is that his style? Maybe.
Behind each shoulder, one could see the hilt of a sword - just like Oleg's. It is understandable - try it, walk around here without a weapon! You will immediately please the boarheads for lunch! As a meal, that goes without saying.
Noticing Oleg, the strangers became alert, froze, but then slowly walked towards him. Oleg also calmed down a little - people are like people, it’s business! Finally he knows where he is!
The first was a man of about thirty-five, broad-faced, squat, round-shouldered. His eyes stared intently, with a squint, his face was tanned, there was a bandage on his forehead - as if from sweat, all in dark stains, it was clear that it had not been washed for a long time and was very worn. The hilt of the sword above the shoulder is also worn, and greasy dirt has accumulated in the micro-slits between the thin straps that wrap around the hilt.
The man obviously did not particularly care about the cleanliness of the body and equipment. He stank nastily - sweat, urine and something sweet, chemical, perhaps what he was now chewing, spitting black-and-red viscous saliva on the cobblestones. Oleg did not like the stranger's look, and he immediately became alert, again remembering the Islamic terrorists and the like. People are people, but you still need to be on your guard. Not at home!
The second was a guy of Oleg's age - about twenty-five years old, with a sly fox face, a sharp nose and shifty, slightly slanting eyes. Oleg did not like this one even more - a crook! Swindler! You can see them at first sight!
The third is about thirty, strong, with a slightly dull, hard face of a peasant who is used to hard work and rough treatment - both with people and with animals. A kind of bull, which is enough for life everywhere - both at universities and in the army-navy. Of course, there are more of them in the army than in other places. As Olegov used to say, an institute teacher: “The more oaks in the army, the stronger our defense!” And he, in turn, heard this phrase from a regular rocket officer, who was rather skeptical about the abilities of the bulk of the personnel of the unit entrusted to him.
Oleg and the people they met stopped about five paces from each other. Oleg was silent, cautiously looking at the newcomers, they also showed no desire to speak first. They stood looking at each other.
And yet the cunning one with the fox face was the first to speak:
- Hello, Mad!
Oops! It turns out that Oleg was known here! Or rather, its carrier.
“Hi…” Oleg replied, suddenly realizing that he was speaking in a completely unfamiliar language! He says he understands everything, but at the same time he realizes that the language is not the same! Not Russian!
- What, a good catch? - "Fox" grinned, nodding at Oleg's backpack. - Any artifacts?
Z-z-zing! Danger! Attention!
- For what purpose are you interested? - Oleg asked coldly, suddenly seeing how the “bychara” was moving to the side, intending to go around from the flank. - I have nothing to do with you. Go where you went.
- Why so rude? - The stocky one spat again, and the splashes from the spit that hit the cobblestone defiled Oleg's boot. - Since we ask, then we need it! Why are you roaming our land?! This is our territory! He robbed us - it means that everything he found is ours! You can't climb here without permission! So get the artifacts and put them on the ground! I already warned you - get out of our city!
- Your city?! - Oleg drawled in bewilderment, feverishly thinking, or maybe he really wandered into someone's zone, into someone's territory, violated the rules, and hence all the incomprehensibility ?!
- Well, why are you building faces ?! - grimaced "Fox". “Are you going to say again that the Dead Cities are common, that everyone can go where they want?! They told you - this is OUR city, so you need to listen, you earless donkey!
Oleg noticed movement from the corner of his eye, something flashed, and he narrowly escaped death, evading the blow of the bull's blade. This "villager" seemed so sleepy and lethargic that you definitely wouldn't expect any trouble from him. But no! The reptile moved so quickly and dexterously that Oleg barely had time to dodge the blows, completely forgetting that he had the same blade behind his back. And when I remembered, it was already too late - the rest of the villains also had blades, and if Oleg had not jumped back, finding himself between two hefty blocks, like a detachment of Spartans in a gorge in front of an enemy army, then he would have ended. The attackers greatly interfered with each other, waving their swords, trying to get Oleg, and in fact there was always only one fighter in front of him, so Oleg easily and confidently repelled all possible attacks, but did not attack himself.
Why didn't you attack? Everything is simple. It's one thing to kill a humanoid monster, and another thing to cut down an ordinary, even an evil person. It was as if someone was stopping the hand - now I want to strike, I want to defeat the enemy, and ... I can’t! Barrier! Mental barrier! The brain remembers to kill a person it is forbidden!
And then the stocky whistled. Quietly, but loudly, and at his signal, from behind Oleg, from a doorway overgrown with purple moss, five more poured out - the same armed and vile-faced as those with whom Oleg now fought his first sword fight in his life. And probably the last one.
Writer in the genre of fantasy and science fiction - Evgeny Shchepetnov. All books in series right order are presented below so that you can easily navigate through his best works.
Istra cycle
healer
In the world of magical possibilities of slave owners and knights, an earthly person is unlikely to survive. And is it possible for a mere mortal to be in a parallel world? He can kill as well as heal. Beautiful women they go crazy over it, and the enemies bypass it. Only he can find a common language with both dragons and mages. Farther
How to arrange life in the Middle Ages? Is it possible to get a title, marry a beauty and gain wealth? And how to conclude an agreement with tyrannosaurs so that they serve you faithfully? Can you survive in a world where magic reigns and you don't have a single friend around? Vlad was a simple man, but became a healer and magician in the new world. He studies science at a magical academy, meets women and travels. He can easily deal with whatever stands in his way. Farther
Istria has always been peaceful, but now disaster has struck. What started as an internecine skirmish turned into a bloodbath. Conspiracies are weaved at every turn, the neighbors of Istria are ready to kill everyone who stands in their way of protection. The last one to help in this difficult task of reclaiming their own lands is Vlad. He must be able to resist the absolute Evil and win. Farther
Beggar. wild lands
A world where a lifeless desert has spread for hundreds of kilometers, danger comes from wild orcs, and war machines guard the treasures of ancient times. The former commando must survive in this difficult place. But the wild world does not let anyone go so easily. The renewed warrior and magician will have to save his friends and not die himself, and there is still a search for treasures ahead. Farther
Monk
Monk
Events are developing in a parallel world. While our hero does not understand how he ended up here. In appearance, everything is very reminiscent of the usual land, but here people worship the demon, know how to conjure, and goblin with kikimors roam in the forests. Andrey needs not only to survive, but also to defeat Evil. What will help him in this? Dragons? Books? He just has to go this way and find himself in the thick of incredible adventures. Farther
Monk. The path to the goal
What could be more difficult than teaching a dragon to fly? Especially if you don’t fly yourself and just don’t have a dragon. And all around are enemies who only want your death. This world cannot be so easily rid of evil - there are many wanderings, battles and adventures ahead. Andrei could only kill, but now he teaches dragons and fights evil. Farther
Monk. purpose
Even if the path to the goal seems endless, sooner or later it ends. Andrew is at the end of his journey. A former assassin, now a werewolf and a warrior, he has almost fulfilled his destiny. the main objective to rid mankind of evil. And he almost succeeded. Although the ancient forces do not give up so easily, Andrey will need all his skill, cunning and intelligence to get moving. Farther
Shargion is a living ship, which, after the battle, went mad with pain and wounds. He transported Leroux and Glory to a distant star system just to save his crew. The heroes enter the world of the Amazons, who have always been brave warriors and bravely fought against evil. But for every 300 women on their planet, there is only one man. Slava and Lera are trying to figure everything out, to survive among strangers and at the same time figure out how to help their ship. Farther
The earth has suffered from destruction and is now again at the epicenter of the war. Hundreds of people are dying, star cruisers are bombing each other in space. Who will save humanity and the planet from destruction? Will there be brave defenders? Farther
Ned
Path of the Foundling
Child on the seashore. What will be the fate of this little man? Can he choose the right path? Ned is a foundling and a child of the people of the Ards, a cursed tribe. Everyone was afraid of the Ards, because they brought only destruction and robbery. Ned will forever remain a slave, despite the fact that no one would want such a fate. However, he has incredible events and adventures ahead of him. He will have to be braver than ever. Farther
Black magician
Ned is behind both the position of a slave and the boot camp, but even more difficult events lie ahead - the war. Sergeant Ned the Black has the ability of a black magician, which is forbidden in this world. But how to hide such abilities of a demonologist? After all, if found, it will be burned at the stake. Ahead of the search for magical artifacts, hatred and love, war and battles. Farther
Light and darkness
Only yesterday Ned was a foundling and a slave, and today he managed to get rid of this stigma. Growing up, he was able to become a sergeant, a magician and a husband. However, it so happened that his magical abilities disappeared with the appearance of a demon in his body, and his beloved wife Sanda left for a while. And then there is the palace intrigue in full swing. You have to choose between good and evil. Farther
New fantasy thriller
Cleaner
No one knows where he came from and who he is - not even the foster mother. When he was still a baby, he was picked up from a KrAZ that had overturned in an accident. Nearby was only the deceased driver. When the boy grew up, superpowers awakened in him. For starters, he was able to see the aura of humanoid creatures that engage in bullying and murder. But what's the point of just seeing? Then he learned to fight with these entities. Farther
Hunter. Someone will pay me for everything!
Battle mage Sergar Semig got into the body of an invalid in a wheelchair when he went to Earth. Superpowers could help him secure money and protection forever, but you need to remember about black realtors who do not shy away from preying on people. He continues his crusade. Farther
Leader
Adrus the Beast, master of death, continues his adventures. This time he has to become an army drakonier - a dragon rider for the emperor. This is an elite unit and you still need to stay in it, because envious people strive to ruin life. The courage and courage of the hero seem indestructible until the beautiful Delia appears on the horizon, considering herself the punishing hand of the Almighty. Farther
Once the magician Sergar Semig, and now the wheelchair Oleg would never have imagined that he would own such a sum of money. A civilization in which it was so easy to earn and just as easy to spend on goods seemed very tempting to him. However, there is no magic in the earthly world, that's the only problem. Although no, in fact there is, but you still need to be able to connect to it. Farther
Even if Sergei Sazhin thought he had experienced the worst, he was wrong. Not only did they have to somehow cope with the female body and deprivation, but a sorcerer appeared on the horizon, who wants to take over the whole world. Of course, he was interested in someone who knew about a powerful weapon that could destroy people by the thousands. Sergey will fight with the most cruel fighters of the other world, participate in palace intrigues and fight for life. Farther
The adventures of Sergei Sazhin in the world of wizards continue. Finally, it turned out to be pulled out of the hands of the sorcerer, but the problems did not end there. This time, Sergei will have to deal with the pirates, survive the storm and find himself on a forbidden island. And this is only a small part of what will happen to him. And the world, meanwhile, is waiting for its death in the war and we need brave heroes who can resist evil. Farther
Yin Yang. Against everyone!
Sergei was an old burnt out opera, although he was forced to walk in the body of a beauty, on whose body everyone looks back - from young to old. The hero comes up with ideas on how to get to La Donga, the starship that everyone calls the Old Fortress. Farther
Corporation
Sly Dongar lives the dull and simple life of a Beorian. His profession has been the same for thousands of years. He doesn't have the ability to fly. Even the news of the inheritance did not cause him joy, because in fact it turned out to be a battered space truck and debts. Is it possible to change everything? You need to do everything to become the captain of the ship and go on a journey through the stars. Farther
Sly Dongar completed a difficult task and received a considerable jackpot for it. Now I would like to rejoice and relax, but then the agents of the Empire descended, and you can’t get away from them so easily. The crew of the Tramp, a spaceship, is once again risking their lives in an attempt to resolve conflicts on a global scale. Will the friends be able to cope with the time traps and paradoxes? Farther
No series
A provincial beauty came to conquer Moscow. Fate takes her to unfavourable conditions and unkind people set her up. So she ended up in a certain corporation, where she was offered something that she would never go for, living a happy and peaceful life. But incredible adventures lay ahead of her, places that one could only dream of or fantasize about. Farther
Kolyan
Stalker Black digger knows how to find what can be profitably sold to the huckster. And when you get money, you can forget yourself in a drink and not think about anything. Kolyan is the same black digger who learned how it is to visit a hot spot under fire. Now he only cares about one thing - how to get through the day. He has no plans, desires or goals, he just lives. But when the past catches up with him, the mystery changes his entire existence in an instant. Farther
Kolyan 2
There is no more Kolyan, now there is Nikolai - a successful businessman with a lot of money. However, the past still haunts him, causing him to recall past bursts of adrenaline. He decided to dig a kudeyara cave to find ancient treasures there. Hiring people and obtaining permits, he goes on adventures. But plans don't always go as planned. Farther
More from the series:
It was a writer of combat fiction - Yevgeny Shchepetnov. All books in the series are in order. Share your review if you have already read something. 😉
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