The Immortal Mystic (Book 5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

with his swing effortlessly, bringing the spiked rear of the hammer’s head toward Lepkin. Lepkin dropped to a knee and bent forward. The war hammer sailed by. At that moment Lepkin jumped up and lunged forward, slamming into the orc and pinning his arms to his chest as he tackled the foe to the ground. Lepkin momentarily released his sword, letting it rest on the ground nearby, and reached up to tear the orc’s helmet off.
    The orc’s face pulled itself into a snarl of angry, green skin. The dark, almost purple lips curled furiously around the thick, bottom tusks jutting out from the lower jaw. Beady, black eyes stared at Lepkin.
    “We will never cease,” the orc said in Common Tongue. “You will all die.”
    Lepkin responded with a savage punch to the orc’s face. His gauntleted fist shattered one of the tusks and tore the flesh over the orc’s cheekbone. A moment later he retrieved his sword and finished the orc off. Even in death the incensed eyes stared at Lepkin confidently. The orc’s promise echoed in the man’s mind.
    Lepkin scrambled to his feet and was instantly engaged by a foursome of spear-wielders. One of the points jabbed the side of his helmet, two slammed into his chest, and the fourth expertly came in to sweep his feet out from under him. Had it not been for the Telarian armor, it might have worked too. Fortunately, the armor splintered the fourth spear and Lepkin was able to remain balanced enough to react. He lashed out, catching one of the spear wielders with a thrust to the neck. As he brought his blade back he drew it across a second orc’s chest. Then he lunged forward, letting the blades over his left pauldron dispatch the third.
    He turned to finish the fourth, but another dragon slayer arrived and drove his greatsword up through the orc’s back, lifting him into the air.
    “There are too many!” one of the dragon slayer’s shouted.
    Lepkin knew the man was right. The ocean of orcs around them now could not be stopped by mere men and their blades, even if some of them were made of Telarian steel. “Form around me!” Lepkin shouted. The dragon slayers formed into a defensive ring and Lepkin dropped his sword. There were still several trebuchets to be destroyed. If they were allowed to stand, the walls of Ten Forts would fail. He could see only one way to see the mission through.
    His hands tore at the clasps and latches of his armor. He had to take it off. Every piece had to be removed.
    A javelin glanced off his shoulder and Lepkin took note of just how little time he had. His fingers fumbled over the clasps attaching his hauberk. He knelt down on the ground to shield himself as the throngs of orcs pushed in on the other dragon slayers. His helmet hit the ground, then his greaves came undone. The hauberk fell.
    An orc broke through the ring and one of the dragon slayers called out a warning. Lepkin jumped up to his feet and socked the orc across the face, since he still wore his right gauntlet. The orc was stunned, and stumbled backward a pace. Lepkin snatched up a pauldron in his left hand and drove it into the orc’s skull.
    Then, the fires in his chest took hold and he let out a roar that silenced the battlefield. Orcs and men alike scrambled to get away from the bright orb of light surrounding Lepkin. The Keeper of Secrets knew the risks, but he also knew that should he be turned by the book once more, the dragon slayers would protect Ten Forts against him. All he had to do was destroy the trebuchets.
    His bones cracked and snapped, but somehow it was not as painful as his other transformations had been in the past. He took his dragon form and roared mightily. Orc and man alike stood confused and backed away in awe.
    Lepkin sent a ball of orange fire hurtling toward one of the trebuchets. The wood exploded into a shower of flaming splinters. The men cheered and turned to press the fight to the orcs. Lepkin leapt up from the ground, swiping at a group of several orcs with his