Showing results by author "Alexey Kovtunov" in All Categories

Events are intensifying around Mikhail Bulatov. The emperor is starting to wonder how he could be just an ordinary Healer, and he's even considering entrusting him with a matter of special importance. Yes, the emperor suspects a lot, but not that Bulatov has geese working for him, and that...

They were just a bunch of ordinary demonologists trying to summon an ordinary demon...but at the moment of summoning, something went wrong. Still, demon or demonologist—what was the difference to them, anyway? Either way, they were going to have fun.

With every new phase of development, the System provides more and more answers. What its purpose was here, why it had come, and what would happen after it left . . . Of course, along with those answers came new questions. Such as, why did it have to go? And, since it had already come anyway...

I was the most powerful healer in my world—the best, having devoted my entire life to mastering the art of healing. And yet, for whatever reason, my brother feared that I sought to claim his throne, and he marshaled his forces against me. Anyway, it doesn't matter, all the same I'd been...

I was the most powerful healer in my world—the best, having devoted my entire life to mastering the art of healing. And yet, for whatever reason, my brother feared that I sought to claim his throne, and he marshaled his forces against me.

Why, oh why, are so many loath to have dealings with Healers? In other worlds, at least, everyone knows how powerful Healers of his rank are. But why is it no one realizes how great Healers are at negotiating and concluding contracts? And, moreover, they're fabulous managers. Although that might...

I could have been anything I wanted: a chef, a chauffeur, a pianist, an artist, an aristocrat...but where would the fun be in that? In my past life, I'd been one of the world's greatest demonologists, and horned lords and masters of the inferno had cringed and trembled with terror at my name.

Gangsters, aristocrats, offworlders . . . What difference does it make? To Mikhail Bulatov, none whatsoever. Any of them could be friend or foe, and he could care less what world they're from or what their place is in the social order. As for his enemies, any conversation will be equally brief, even if different in content. And yes, those out to get him are ramping up their efforts, and increasing in number. Not that there's any question of his ability to handle it all. That being said, he must not lose sight of who he is. First and foremost, he is a Healer.

The System is here! Most of the population of the planet were suddenly turned into zombies, while the rest acquired new abilities. Abilities that let them run from the zombies, save themselves, hide, and try to survive. But it only takes one bite that almost always means death. Our hero was standing in line when the apocalypse came. He was lucky at first to be caught in a crowd when the zombies tried to bite him on the leg. Really lucky, because those trials unlocked new abilities for him.

The army is no place for being idle. A bad soldier is one who can't get this into his head; one who'll do anything to get out of work, who's forever looking for a quiet corner where he can sit and do nothing. But Konstantin was not that soldier. Konstantin was always looking for ways to make...

What could be simpler? On my very first day in this world, I was given the title of a count along with all the trimmings: a castle, name, lands and power. You'd think I had it made, but no . . . They seized my castle, took my lands, and now, I'm surrounded by enemies. Moreover, it's nothing but one headache after another with the authorities. And even though I wrested my castle back, the neighbors aren't going anywhere, and they live and breathe to tear off chunks of my land, and eliminate me, the new head of the family.

Mikhail's power had only grown with every new day, and his Family was also flourishing. However, so were their enemies. New ones had emerged, and old ones who'd long ago written them off were now stirring. But really, was this a problem? He was a healer, and there was always a remedy, and mandatory "treatment" could not be stopped! Indeed, his enemies would pay handsomely for it. At least, whatever remained of them.

Flying with your squad to rescue your fellow soldiers under siege. Navigating your plane right into the epicenter of the fighting, only to discover that the enemy has been lying in wait, ready to ambush you all along . . . What could go wrong? Watching as your aircraft is overrun by enemies that...

The threats I've been facing in this world, well, it's like playing whack-a-mole. The local aristocrats are still conspiring to put roadblocks in the path of the ever more powerful Bulatov Family. And then I have the offworlders from another world—they haven't gone anywhere, either. They're still opening portals and sending through invaders, although, thus far, these attacks have been isolated grabs for loot and prisoners. A portal opens, offworlders dash out, get what they can, and retreat.

In a world full of secrets and intrigue, Mikhail Bulatov is playing a dangerous game, and the rules are constantly changing. True, the opposing players are the ones who have to worry, although they don't know it yet . . . Really, though, danger is no stranger to Mikhail—his life in this world...

This world never fails to surprise me! I take care of one problem only to be confronted by yet another—my unceasing enemies want what is mine. Is it that hard for them to comprehend that I, the Archmagister of Healing, can't be had so easily? Why, oh why are healers in this world seen as the weakest of the Gifted? It makes no sense to me. In my former world, everybody knew that Healers were to be respected and feared. Ah, well. It won't be long before they wish they'd never crossed my path. 

People awake in a strange place with no idea of who or where they are. There is only a bizarre message carved into a metal obelisk and the growing awareness that every single living creature in this new world is a deadly threat. Even a seemingly cute and fluffy bunny has a taste for human flesh . . .What are they to do? How will they survive? How do they stay sane?

It turns out that this world is far from simple. The sharp-toothed rabbits around the village were thought to be the greatest enemy at first. But then came the squirrels . . . The humans dealt with them too and things seemed to be going well until—surprise!—the wolves appeared. As enemies grow in number, there is finally a light at the end of the tunnel. Another sapient race!

To anyone looking on, it would appear that a certain very young count is beset by too many enemies, especially considering that his Gift has nothing to do with combat. It’s as if the northern region that houses his county is a magnet for offworld invaders. But his enemies also include his competitors, and, of course, neighboring aristocrats who seek to seize the lands and assets of this impudent upstart, this Count Bulatov.

Mikhail isn't greedy, no! He's simply thrifty, practical. And he cannot fathom how anyone can leave trophies behind on the battlefield. No way does that mean he's stealing them! And of course Mikhail isn't a slave master! Although those who he corralled into signing service contracts might not agree.