Kirill Klevanski > Quotes

“They took the Kingdom, they took his own destiny. But he is willing to wage a war, against the whole world if need be, to bring everything back.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Stone Will

“I want one!” The girl stamped her foot just like Elaine had as a child. Maybe she was a princess too? “I don’t think your dad would approve of you getting a tattoo.” “He never approves of anything at all,” Serra frowned. “He’s so mean. You are much kinder. Maybe you can be my dad?” Hadjar choked. The girl’s innocence and naivety always amazed him.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Sea of Sand

“your damned ice fortress.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Iron Will

“You’re like coal,” Nehen said. “Black on the outside and red hot on the inside.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Iron Will

“What a strange rain,” the girl said, holding out her hand. The first scarlet drop landed on her tiny palm, then another, and another, and suddenly, the rain turned red. The smell of copper filled her nostrils, and the raindrops became heavy and evil. The girl was being held in her father’s strong arms before she even knew what was happening. Pale and wide-eyed, he ran with her into the house. “Daddy, what’s going on?” The little girl screamed.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“You should have talked to them then, you Rootless drunk,”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Glory

“Uncle Hadjar! Why are you so smart?” “I used to eat a lot of fish when I was a kid!” “Eww,” Shakur grimaced. “Fish! I hate fish!” “Don’t tell your father that.” “Why not?” “Oh, believe me, it’ll worry him greatly, he loves it.” “Even more than mom?” The boy was startled. Hadjar pretended to think about it, “No, he still loves your mother more... probably.” Dora shot him a glare.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Glory

“sconces”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Demons

“Only you, Hadj, can go to the ass end of the world and come back covered in gold, rather than shit.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Iron Will

“seas and oceans,”
― Kirill Klevanski, Iron Will

“Calm your soul, Hadjar Darkhan,” Erhard’s eyes flashed. “A warrior shouldn’t flounder like a fish caught in a net. Your mind must be clear and cool. Your heart must be hot. Your body must be controlled, no matter what. Your hands must be strong. Your eyes must be sharp. You’re in this world right now. It doesn’t matter whether it’s an illusion or not. You’re a warrior facing an enemy — your own unwillingness to see the truth. Defeat that enemy. Win the battle. That is a warrior’s way. Everything else, everything that’s not your battles and your victories, is just dust clinging to you. Reject it.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Glory

“You should block an attack, not get out of the way! This isn’t dodgeball,”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Pain

“Look, Hadjar. This is a drop of water. Drop of water, this is Hadjar Darkhan.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Glory

“Who was she?” Tom brought the bottle up to his lips, but there wasn’t a single drop of wine left. He cursed, slammed the cork back in, and hung the bottle on his belt. At this rate, he’d soon become like Drunken Leaf, who’d mastered the Drunken Sword style.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Flowers bloomed under the young man’s feet, and birds landed closer to sing their songs. His heart was burning, aflame with spring love.” “In our version, it’s not his heart that’s hot,” Einen whispered in Hadjar’s ear.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Sea of Sand

“He simply appeared not that long ago. With two girls and an old man.” “An old man?” Tom snorted. “And you’re as fresh as a daisy?”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Found it,” Einen said. Their very large boxes, sealed with glowing hieroglyphs, were at the bottom. Einen recognized them by the designations written on the tops of the boxes in the desert language: ‘Islander’ and ‘Northerner’. Pulling them out of the rack, the friends thought about what they should do next. Then it dawned on Hadjar and he simply touched the hieroglyph. His blue bracelet flashed, and then the seal disappeared, melting away like a slight haze. The sword lying inside the box soothed his tense nerves better than any herbal tincture ever could. As soon as Mountain Wind was back in his calloused hand, confidence welled up in Hadjar’s soul: no obstacle in his path could stop him or even slow him down. The old leather wallet with his friends’ wedding bracelets reassured his aching heart. ‘The Black Gates’ Patriarch’s ring, the fairy’s tears, and little Serra’s gift were almost insignificant compared to those two most important things. Although, after looking at the sword, Hadjar tied the wallet to his belt first. There were many swords in this world after all... “I don’t think you’re allowed to do what you want here,” someone behind him said. Hadjar turned around. He realized that he’d been lost in his own thoughts for a while. The sounds of merriment had long since subsided. The central hall, which had resembled a tavern and a brothel at the same time, was now empty. All the practitioners wearing blue amulets had bared their weapons and crowded behind Glen. He was still lazily sipping from his mug, but his gaze was tenacious. The leader of the fifty ‘guinea pigs’, selected by Karissa, was ready to fight. To the death. Einen, who’d somehow managed to put his people’s traditional outfit on, stood next to Hadjar. In his hand, the spear-staff, which hadn’t exposed its deadly stinger yet, swayed dangerously. “Put those things back and go to bed,” Glen said bossily. “You shouldn’t steal from people who’ve sheltered you.” “We haven’t stolen anything,” Einen snapped in reply, “we’ve just taken back our things.” “There’s nothing of yours here.” “The names on the boxes beg to differ,” Hadjar stated calmly. They met Glen’s eyes. By the Evening Stars, the undersized rogue was one of the few people who could withstand Hadjar’s gaze. “It seems that children from the north and the islands can’t count,” Glen said more forcefully. “I’ll give you one more chance. Put-” “Put a dog’s reproductive organ down your throat,” Einen spat on the floor. His friend’s cursing made Hadjar open his mouth in surprise. Apparently, the stress of the recent weeks had really affected the usually calm islander. “How many newbies have you cheated like this so far? You make them think that they can’t take their things back, and then you send them to their deaths.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Sea of Sorrow

“Hadjar was almost at the gate when a crossbow bolt pierced the sand in front of his feet. “One more step and the next shot hits your balls!” a guard said”
― Kirill Klevanski, Sea of Sand

“I don’t remember him,” the King continued. “My father used to bring me and my brother here and tell us stories about his grandfather fighting against the sect of Balium. ‘The Black Gates’ was our greatest foe, once.” “Lidus lost that war.” "Yes,” Haver agreed. “My grandfather and your great-grandfather died fighting them. But, because he refused to bow to the Patriarch and because he managed to seriously injure him in a fight, Lidus resisted. While the sect was getting ready to continue their attack, we consolidated our forces and sent them back to the Black Mountains.” Haver stared at his ancestor’s stone visage for a long time. Hadjar tried to make out the inscription on the pedestal. The King’s last words were carved there: “I won’t kill you today... but look into my eyes, Patriarch, and remember. I’ll come for you. In another body, in another spirit, wielding another sword, but I’ll take your life. The last thing you’ll see will be my eyes. So remember them well!”
― Kirill Klevanski, Iron Will

“Got a plan?” Hadjar whispered to his friend. The islander nodded. “You’ll like it. It’s completely insane.” “The best plans always are.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Magic

“Do they now?” Orune asked while cleaning his ear out with his pinky. Once he dug out a lump of earwax, he flicked it right into Hadjar’s nose.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Pain

“There’s nothing more terrifying, Hadjar, than a rejected woman”
― Kirill Klevanski, Demon City

“The old man held out a paper scroll, not mere parchment. It was a clear sign of wealth and status. Not every noble family could afford to use paper for invitations. The very fact that Hadjar was being visited by the clan’s attorney, and not by a simple servant, spoke volumes. “Thank-” Hadjar reached out, almost closing his fingers around the scroll, but the old man suddenly loosened his grip. Caught in the wind, the invitation, decorated with monograms and tied with a scarlet ribbon, fell to the dirt at Hadjar’s feet. The old man didn’t apologize. He stood there, with his hand still outstretched, a sneer on his lips, radiating complete confidence in his superiority. A clear example that old age didn’t mean one also gained intelligence or wisdom. He’d lived long enough for his hair to turn gray, but not long enough to acquire a brain. He didn’t even realize how simply and blatantly he was being used. Hadjar, just as the old man had expected, bent down to pick up the invitation, dusted it off, and held it without putting it away in his spatial artifact, as was required by etiquette. “You didn’t have to bow to me, young man,” the old man grunted. This was quite a serious insult. Being the personal disciple of a great hero made Hadjar equal in status to the senior heirs of aristocratic families. He was at the very top of the social structure of Dahanatan. But Hadjar didn’t really care about any of that. The power he possessed was insignificant in his opinion, and ever since he’d eaten those first scraps in Primus’ dungeon, he’d stopped caring about whether he was a Prince or a circus freak. Titles didn’t matter. The important thing was that the old man was a servant, and Hadjar was almost an aristocrat. The lawyer’s words were akin to the old man throwing a glove in Hadjar’s face. Hadjar looked behind his visitor, at the dark carriage emblazoned with the white coat of arms of the Predatory Blades clan. Brustor would have to try a little harder. So far, his provocations weren’t even a match for the insults that Hadjar had received during his meetings with Emperor Morgan. Shocking the old man, Hadjar bowed deeply. “Only a silly young man,” he said, straightening back up, “doesn’t feel respect toward someone whose hair is whiter than his.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Path to the Unknown

“Anise Dinos.” “What?” “Anise Dinos,” Hadjar repeated. “That’s the name of the former senior heiress of the Predatory Blades clan.” “What about her?” Orune chewed on a bone. “Did she refuse to fuck you and now you’re suffering? Or did she fuck you so well that you can’t forget it?” Hadjar smiled. Now that he’d gotten used to it, Orune’s rudeness was somewhat pleasant, like a cold shower after a hard day’s work. It brought him back to reality, which was sometimes as crude as the great swordsman himself. “Neither.” Orune froze for a moment with the bone between his teeth. “Do you prefer boys?” “I don’t.” “How can it be neither, then? Look, I have a New Creek Pill if you need it… Hadjar choked on his food. A New Creek Pill was worth a dozen of the Leafy Peace Pills, because a New Creek Pill couldn’t be recreated by any alchemist in the seven Empires. They could only be bought in the Dragon Lands, which meant that ordinary citizens believed they could only be found in ancient tombs. It was rumored that a New Creek Pill was able to regrow the lost limbs of cultivators, even ones at the Nameless level. “Thank you, but I still have all my… appendages.” “Great!” Orune exhaled in relief. “A eunuch disciple would’ve been awfully embarrassing. My forefathers would’ve laughed at me!”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Pain

“Hadjar arched his right eyebrow.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Sea of Sorrow

“he’d had to fight against the Immortal monkey.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Way to the South

“It seems to me, my bald pirate friend, that I can see a beautiful maiden in that small lake over there.” “That’s odd, my hairy barbarian friend, because I can see her too.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Magic

“War and peace are shadows that life casts upon ordinary people,” Einen said philosophically. Hadjar sometimes wondered how such deep thoughts could come from the mind of a rogue and adventurer from the Islands. Then again, he shouldn’t judge his friend by his clothes and birth, but by his deeds. “Ordinary people?” Tom asked, once again assuming his familiar haughty and proud manner. “I only see two ordinary people among us. And they should be grateful that we’re tolerating their filthy existences.” “Tom,” Dora said warningly. “When viewed through the waters of the World River, we are all ordinary.” Einen shrugged. “And mortal.” Hadjar slapped his forehead.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Land of Magic

“those who’d reached the level of The Heaven Soldier and had touched the edge of eternity and immortality,”
― Kirill Klevanski, Stone Will

“You’re so mean, senior officer,” Nero said. Hadjar didn’t even get a chance to answer. “Don’t you know about Hadjar’s problem?” “What problem?” Dogar was surprised. Realizing what his friend was talking about, the Prince picked up the kitten and put it back under his clothes. Azrea yawned immediately and fell asleep again. Maybe she was still affected by sleep medicine, but, most likely, she just loved taking naps. Hadjar was happy she did. He didn’t want to think about what would happen when the kitten realized that her mother was gone. He only hoped that Azrea didn’t remember the tigress at all... It would be easier that way. “His bed has never been warmed by a woman.” Dogar glanced at Hadjar. “I understand… That’s why you’re a little strange, assistant. So… nervous.” “I agree completely, Senior Officer Dogar,” Nero nodded. Hadjar pretended to hear nothing and continued to sharpen his sword menacingly.”
― Kirill Klevanski, Stone Will