One more day…

That’s all I can really think about, when life in this little village is as boring as they come. Living life on the fields is terrible.

Townsfolk imagine life on the fields to be peaceful and relaxing, until they discover the harsh reality behind the high taxes, low productivity, famine and the fact that only a handful of people actually work on the field to make plants grow. Oh, selling them would bring in the money needed to live better, you say? We have to pay taxes, ridiculous ones. The lords of this area fill their stomachs, while just leaving enough for us not to starve, since they need our field hands to keep living like kings. Oh, rebelling you say? A great idea, until you discover that over three hundred people were hung or burned alive in the last year or so.

We have tried selling our goods in the past, but the system functions in a way that the nobles make more money if you make more money. And since they can’t take more food from us in taxes without many people dying of famine, selling our goods would lead us bankrupt.

And since we don’t have money for a revolt, or weapons at our disposal for such a large scale castle seize, there’s no point.

But honestly, I’d let all that slide… if there were any women around here. Geez, my family keeps telling me to find a woman around here and marry, but honestly, I don’t even think this village’s women can be considered… well… women.

When you go into town, you can see some “well gifted” women, but here on the field, saying that they are as ugly as pigs would be an insult. To the pigs, of course.

“Hey! I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking about there, but you better start working, or we won’t meet this month’s quota. The messenger just said that it has increased.” Said the Village’s old man. What was his name again?

Right, Mr. Brown, Bernie Brown. A very slender and short old man, with long white hair indicating his old age. He was wearing a brown vest over his dirty white shirt, combining that with his long black pants that were way too large for a short man as himself.

“Still wearing those oversized pants, are you, old man?” I asked, smiling.

“Well, these are the only ones I own, you Idiot!” He started shouting at me.

This line brought me back to reality for a moment. ‘The only pants I own’. Yeah. No money for more clothes. Geez, I wonder when was the last time my clothes were washed. Thankfully, we usually go to the river nearby to bathe ourselves. We usually use some plants from this area that cover up our smells. Yes, cover. We still smell like shit. While those fat men eat everything we make, leaving us little to eat, they don’t even do anything for us. How is that a fair trade?

Call me idealistic. I wouldn’t mind working here from dawn to dusk if I saw those noblemen doing something for us. Something, I’d take anything right about now. Anything.

“Did you hear me, kid? The Quota rose again, Start working!” Old man Brown shouted again.

“Wait, What? Again? We’re going to starve!” I shouted, not knowing what to think. My family already came so close to starving last month, how would we get by this one?

I decided to drop the hoe I was holding, leaving the field and running, still trying to find the messenger, which usually came with the noble decree, signed by the region’s lord.

Running through the village made me think about it. Even If I really find the messenger, what am I going to do? What can I do? To face the reality that you are indeed powerless, that everyone around you is going to die and you can’t do anything about it.

As soon as I found the messenger, he was walking back, in the direction where the closest town stood, all dressed in white, with a blue cape flying with the wind on his back, which held the crest of the Noble house of our Region, the Fluglal House, which reigned over the Fluglal canton, one of many that comprised the Estine Senate, which ruled over Estine, situated on the continent of Eloa.

I could feel nothing but rage at seeing him all relaxed, followed by his entourage. All incredibly well dressed. The man walked right next to two carriages, pushed by white horses meaning that people from the Fluglal house were in those carriages.

As I approached the messenger, I grabbed him by the collar, before shouting at him.

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING? DO YOU WANT TO KILL US ALL?!” I Shouted at him, eyes filled with rage, before he pushed me away.

“Do not touch me you plebian. We may do as we please. You are a citizen of the Fluglal canton, and so, you must follow the laws imposed by the Fluglal house. Deal with it.” He said.

The Nerve! But in my many years in dealing with stupid people, I’ve learned how to manage it.

Suddenly, a short and fat woman came out of one of the carriages, bearing the Fluglal House crest on her chest.

“Lady Elaine, you came for a walk, did you not? There is no need for you to step out, we’ll deal with this bug.” He said.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Bug? THE NERVE! I’m going to kick his teeth in!! Damn it… Just calm down, hitting him won’t solve the issue.

“Oh, Lady Elaine. I see that you’ve gotten quite fat off of other people’s work! It’s good that you’re coming out here for a walk, to see if you lose that extra fat. Just a tip though. Next time you come out for a walk, don’t bring your carriage, because with It you’re not… well… Walking. Just to keep in mind.” I said, and I meant every word. That fat woman needs to be put in her place.

The messenger grabbed me by the collar before shouting.

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, you insolent fool? One more word, and I’ll have your…” I quickly interrupted the messenger by punching him in the face.

He fell back on the ground before completing his sentence.

“You’ll have my what?” I asked eyes twitching, ready to beat him to death. This guy needs to be put in his place.

As I approached him once more, a blade to my neck made me stop on my tracks.

“… Your head.” He said as he got up. “You must think of yourself as some sort of super hero, that would save your land, right? Well, you’ll have time to think about what you’ve said and done, in the arena.” He said.

CRAP! No, not the arena. In The Fluglal canton, the Fluglal house could send anyone they pleased to the arena as slaves, as they watched them fighting to the death. Being Rash probably just cost me my life, didn’t it? Crap.

Multiple Soldiers grabbed me and locked me up, as everyone in the village had gathered around us to see what was happening.

Old man Brown approached us, looking at me with an attitude of disapproval. Really old man? Can you blame me for trying to change things? Can you? Stupid old man.

“Old Man! Tell my family that I acted stupidly, and now I’m going to the arena. If I ever attain freedom there, I’ll come back. Promise.” I Said before the soldiers started dragging me to the arena.

From the village to the neighboring town, where we’d usually go trade some grown plants for a few seeds, to keep our small “economy” ongoing, it was just a couple of hours of walk.

This didn’t bother me though. I had never been in a carriage for my whole life, and I wasn’t about to begin. The Fluglal house head’s wife, Lady Elaine, offered the spot next to her, for me to seat. But… Why? Was there any reason for it? Or was she just not as bad as we’ve heard?

***

We had finally arrived at the neighboring town. It was quite a big town, Fluglal Canton’s Capital, Cyika. Quite a good place for the women, terrible for everything else. The smell of burnt flesh quickly arrived on my nostrils, someone had been burnt today. I quickly looked around, and to my dismay, I see two tied young men, probably slightly older than me, both still burning. Already dead though, there were no shouts of pain anyway. So… This is the harsh reality we live in, isn’t it?

And when I thought things couldn’t get worst, Soldiers passing by with someone for the arena would usually start announcing it, as if some big event was about to happen.

“DEAD MAN WALKING! CLEAR THE WAY! DEAD MAN WALKING!” He kept shouting, as if advertising something.

Stupid. Just stupid. Killing me in the arena for saying what I believe in? If people don’t want to listen to criticism, change. If people don’t want to be insulted they must strive to become worthy of praise. They’re just mad I said the truth.

Everyone came out of their homes, to see what the fuss was all about. Lots of good looking women as well. Didn’t have their good bodies destroyed working everyday in the fields. Too bad this is a one way ticket to hell.

“DEAD MAN WALKING! CLEAR THE WAY! DEAD MAN WALKING!” He kept on shouting.

“SHUT UP, THEY ALREADY KNOW, NO NEED TO RUB IT IN!” I Shouted back to the soldier. I’ve had it with these people’s stupidity.

The answer to my shouts was a push from the white dressed messenger on to a puddle of mud. My clothes were already dirty from working on the fields, but this took it to a whole new level.

“Oh, you motherfucker. I CHALLENGE YOU TO AN HONOR DUEL!” I Shouted.

An honor duel was the worst thing you could be challenged for. Refusing an honor duel would dirty your name for the rest your life, and for generations to come. And the loser of an honor duel would always die. No exceptions. A battle to the death. If I was about to come down, I’d sully his name and reputation with my death.

The man took a step back, before everyone in the town started staring at him and the guards dropped me on the ground, as if waiting to hear his answer to free me. After all, interfering with an honor duel was the worst thing one could do, especially in front of all these people.

He stepped forward, going to the carriage to pick up a rapier, before throwing me a small dagger.

“Wow, How dignified of you to give me a small dagger. No matter, you shall die in a few minutes after all.” I Said, sweating bullets, trying to make myself look big.

No matter the confrontation, or your opponent, you must always believe to be superior. Believing is half the battle, isn’t it? Well, if not, I’ll die here, nobody really cares about a farmer plebian like me, do they?

As he stepped forward and held his rapier high, I picked up my dagger. Not knowing what to do, I decided to formulate strategies in my mind in how to beat him. With everyone watching, I at least had to give them a good show, even if I was about to die.

Then I noticed. He was wielding a rapier. That gave me the advantage. As long as he couldn’t poke me, he couldn’t kill me.

“Ready yourself.” He said, looking high and mighty.

I held the dagger as if I was wielding a sword, and nodded.

As he moved forward he swung his rapier from his left to his right, as if to behead me where I stood. Unfortunately for him, as the rapier was about to touch me, I grabbed the rapier with all my strength, not letting him move it.

“You do know a rapier doesn’t cut, right? It pierces. You’re not supposed to slash with it.”

He was even more pathetic than I thought. Seems like living in a noble house raises idiots.

“See you in the afterlife.” I Said before plunging my dagger onto his neck, cutting his jugular entirely.

As soon as I pushed the dagger out, I let go of the rapier. Allowing the man to fall flat on his back, making it hit the ground. Nothing pleased me more than seeing him like this. Die motherfucker, the world doesn’t need trash like you.

But then I realized. I had just killed a man. And for the first time, I felt the thrill, the adrenaline shot, of having killed someone. I felt as if, my life had just attained meaning. The dull life I had lived until now as no more, as the thrill of the kill had taken over me.

For the first time I had killed someone, and it felt… Great!