Gershwin had fought for a long time. Ever since he had appeared, covered in plate armor and carrying a sword and shield, he had fought. He had killed scores of monsters, gathered what survivors he could, and done his best to protect them, and teach them to protect themselves. He had, for the most part, succeeded. That first night the Shades had come, they had lost a few, but they had been prepared with extra dried grass and dead shrubs, and with a bonfire at their backs, they had repelled their enemies. Slowly, they had built fortifications of mud and rock, using the natural defence of the northern river to prevent incursions from the monsters, so they only needed to fear the Shades every night, and shortly, they too were rendered harmless.
The group he had amassed was little more than forty people, but they were trained well, and armored with the skins of the monsters they had slain. They had done well to keep an artisan leatherworker alive, and she had protected them in turn. Finally, the day came when they agreed they were powerful enough to march on the monster hordes and finally free humanity from their threat.
As they marched toward the camp, they quickly realized that something was wrong; namely, that there were no living things in the camp. They had advanced, expecting an ambush or some magical trickery at any moment, but they found nothing… aside from some devastatingly clever traps.
The monsters had tricked them, seemingly abandoning their fortress but leaving large pits in the ground, filled with caustic slimes! They had manage to rescue those that fell in, but their wounds were terrible. One man had lost his vision, another had somehow swallowed some, and could no longer speak. Even with the system’s powerful regeneration, his agony was apparent. Worse was the knowledge that the wounds wouldn’t heal entirely. The man’s eyes were forever gone, and the other’s voice would be changed greatly, if it returned at all. They could recover from much, but when something was destroyed… there was nothing to be done.
‘Monster’ was an adequate name for them. Gershwin raised his helmet and spit, not knowing what else to do. Then he spotted something. Far in the distance, a huge collection of… somethings, were moving. There. “THERE!” he yelled, letting the leadership skill he had acquired enhance his voice, and make clear his intention to his comrades. “THERE!” came the answering cry, and his warband charged.
Thunderous was their approach, so it came as little surprise that the monsters noticed, and turned to face them. However, only a small number did so before they reacted in sudden alarm, and took off running towards the forest in one collective mass.
“THEY FEAR OUR MIGHT! LEAVE NONE ALIVE! HUNT THEM TO THE ENDS OF THE WORLD!” “OORA!”
“-ait!” Hmm? Ah, more survivors to join the fight. Excellent.
“Take up arms and join us! Your salvation is at hand!”
“-o! I s- -ait! -top!”
Whoever the figure was, it was moving towards them at a remarkable speed… very remarkable. Gershwin smiled to himself. Another expert then? Perfect. This one might even be able to go toe to toe with him… Gershwin looked forward to an opportunity to spar.
He raised his hand in greeting. “Ho, traveller! I am Ger-” “I said STOP.”
The concussive force of the man’s shout set Gershwin’s ears to ringing, and every member of his warband stopped abruptly, so much so that many ended up crashing into each other and falling over. Gershwin took off his helmet, tapping his ears to check his hearing, but he now regarded this man not as an asset, but as a potential threat. Who was he to stop them from attacking those foes? Was he protecting them? No, he couldn’t possibly be…
But Gershwin was not a man to doubt what was in front of his eyes. Though the man had a pained expression, and seemed to be partially doubled over, he still demanded answers. “Who are you? Why do you defend these creatures? Are you with them? Against us?! Answer!” The man frowned and shook his head, pointing to his throat. “You will not answer?! Draw steel, betrayer, we shall see who’s will is stronger!” He roared the challenge as he threw his helmet back on and drew his sword.
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The man only shook his head harder, before shrugging his shoulders in aggravation, and holding up his hand, fingers splayed. The one went down, and another… he was counting down? To what? Another threat? Perhaps he was a mage! Well, he would be made to answer one way or anoth-
“Ack, ahh, sorry, doing the shouting thing really fucks up my voice. Hi. Please don’t attack the dogs, I kinda promised them humanity would ally with them.”
“You… are a betrayer! We will not stand for this, right comrades?!” “RAAA!”
“God, no, stop doing that. They’re literally on our side now. If you attacked them, they’d probably let you kill a fair number of them before Cerberus tore your head off and got mad at me for not upholding the treaty.”
“Your Cerberus is no ma-”
“Yes he fucking is. He beat us, and we had some pretty intense advantages. I’m sure you all would have given him some trouble, but there’s no point now. They were lied to, mislead, they never woul-”
“They killed hundreds, no, thousands of humans! And you defend them? This cannot be allowed. Draw, or I will strike you down and do what must be done.”
“You don’t understan-”
“It is you who do not understand.” With that, Gershwin charged. He was loathe to attack an unarmed human, but he had no choice. This man had chosen, and so had he. Faster than Gershwin would have thought possible, the man produced a… stick, holding it aloft like a sword. The fool, he dared to look down on a knight?! No wonder they had been defeated, armed so poorly! But… he could see a sword hilt over the man’s shoulder. Gershwin realized he was being viciously mocked, in front of his own men! Unforgivable. He would leave the man alive, but only barely.
Gershwin swung his sword, aiming to slash the man’s shoulder and leave him defenceless, and even grinned slightly when the man attempted to use the stick to block. The grin vanished when Gershwin’s attack stopped completely, doing little more than denting the stick. The man’s eyes bored into him, but not with hate, more… aggravation. Like Gershwin was a nuisance to be dealt with!
He closed his eyes for a moment. This was most unfortunate, but he would have to go all out. May god forgive him.
He swung again, activating a skill, Crushing Blow, that had never failed to pierce the hide of any enemy he had faced. The man wore nothing more than ratty clothing, so there would be nothing to take the blow. Not even the strangely strong stick could withst-
Gershwin’s hand jolted, and he realized his sword was no longer within his grasp. In fact, it was no longer anywhere near him. He immediately cursed, and raised his shield to block the counter attack, but none came. He lowered the shield to reveal the man was putting the stick away.
“Christ, is that how you deal with everyone you disagree with? Hey, you lot, does he beat you? You can tell me, it’s safe here.”
Murmurs of confusion rumbled from behind Gershwin, and he himself was torn. The man wasn’t gloating, but he had clearly let his guard down, thinking the fight was over… should he take advantage of it? No, the man had disarmed his strongest strike… with a stick. Loathe as he was to admit it, this man might have been more powerful than he had originally surmised.
“Fine, whatever. Just give them a- oh, there we go.”
[Congratulations! Humanity has accomplished their first trial! Though this test was fairly easy, the others will be strenuous, and require immense ability and dedication to overcome. At the dawn of the next day, your next quest will be issued, and your village will appear where the greatest contributor to the quest’s completion wills it: Amadeus. Seek out this exemplary warrior and rise to new and ever greater heights.]
The notification filled Gershwin’s vision, and his confusion was the only thing to reach new heights. A sudden dread fell over him.
“What…” he asked, his mouth dry. “-did you say your name was?”
“Amadeus. It’s a pleasure.”