An hour ago, Red woke up groggy and disoriented, unable to recall how he ended up lying face down in the dirt. As the world came into focus, he saw a group of glowing faces surrounding a giant man sitting upon a boulder. He looked like a king, surrounded by his subjects.
“We’ve brought him, Battle Lord,” a man’s voice rang out.
In a rumbling tone, the deep voice of the Battle Lord answered, “Who is this?”
“Um, Battle Lord, it is who you’ve requested…” the man replied.
Weighted footsteps strode up to Red, and a shadow cast by the bright moon covered him. He cranked his head up to see someone he recognized.
“Big bro Otai?” Red sputtered.
Otai took a step back in surprise, recognizing the title of “big bro” given to him by the kickboxer entity. He prodded, “Are you truly that boy? How have you become like this? You look like one of those debaucherous heathens from that jewel city.”
Red finally realized his dire situation. Around him were walls of light that created a box, the same that had trapped him before. Surrounding him were the glowing faces of numerous Badlanders, their eerie face tattoos emitting the same pale glow as the moon above, making them appear as ghosts.
Red sat up and smiled warily, “Big bro Otai, greetings! Can you believe what those Loderans have done to me?”
“You’re a Loderan,” one of the Badlanders beside Otai pointed out.
Red laughed nervously, “No, no, I’m a slum rat. Loderans don’t like me. Big bro Otai will tell you.” He couldn’t conjure up the vindictive fury his kickboxer entity had, his new enlightened mind had made too much sense of what truly mattered, and that was his friends.
But he did find in that moment something that did bother him. “Can you believe what they’ve done to me? My body has become like a seal’s! I have become more fit for the water than land with how smooth they’ve made me. Damned servants, I mean, damned Loderans!”
Otai, somehow convinced, nodded enthusiastically and said, “That is right, boy. Keep that anger burning inside you. It seems they’ve forced onto you some of their debaucherous methods. Didn’t I tell you? The heathens of that city can never compare to warriors like us!”
Red’s head bobbed quickly in agreement.
“Now,” the Battle Lord said, “we shall return together to the Lorn Badlands and conquer it. When we return, it will be with all of the Badlands as one, and we will crush this putrid city.”
Red coughed awkwardly and muttered, “I’ve decided to stay.”
“What was that?” Otai’s brow furrowed.
Red’s eyes circled the skies, trying to find an excuse. “Why should I leave when I should be starting now?” He found his angle on a proper lie, thankful for his new enlightened mind. “Yes, I will attack the city within and tenderize it for you and the others!” The word “tenderize” he had learned from Poly as she used it at times when she prepared meat for him.
Battle Lord Otai thought for a moment, then called out over his shoulder, “Nasset!” From among the surrounding Badlanders, a young woman stepped out, seemingly the same age as Red or a bit older. “Come here, daughter.”
The young woman walked over, her long hair swaying as she walked, and bowed to Otai as she spoke with respect, “Father.”
Otai then turned to Red and said, “You will grant me a grandson from your bloodline.”
“What?!” Red shouted but corrected himself when he saw displeasure swim across Otai’s face. “My apologies, I was so happy that I couldn’t keep it in. I would be honored to gift you a grandson from my bloodline.”
Otai wanted to take Red with them, but Red’s unwillingness caused him to take another route. Bloodlines were what granted humans a place as one of the most powerful races in Eronia. He himself was a recipient of a powerful bloodline, allowing him to become a Battle Lord.
But his power had peaked, and it brought him limitless sorrow. There wasn’t a way he could ever strengthen himself past his current form, the Badland rankings of Underchief and Warchief a mere dream he could never reach. He could only look toward the future, and that future lay in his only daughter. The women he had made carry his seed had only produced sons besides her but those women had similar bloodlines to his and some less so. They could not give him what he wanted: a powerful heir with the potential to become a Warchief, a ranking that could stake true claim to the Badlands.
Even if Red had second thoughts of living in the Badlands, Otai would at least receive a grandson from a powerful bloodline. If Red refused to grant him such, his daughter would inform him, and he would then have to bring about retribution. Since his daughter was considered the most beautiful woman in their tribe, he warranted a healthy young man like Red wouldn’t refuse.
“Nasset,” Otai commanded, “you will accompany this warrior and take his seed until you are sure you are with child. Return to the Badlands afterward with glory.”
Nasset glanced quickly at Red with his smooth body and handsome face and frowned, thinking, This is supposed to be a warrior? He looks like coddled meat!
She kept her head bowed and answered through gritted teeth, “I will do as my Battle Lord commands.”
Otai smiled widely as his face tattoo burned bright. He turned to his surrounding troop and roared, “I shall have a grandson more powerful than any in the Badlands!”
His troop answered his fervor with their own, chanting, “Badland is my land! Badland is my land! Badland is my land!”
“And that’s what happened,” Red explained, finishing his story of how he managed to survive.
Zini’s eyes couldn’t blink. “You’re saying you have to make offspring with this person?” he asked, incredulous, pointing at the red-haired woman.
Red laughed. “Can you believe I got away in such a fashion? Life’s sudden turns truly come unexpectedly at times, don’t they?”
The deafening sound of a moo reverberated through the forest, causing the leaves on the trees to shake. Zini turned to look oddly at the mountainous buffalo, the horns on its head breaching the canopy. This species of beast was not native to the forest; Zini was sure of it after spending so much time here.
“Oh, big bro Otai gave me this buffalo they caught wandering around here,” Red said, noticing Zini’s bewildered gaze.
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“Don’t call him ‘big bro’,” Zini snapped. “And we should kill this woman.”
The Badlander woman, Nasset, stepped into a fighting stance and began to chant repeatedly, “Badland is my land!”
Red got between them, holding up his hand. He urged loudly, “Stop it!”
Zini spat, “Red, this woman is a slaver. She harmed Franlye and the other slaves and was willing to damn them to a lifetime of servitude!”
“Those who cannot fight are only tools, not deserving of glory!” Nasset hissed.
The necromancer began to glow a dark color as he rebuked, “See how they view others, Red? They aren’t humans; they are savages! I will enslave this one with my Soul Expropriator and see how she enjoys her life being in the control of another!”
“My life is owned by my Warchief,” Nasset growled. “To be owned by true warriors is glorious.”
“What a deluded savage you are.”
“Debaucherous heathen!”
“That’s enough,” Red spoke sternly. “I am going home.” He glowed with mana then disappeared and came back into view standing on top of the buffalo that mooed, sensing it had a passenger. “Come along if either of you are going the same way.”
“You’re not leaving without me,” Nasset denied and glowed, flashing up to Red afterwards. She would not fail her mission and return home without glory.
Zini stood where he was, his face askewed in disgust looking at the young woman next to Red.
“Rose and the others will return, Zini,” Red said, his eyes showing sympathy. “They will find you. Rose will not let you go.”
Zini took a moment to consider him before sighing. “I’m afraid we will have to part ways if you plan on bringing that woman with you.” A skeletal hand as tall as the buffalo emerged from beneath him and placed him onto the beast’s back. “But after we get to Soalde.”
Red smiled. “Well, that’s a relief. It was getting cramped in Dwindle’s house anyway.”
A thundering moo echoed throughout the forest again as the gargantuan buffalo began to move, sensing its riders willing it to begin traveling. It had clearly been domesticated, but neither Red nor Zini could guess why a trained magical beast like the buffalo was found wandering around the Vitelwood.
“This isn’t over,” Zini whispered harshly to the Badlander woman.
“It’s already over for you heathens,” she hissed back at him. “You just don’t know it yet!”
In hearing them begin to bicker, Red sighed heavily. It was going to be a long trip. He didn’t know what he was going to do with either of them. All he knew now was that he wanted to get home and apologize to his friends. He just hoped they weren’t too upset with him for disappearing.
In the City of Soalde, the upper districts' white buildings shone in stark contrast to the Classy Slums, which were beginning to settle in for the night. The motley buildings' lights flickered and died out one after the other. In a ramshackle structure made of metal scraps and various types of wood, an older man stepped out of the broken door.
He was dressed better than one would expect of a slum dweller, wearing a freshly washed black tunic, clean brown trousers, and boots that shone as if newly polished. The only item that seemed out of place was a pair of spectacles that hung from his bruised and burnt face, held together by a tied string.
"I'm sorry," the older man said, turning back to face the door with a regretful expression.
A woman in a patched-up dress, who had seen him out, smiled wearily. "Euness, stop blaming yourself. My Mas is a fool who gambles too much. He gambled with his life this time, and I'm glad he made it out with only broken bones. If you hadn't been there, he would've died."
Euness nodded solemnly. "I'm glad your husband is doing better."
"Don't forget to take care of yourself, Euness. At least my Mas has me to look after him. Don't hesitate to ask anyone here in the Classy Slums for help. We all care for you," the woman assured with a hand on his shoulder.
Euness bid her farewell and left, passing by the Hunter's Guild branch building, one of the few in the slums that wasn't dilapidated or made from low-grade materials. He paused for a moment to admire it before heaving a deep sigh and moving on.
"Euness?" a feminine voice called out to him.
He turned to see a familiar face. "Priestess Vilda," Euness smiled and bowed formally. "It is truly good to see you."
Priestess Vilda was one of the few success stories to have emerged from the slums. Her parents were unlicensed mages who had scraped together enough money to send her to the Puradyte church, where she learned holy magic. Representing the church in the Hunter's Guild, she often took on quests to spread the word of their gods. Given that the Hunter's Guild was one of the most influential human institutions in the world, her work for the church was that much more magnified because of it.
Vilda approached Euness and asked, "Why weren't you at the guild?"
“The guild parted ways with me,” Euness replied, his expression blank, but his eyes betrayed the pain he felt.
“How can that be? After all the work you put in…” Vilda tried to say but Euness held up a hand, stopping her.
“I am a criminal,” Euness stated. “I was caught breaking into a transport carriage in my attempts to look for Red.”
“The so-called ‘champ’?” Vilda asked, her interest piqued.
Adjusting his damaged spectacles, Euness sighed with regret, “He was taken by the White Scale Viper gang. I was with Mas and an acquaintance when we raided the transport carriage, thinking he was in there.”
“What connections could a transport company use to force the hand of the guild to release one of their own from service?”
“I heard it was the City Lord’s Hall,” Euness said, the bags in his eyes seeming heavier.
Vilda reacted strangely as she said, “Don’t you think this city is sick?”
“I’m sorry, priestess. I do not follow your meaning.”
A shadowy gleam was in Vilda’s eye as she spoke, “This city is sick. Politicians run rampant as well as the criminals, both parties eating at the same table. How can this city put more value on cold hard coins than on living beings? Where is true justice? The sickness runs deep.”
Euness had never known Vilda to speak in such a manner. Even her voice carried a lower tone.
Vilda offered a badge to Euness. It wasn’t a Hunter’s badge but a badge with the symbol of swirling stars seemingly spinning into infinity.
“Seek the path of the stars,” Vilda said to him. “We can fix all that is broken and heal all that is sick. No one should suffer under the tyranny of poor circumstances and apathy.” With that, she began to walk away but Euness’ voice stopped her.
“Can the people involved in this star business help in finding Red?” Euness asked. As Mas’ wife had mentioned, he should be looking after himself, but he couldn’t help wanting to find Red. He wanted to see someone from the Reeking Valley succeed. If someone like that could, he would feel anything was possible, even for a middle aged man without a family or job.
Vilda’s blue eyes softened. “We shouldn’t linger on the past, Euness,” she advised. “We both know how thorough the White Scale Viper gang is at what they do. Find the path of the stars, Euness. We can stop what happened to Red from happening to someone else. The stars, Euness. Seek the path.”
With that, Vilda left, her white robes billowing in the wind.
Euness sighed once more, feeling an overwhelming sense of forlorn wash over him. It was as if the sun would never rise again, casting a permanent shadow over his spirit. Looking at the badge in his hand, he thought, perhaps a better way can be made.
As Euness trudged down the street, his mind consumed with thoughts of Red and his uncertain future, he stumbled upon a pair of diminutive figures. The two were lugging around heavy packs, packed to the brim with supplies, and their belts clanged with various tools. Despite their burden, their faces lit up upon catching sight of the older man. It was the dwarf and pygmy elf, Dwindle and Poly
Poly greeted Euness with a bow and Dwindle addressed him with a smile. "Well met, human. Well met indeed," he said.
Euness returned the greeting, but was taken aback when he realized they were leaving. "Why is it that you two look to be embarking on a journey?" he asked.
“We’re going to find Red!” Poly cheered. She had awoken not too long ago and felt renewed. She couldn’t remember what happened or why she fell unconscious but when she awoke, she couldn’t sit still. She was more determined than ever to find Red, which sparked Dwindle into action.
Dwindle adjusted his belt of pouches and nodded in agreement, "There's nothing keeping us back. We will find Red. I promise you that."
Euness was hesitant, "But the guild—"
"I've been released as well," Dwindle interrupted, pulling out a letter to show Euness. "I was just informed in the morning about it. No-good politicians got involved. Now that I've been let go, there's nothing holding me back."
After a moment of thought, Dwindle extended an invitation, "Come with us, Euness."
Euness's hand instinctively went into his pocket and closed around the badge given to him by Vilda. Should he seek the path of the stars, the hope that Vilda promised of a better tomorrow or continue his search for Red, the one person who represented hope for the slums?
He was lost in thought when a group of men in black clothing emerged from around the corner, led by a young man with buck teeth and bandages covering his ears. The young man's gaze settled on Poly among Euness and the others, and he pointed at her. Suddenly, the rest of the group rushed forward, charging at the trio of Classy Slums residents.