Bucket looked at the pile of rubble that had crashed into his enemy mear moments ago.
Gore splashed out of the pile of rock and vague wood, coating the ground underneath it in a coat of dark red paint.
As Bucket observed where his enemy had called, he did the respectful thing and pulled out a jar filled with yellow liquid. Before he then threw it at the pile of rubble.
Basy looked confused for several seconds as he looked at Bucket back to the pile of now vaguely worse smelling crushed corpse and rubble till he put the obvious together. And then started mental hurling in the far right side of Bucket's brain.
Which if you have had someone hurl into your head before from the inside instead of the outside. And provided said someone was alive, not bull shiting you. And wasn't criminally insane after the experience. Then you would know it was vaguely uncomfortable to a fault.
Bucket would describe it as the demon trying to corrupt him but most people would rightfully doubt that first of all, a crusader would have such ease in controlling a demon, and second of all, they would doubt it was a demon due to throwing up not being what corrupted most people. It was the people's loss of faith and humanity (Or elvenity or orcvinity or something else entirely if something else) and the general lack of luck people possessed by demons tended to have.
The reason most never told the crusader about this was that he was a fucking six-foot-tall bastard who was wearing armor that weighed more than a house. And could easily cut said people in half.
Suffice to say, most people preferred their lives over a slight chance to have educated a man who would massacre orphans if he thought it would garner attention from his god.
As Bucket finished defacing a corpse, he turned and started walking over towards the gate. The massive structure had twenty rows of black steel bar's coming into a pointed end which had dug itself into the ground to close the area. But the entrance had been torn apart, having been smashed open when the knights attacked.
And ripped apart by the following waves of sexually active naked peasants and suicide imps. The gate had been leveled by the attack, with everything besides the pieces of metal having been ripped and thrown apart/away by the series of explosions.
Though the waves of naked men and women had helped in loosening a few bricks.
Several bodies were groaning as they slowly tried to move or get up. Bucket's blade flashed to his hands and he immediately started stabbing the bodies with relentless vigor. His attacks ripping apart the barely alive men and women with no remorse.
Bucket's blade quickly sliced the offending heretics apart before the man moved quickly out of the area that had once been a gate towards a semi-prosperous and fully heretical town. On the street's just inside, rough concrete and steel blocks pilled and blocked the streets for the most part.
The skeletal remains of buildings helping add to the obstacles. Bucket quickly moved forward. The follower of Flappy navigating the remains of pagan statues which he spat on. The bodies of heretical soldiers and guards and peasants which he stomped and kicked.
And the first few corpses of his brother's squires. Rippiy Rafty cones go a Clackity was the first body he saw. The man had ripped in half, his bottom having been hurled in front of Bucket. The legs were glad in barely held together armor. Having been ripped and gnawed apart by the numerous hordes of peasants that swept up the knights.
The man had released a powerful roar that had helped the band of dutiful worshippers, having weakened the enemy through a powerful roar that had been affected by Flappy's will. Making the very weapons the enemies had held fall out of their grasp. Leaving them open to a brutal and swift end.
Bucket didn't know what had caused the man's sudden detachment but he guessed it had something to do with Mickey Man-Tongued Albert. That beast had felled his friend Popcorn brutally and cruelly.
It was something the worshipper of Flappy could not forgive. he would have his vengeance, which was when Mickey came out of a building that had been reduced to half its original size. Remarkably untouched when the rest of the buildings around it had been leveled to the ground.
Mickey Man-Tongued Albert walked out of the ruined building, one of its mouths feasted on the upper half of Ripply Rafty cones go a Clackity. The man held a painful and tortured face as the abomination swallowed the rest of the man whole.
All of its mouths quickly grew open, each one spitting out an array of snake-skinned whip tongues. Which cracked the air with sudden and powerful attacks. Shaking the very air itself with the physical power that carried itself behind the blows. Bucket had no shield and those that were around him were either too damaged or had been used and made by heretics.
Bucket quickly dodged to the side, using the piece of rubble just in front of the legs of Rippiy (by Basy's declaration) Three of nine tongues flashed where Bucket once was. The attacks passing through the air but cracking back with immense power.
Cost: 30 SP, Range: Long, Stat: End Power Shot: When you need to take care of the big boys. You need something that can turn a shitty arrow into an actual dangerous weapon. Hell, even arrow's made from the scales of dragons can't compare to a well powered and place fireball.
Cost: 40 SP, 30 MP, Range: Medium Long, Stat: End, Per, and Mag Entangling Shot: Have terrible aim? Maybe just don't have the skills to land a hit on a relatively strong target cause of terrain (yeah right)? This skill has you covered by physically restraining your enemies, allowing your relatively sucky aim to land a hit! This skill has never failed (because those that had it fail died shortly after).
Cost: 40 SP, 10 MP, Range: Medium Medium, Stat: End, Per, Cha, Mag Enraging Shot: You have to be an extra kind of annoying to be this shitty at hitting your targets, it's so shitty. That even your targets are mad at you for not being able to hit! At least that enraged Barbarian will be easier to hit, right? Right???
Bucket looked at the deluge of information in a haze. The sudden menu appearance distracting him from three tongue whips from attacking at his already compromised back. The whips ripped through the metal with extreme ease, with once managing to create a light scratch on his back.
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Bucket quickly ran towards the destroyed skeleton of another building, which had only half of the first floor's wall having survived the explosions. Bucket didn't wait long for Mickey to destroy his cover, mostly because Mickey did it seconds after he took it. Snake tongued whips ripping through the thin wall of stone with even more extreme ease.
The whips tore down the small wall like it was nothing. As the whips shot forward to tear into Bucket, all it hit was air. Bucket had jumped to a different direction an inch or two away after he had taken cover. His blade came down with an Over Head Blow. The strike cutting through all three whips like a hot knife through melting butter.
The tongues feel down onto the ground unmoving, not just the ones he had cut but all of the three tongues. One of Mickey's three mouths having closed, chopping off the tongues in the process.
Bucket quickly ran forward with a dash. An unskilled one but a dash none the less. Bucket quickly ran in front of Mickey, his blade coming down in another Over Head Blows, the strike splitting into three and cutting deep chunks of flesh off the beast.
Bucket dodged a strike from Mickey's left gruesome hand, the limb, barely a stub at that. Having come at Bucket with surprising speed. Bucket had jumped back a foot away from Mickey to dodge. But that was what Mickey, the idiotic but sometimes smart Albert, wanted.
Its tongues from its other two mouths quickly flew out and roared around the beast. Spinning this way and that, quickly turning once moderately dangerous weapons into spinning flesh knives.
Bucket charged in foolishly again. His armor being torn open in less than a second, Bucket was sent flying back out. Numerous wounds now tattering the man, blood flowing freely out of the wounds like nothing else.
Bucket's helmet remained intact though, and through the eyelids, one could see pupils not just changing sizes due to pain and bloodloss. But also through rage and hatred at Mickey. Bucket slowly got up and made a break for it.
His speed was pitifully slow as he ran away from Mickey, and Mickey gave chase with his tongues. Bucket had just managed to round a corner where he tripped and fell. The tongues quickly grabbed onto his foot and lifted him in the air by several feet before pulling back.
Then a hatchet came from nowhere, slicing off two of the tongues Mickey had on Bucket, the other tongues quickly fled back to Albert's waiting maw.
Bucket's last few moments of consciousness before pure blackness was when he saw several little figures rush to him.
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Billy hated the form he had set for his descent on this world. Which he had aptly named The Hole, he didn't care what name it had had before. it was The Hole, nothing more, nothing less.
His appearance was that of a wrinkled old child-man thing. With an oval head and three purple eyes on his forehead. A brown and grey leather pants and tunic were created around him when he had descended.
He had quickly rushed to the location nearest to him when he had descended. Northern Hill's Orphanage, a quaint area that was once in a peaceful if slightly more disgusting part of the city. Wiltons Orphanage had been the other option. But that one seemed like it didn't need his help to survive. All the children had combat classes after all.
Once he had reached the orphanage. Which had held only a handful number of survivors from the original troop. Billy had quickly taken command and led a party out to investigate. By sheer dumb luck on their parts, they had found the only invader to have survived the bombardment. Who had been getting some nasty treatment from some stupid tentacles?
It had been extremely confusing for the most part when Billy had seen that.
But he guessed beggars couldn't be choosers when he had found the thing he needed to get the children out of here alive. They were his best hope of understanding what had happened to the world while he had left it unattended.
Not only could he use their (And now his tale) to get some sweet information. With the right amount of info managing and event manipulation. He could find out all the machinations and plans and powers in this world, while the system had given him a brief overview of all of them.
Not only was the info likely wrong or buggy in someplace. Billy needed to know what actions or powers they truly had before he could make a move.
He couldn't go kill some random evil wizard. Because the guy had a likely chance to have some intense political power moves going on around him. Making removing him a problem as his death reshuffled a massive wave of the geopolitical landscape.
This was a tough job, being a God and all. At least the deities only had to manage parts of a world. he had to manage hundreds of them.
Which was exhausting.
It's like having a bunch of headless incompetent chickens as employees and every day they had to meet a massive deadline.
This was tough work. But it came with all the upsides with being a God, which trumped all the downsides.
Bucket slowly opened his eyes (he thinks?) Bucket was definitely conscious at the moment. And using his mental abilities to full effect.
Slowly the man got up. Shifting his muscles as he reoriented himself. Most of his upper armor had been stripped apart by whatever had used those tentacles.
Bucket slowly eyed Billy and the rest of the orphans. His eyes lingering on the small group of around half a dozen. The man then looked at the basic cleaning supplies in the corner.
Billy smiled as the man calculated his chances of survival and which path offered the best chance.
Now, Billy had a good sword to use in helping him uncover the secrets of this world-
Bucket smashed his fist straight into Billy's face. The blow sending the God in a boy (That sounds wrong) flying into the wall. His little's bodies bones crunched with a powerful squelch, as multiple bones split out of his body.
The children he had gathered widened their eyes and quickly tried to move into battle positions. But it was no use, the two closest to Billy. Both Guardian and Battle Commoner watched with wide eyes as Bucket grabbed a random piece of wood lying around the room.
With a smash, the man struck the closest children to him. Wood flew as both of the boy's face were twisted and mangled beyond recognition.
Blood spilled onto the floor like a river. The next two fared little better, the third one getting a kick to the stomach and smashing into a wall right next to Billy. His body folding in on itself like a mushy cracker.
The fourth child actually managed to land a punch on Bucket, but the blow didn't even leave a mark as the man grabbed the child's neck and crushed it in his hands.
The Battle Commoner charged with a flying kick, the strike knocking the 'holy' warrior off balance. The strike left him wide open for the Guardian to hit Bucket in the chest. The blow sending him smashing back into the wall opposite of them.
The Battle Commoner struck forward with a second strike. A kick this time straight towards the neck. But the blow didn't land as Bucket smashed his head into the child's foot.
The entire leg shattered, all of the bone ripping out and exploding across the entire room like shrapnel. The blast sliced deep into the Guardian's eyes.
And like that, it was over. The Battle Commoner fell, dead in seconds.
While the Guardian was struck in the throat and slowly suffocated. Billy's last thought as his soul would leave him was 'why?'
That was when the man was returned his bird's eye view of the city. His mind still struggling to adapt to what had just happened. had the man seriously murdered a bunch of children!?
What in the holiest of fuck was wrong with these people! This was definitely a War Crime!