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Tarion
I floated in the camp of shaved bandits. All bald. In Shaved culture, your warmth must be won and earned. Meaning, every piece of clothing they wear is fur from an animal they personally caught or stole. The inability to hunt or fight meant being left cold and discriminated against by fellow villagers. No warmth meant death in the rocky lands above Osberg, where it is almost forever winter. From that, it can be surmised that such a spartan-like culture raised warriors of a different breed by whittling their people down to their strongest and tallest, making their physical strength known across the world. But when there are no weak, there is no one to aspire to be better for.
Hymir was weak. Shorter than these lot and he strived. He improved on himself because he needed to. No matter the method.
I inspected the baldies. A bunch of first circles and second circles. A few thirds and a rare fourth. Their Strength and Vitality attributes were beyond any normal fighter. But nothing I can’t handle.
At the sight of me, they stood proud with their Viking tattoo, smirking as I landed. Unhooking their axes, one of them gloated. “Should have stayed up in the sky, little man. We could accidentally step on you.” Hundred or so Shaved erupted in laughter with low, booming voices.
I sliced the head and the first to speak's head flopped back. Blood gushing from an open wound on his neck made the bandits next to him flinch. Like a field of blossoming flowers, the Shaved tune on their mana armour. One Shaved's attacked axe blurred as he ripped through the air towards my head.
The ground depressed Under my boot from the second circle's attack. One-handed, my greatsword blocked my strike. The Shaved Grunted in Surprised that I didn't crumble into a mess of bone and meat like their usual prey.
“What are you doing? Stop taking it easy on the Friedman!” A Shaved at the back shouted.
I gently pushed and the shaved axe went like on a spring. The second circle Shaved, irritated and ashamed, brought down his axe once more. I pulled back my sword and hit his axe up. Forearms bent, bones snapped like twigs, sticking out of torn skin. A giant of a man cried aloud for his mother flopping his arms. I ended the screaming with my greatsword thrust into the middle of his forehead.
Roaring with spittle, five charged at me and I started to try. Mana carved its way through them. Cut several more. I spun on the tip of my boot, leaving a hammer to smash the earth. A flash step and a slash ended the Shaved’s life through his bowels. A flash step and slash through a man's chin. A flash step blade thrust into a first circle’s heart. A flash step and slash to the legs were blocked by a third circle.
My left held my blade. Making a 40-degree angle, I sliced up under the Shaved's head, peeling off an ugly man's face. A massive hammer game from my right. With my right boot, I kicked at it. A shockwave divided the earth, pushing everyone (alive or a corpse) aside.
The rare fourth circle. An older man. Old meant a dangerous experienced Shaved. Mana tethers grew from my boot, wrapping around the hammer. I stomped the hammer down; the elder Shaved didn't leave his hammer.
Point to the sky, I brought down my greatsword upon the enemy and my sword sparked off a blue shield. Circles in my chest revved and my mana saw lacerated the shield. The fourth circle, sensing the danger, strained his arm, trying to take his weapon off my leg. Tethers let go so I wouldn't be flung like whipped. My left, right, and above my greatsword blocked heavy strikes. Mind calm, I let his hammer grind down the long edge of my sword, parrying the hammer to the ground with a massive thunk. A flash step got me close enough to smell the beastly man as my blade swung from the right.
“Arrow!” Kurt shouted from afar.
I know.
A small shield of mana snapped the arrow by my face. My blade still travelled at speed. A desperate war cry brought out a thick shield from the elder.
“Mm.”
My loose grip tightened. Left foot in, I twisted my body like spring. Mana condensed brightly around my blade. Eyes hot with Qi, I watched the struggling Shaved’s mana.
I completed my swing. The air cracked like thunder a moments later. Mana cut through like sharp scissors through paper, an elder shaver laid on the ground googly blood as his lower was a meter away. Wailing alerted me and I looked around. Burly men cried with tears at the elder’s defeat. He is loved.
A mana bullet bore a hole in the man's head to end his suffering. They screamed to the sky, saying a name I couldn’t pronounce. They all raised their weapons. Not one soul ran. Perhaps it is part of their culture to go down with the leader. It was a waste of talent but I don’t mind.
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“Brave ones.” I motioned for them to come. At my taunt, a stampede began.
I smile, swapping my greatsword for two daggers.
Nice. I needed to level up this skill.
Haru
Terrible…
Tarion left with Kurt and a cohort of darkly dressed men and women and I was alone in the Osberg camp. It was as if a tornado came wrecking through. Men soothed their sores and injuries; some watched about like skittish deer. The church had not permitted the use of healers for civil disputes between nobles, leaving many unfortunate soldiers with less chance to make a full recovery and be fight-ready.
What are you waiting for!? Heal them!
“I can’t. The moment I make myself known to the church. I could take me back.”
They are already aware of us.
“What makes you so certain?”
Zeb. Why would a Cardinal stay in Osberg?
“…To watch us.”
I stared at the sky, where the stars beyond the blue looked down upon the earth. Was it you?
I sighed. “Alright, let's heal.”
I stepped to the leader of the camp. “Umm…”
“Jimmy, Your Grace. It's only been some time and you have forgotten my name.”
“I will ask for your forgiveness another time. Show me where the injured are.”
“Injured…” Jimmy stood, looking worn out; he persisted. “Follow me.”
Walking through the camp, there was a different reaction than I was used to. After many years of fighting, my presence was expected or there was no fighting, just losing. But these men’s eyes were curious. Some were doubtful. Others had a hateful glare. A few had pity in their stare. Even this Jimmy gave mesubtle looks.
“Why do they-”
Look at us that way? No clue. I have fought with the guard. Whether it was to save my husband or to protect Osberg from the cursed. However, stories can be fabricated for propaganda. I am a unique duchess, from a humble background. Many of these men have not seen me in person before. Easy to distrust such an unknown.
“Over here, your grace.” Jimmy opened open up a tent curtain, and I was welcomed by the growning of men. Broken bones, some spiking out. Blood pooling from the obviously dead. I searched across the suffering to find one who needed my help now. A man with arrows in his shoulder and stomach screamed for this family.
“PLEASE TAKE IT OUT! I CAN’T DIE HERE! MY CHILDREN, THEY NEED ME!” Lying down on the floor, the soldier reached out and I grabbed his hand. Mana pulsed from my heart to my hand. Slowly, the mana eased into the man.
“Doctors! Take out the arrows.”
A doctor nearby looked at Jimmy nervously. “But the patient-”
“TAKE OUT THE ARROWs.”
The doctor sucked his lips in and did as I asked. The soldier squeezed my hand tight, screaming all sorts of insults he would be arrested for saying to a Duchess. I pushed more mana and the wounds healed. Slowly.
I forget that the ceremony is to come. My true powers haven't unlocked. I looked around at the hundred other men. I breathed in with my eyes closed.
Let me.
I opened my eyes.
I can do better.
“Excuse me!?”
The only reason you can heal is because of me and my daily training and studying. I forged five circles that gave you the ability to heal this man.
The man coughed while I still held his weakening hand.
I know this body better. Let me heal him!
I gave up some control and my body didn't feel quite mine.
Hundreds of tethers sprout from me, startling everyone. Like ribbons in the wind, each floated to a wound solid. Like a plug into a socket, I felt connected to them all.
Mana pulsed out. So stable, yet strong. There was a strange sensation in my heart—a vibration. I could see it in my mind’s eye. Circles. Five of them spinning in tandem. Holy power surged through meridians to these circles and back out in a steady stream of energy.
The holes in the soldier healed; life came to his skin. I heard the rustling of cloth and I glanced around.
“How…?”
I didn't want to be a burden.
On one knee, the healed bowed with a fist on their chest. The man who missed his children weaped was on the floor with joy.
I stood, breathing in deep I should be exhausted yet this strong body kept going like it just had a small jog.
Told you, hijacker. Better.
“Men. Bring me more of the wounded.”
They saluted at my order and sprinted into action.
Looking at the hand, I pushed aside guilt and I made a decision.
I must speed up the assimilation.