I apologize for the amateurish fight scene beforehand and the lack of real action although the character in this chapter goes against six opponents at the same time. I just think it is unrealistic in a world where a sword cut can spell your doom that people group up in a wild melee, taking the risks of getting injured by their own friends. I know the flamberge is not such a useful weapon, apart from sawing through lesser durable poleweapons, but I just like the name and the looks of it. Don't hate me guys! :(

Characters are drastically changed as well as their chronological appearances, but do not fret, they will all be included. And yeah I thought about a wild comment in Arbiter of Power ordering me to make an Alexander X Lizzy ship come true and I am honestly considering it. If you don't know who any of those two are, do not worry, they will appear sooner or later.

Anyways, as always leave a comment down below and... Enjoy! :D

"I... I can't *Huff!*... I am exhausted.", I slumped down against the thick trunk of a tree. The cooling shade and moist air refreshed my dry skin and I felt better already.

I looked down at my turgid and bent ankle, glowing purple and hot. Pus bubbled out of a rough cut on my left foot, turned into a completely useless deadweight at the moment.

Luckily I pocketed a small piece of glass before I rammed it straight into that bastards throat. I might not have any disinfectant on hand but a strapping of old cloth should suffice for now.

I gnashed my teeth for the upcoming pain before I stabbed the sharpened glass shard into the wound, widening the putrid and black cut.

"Ah.... ARGH... Ha.... Haaaa.... FUCK!", I thrust the knife deeper into the wound, straight into the pocket full of ichor, until it splashed out in a fountain of crimson and foul yellow.

My head felt light and my stomach knotted under a sudden assault of contractions. I laid onto the ground and began retching food that had since long left my body. Instead of half digested food only clean spittle and acidic bile left my mouth.

It took me a minute to gather my bearings and before I noticed excruciating pain rose from my left foot. A small puddle of blood and pus has already formed below my sole and the stream was steadily leaking from my famished flesh. If I don't bandage that grizzly wound soon I will blackout from bloodloss. And with my hunters stuck to my heels I wouldn't want that.

Tearing away at a large portion of my burlap patchwork I used the thick strip of old cloth as a makeshift ligature. I tightened the strapping with as much force as my dehydrated, disease-ridden and malnourished body could handle until I was satisfied with my red tinged foot. The bandaged stung a bit -much less than the wound itself of course- and might have been to tight, but I smiled at my impromptu work nonetheless.

Listlessly and too exhausted to keep my prior pace I kept sitting on the garled roots of the sturdy alder.

I harked to the sounds of twigs cracking, birds singing, my own laboured breaths and the creak and grating of the earth between my fingers. The feeling of dirt running between your fingers, sometimes soft and other times brittle and hard, had something soothing to it, like nature itself was embracing me, shielding me from the terrors of what is called civilisation.

I sighed dejectedly, no point in thinking about unecessary stuff. Sooner or later I will be found and then... hell, I don't even know what will happen to me then. Either I will get killed for my disobedience, made a toy for my torturers or they want me to keep fighting in that hellish place.

Humans are so despicable.

My hatred burned strong for those savages, those disgusting and vile people. They would sell their soul for their own gain, they would kill their own family just to live a year longer. My loathing for the human race ran deep, deeper than any other emotion I could afford over the years. You could hate for free, happiness mostly came with a hidden price tag somewhere, but hate? Hate is all that one can afford who has nothing at all. And over the years I had accumulated hate in spades.

*FWEEEEET!*

The sadly short lived respite was ended by a loud whistling noise in the distance. Alas, my pursuers had caught up.

I legged it as fast as I could, storming and ducking under low hanging branches and whip like boughs. I jumped over tilted rocks, small mountain torrents and unsavoury, spike strewn brushes until I stopped in the midst of a small glade.

The afternoon sun barely kept up with the creeping nightfall; light was sparse and visibility low. The worsening illumination did cause some troubles on my quick flight, like another deep gash across my thigh. I winced over the amount of blood that was flowing down my legs. 'Although it wasn't even that time of the month yet.'. Good, I can make jokes still, that can only mean I have yet to die.

I would have loved to laugh about my sardonic self-mockery if it didn't mean that I would be one step closer to death's door if I did.

Leaving the problem of my suspisciously increasing amount of soliloquies for another date I began a short rest. My hands cupped over my knees and my haggard breath came out in short puffs. My lungs ached from the sprint and my legs were bursting from the pain. The wound on my foot that had never closed to begin with only openned wider, giving way for dirt and infections while my blood loss steadily increased. 'I won't survive this night.', I thought rightly so as my vision got hazy.

"No, I won't die here. I will survive.", I whispered not only to myself but to this world as a whole. That I, Myrel Lyansong of the Yu'Maha, will survive. That I won't let myself fall in those puny humans' hands.

'As a War-empress I can and will not further shame my own race!', my mind bellowed and I tenderly caressed the silvern scales adnate on my arms. No, they will never get me! Either they will die today or I will take my own life!

I felt my innate magic turn wild at my bold thoughts, my recumbent scales bulged upwards in response, crackled and twined until they formed even blades. My bones creaked as the magical essence began pouring through my body, distorting my limbs into feral and beastly appendages. My hands and fingers grew, writhed and turned into sharp claws plated by bone and metal alike, the clotted wounds got covered by thin sheets of ash grey mail and my face was shadowed by a horned helmet, congenital and distinctive for the Yu'Maha.

"Haaah.... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!", I screamed heavenwards, my roar echoing through the forrest and rendering its inhabitants frightened and witless.

They wanted a hunt, I will give them one! One they won't so easily forget.

I got into position, leaned low onto the ground, my hands clawing into the dirt and my legs ready to pounce. I breathed hard on the moist soil, my loud, fervent respiration like thunder in my perked ears and my eyes flit and darted over the shaded canopy and thicket alike.

The pain, the countless wales littering my body, the falling strands of hair, I ignored them all. My mind was sharpened, my gaze focused. It was my inner beast ruffling and lolling, awakening inside of me. It needed blood, it craved the dark crimson.

A shudder running through the bushes signaled the start of a hopefully long and bloody battle, a carnage.

I shoot forward, my legs whipping onto the ground, uncoiling the tensed muscles like a siege-golem's springs. With blinding speed I flew over the ground, crossed a space of tens of meters in the blink of an eye and a single jump.

My right cocked back, fingers and claws spread wide, and then I let my metal cleaving talons whisk through the air.

A head popped up from the underbrush, a noble and dignified man if not for the gross and high-handed smile sported on his face. Like a useless quilt a lavish robe was drapped over his shoulder, hampering the man in trying to fiddle out his flimsy sword, as if I would let that happen.

My hand crashed onto the man, or so I thought, but instead it hit solid layers of reinforced steel, magically and mechanically.

The noble, Frederic Voile, paled as he saw my claws approach his oh so beautiful face -I'd love to shred that pretty face of his into pieces-, but calmed down after seeing that he himself remained unharmed.

His smile turned derisive and snide, a far cry from the mask he had on earlier -to deceive his troops I conclude-. His eyes squinted before he clapped his hands together.

"Oh my. My, my, my... Myrel my little mitten, you won't hurt your master, won't you?", his sarcastic smile pissed me off to no end.

"If you lay low I will end this with only a little spanking. Come my cute little kitty.", he beckoned for me like a stupid animal, like a mindless beast. That fucker!

"Or...", he ran his dirty fingers over his lips. "My little entourage here will need to use violence.", he gestured not only to the man that protected this trash with his own life but also to the group of men that were entering the glade with firm steps.

I shared a qick stare with all of them through my visor before I jumped back a few paces.

Three knights, armed with heavy plated mail, maces and thick shields. One archer with a full quiver, a massive longbow, a crossbow and a shortbow bound to his back as well as multiple knifes and dagger strapped to his waist. The man had a whistle around his neck, so he most likely had either a companion or was the scout. At his side was a towering man with a giant flamberge. The undulated blade was coupled with an edged shield.

The last man stood even further in the back, a massive tower the only way to describe this figure. With full body armor that must have weighed hundreds of pounds coloured in silver and emerald as well as an insignia of a lightning clad mallet on the shoulder this person could only be one: A paladin.

I gulped down to prevent myself from puking. Those guards of his were elite soliders, I could tell that much. Each should be worth around 5 normal soldiers, maybe more if they have acess to magic. But that Paladin behind him was of a whole different caliber. That man was one that could hardly be classified as mortal anymore.

They are the cusp of humanity, the strongest soldiers and the most elite of the elite. Each is said to be able to raze whole towns to the ground, either with physical or magical prowess. Their tales are legendary and even we, the Yu'Maha, a crazy and warmongering species of Demi-Humans, respect these figures. They are at least on par with our Elders, might even surpass them. 

And to fight without any weapons but their own hands, such is the way of a true warrior such is true warrior heaven! But it is said that they are loyal to their respective kingdoms only, so how? How did this lowly son of a backwater duke get the assistance of a Paladin?

Frederic noticed my glare, one that put none of them but the silent paladin in the back in my eyes, and laughed in delight.

"Oh! Oho! You are wondering about Adrian there?", he stood up from his crouched position and dusted of his robes with the same lazy and slovenly face as I came to know him. "He still owes my father some favors and, you know, as father's favorite he asked Adrian here to help me collect my toy.". That lewed smile of his again.... One day, one day I will break all his bones.

"Can't even get his slave back with his own hands.", I scoffed but that despicable man only smiled back in response.

"Why, of course! I would spare no expenses to get you back into my hands.", he answered and gave an underhanded sign at the same time. 'Idiot, as if I wouldn't notice that.'

The archer in the back nocked an arrow and began shooting, the knight that protected Frederic stomped forward and brought his mace down in a wide arc while the other two knights began circling me with their shields. Their steps were quick but not quick enough.

I dodged sideways, the warmace barely scratching my platry attire, and kicked off from the ground, jumping against one of the knights that was closing in.

My hand bolted forward, sharp and quick I thrust my claws into the thin visor, hardly pricking the skin of the person beneath but enough to make him back up in shock. With a kick to the sternum I send the man flying backwards, trip over the uneven ground and then fall on his behind.

A sharp whistle through the air announced the flurry of arrows that began hailing down on me. I braced the sharp projectiles, trying my best to dodge and failing miserably at it. The one handed crossbow shot in tandem with the shortbow resulting in a threshing.

The knights laid low, trying not to impede into the arrows trajectory while they closed off any escape.

The man that was sent onto the ground stop up and tackled me from behind, prompting a jab with the layered blades on my forearm. My scales screeched against the soft metal until they found entrance in a small gap at his ribs.

I trashed inside his chokehold, my natural blades cutting deeper and even piercing into the chainmail below, but instead of backing up he began pounding me with his shielded left.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I kicked against the man's knee caps with my taloned feet until they seperated from the armor. I grinned as the man kept turning my face bloodier than before without noticing his exposed joint.

Another kick against the flesh that was only sparsely covered by leather trousers rewarded me with a loud snap. He shortly leant to his left before he stabilized his weight on his hale right leg. But my talons, curved like dangerous hooks, were still dug deep into his bones and with my higher endurance but only slightly lesser strength I began dragging around his leg with sickening squelches.

This time the man reacted with a yelp before he tried to bash me with his mace. I grimaced and flung my own head backwards, repeatedly.

It was a test of our prided armors' durability.

Of course my natural and magically augmented armor was sturdier than the thin metal sallet and soon the latter caved in. Blood flowed through the visor as one of my horns managed to bury itself into the knight's face. Painfully so I ripped my horn through the frail skin and sought out the even softer parts like the eyes. But before I managed to land a solid hit, which would most likely end up in permanent blindness of the knight if no healer was on the spot, a shield bash to my stomach took the wind out of my sails. Winded and a bit dazed I was now beginning to grow a bit restless. With their physique surpassing mine they could easily keep me pinned down while another dealt blow after blow. But those men were stupid, as trained as they are, they still underestimated me.

Enraged one of the men bodyslammed me as well as his comrade into the ground, talk between a rock and a hard place. We were flung backwards, the man beneath me grunting as he impacted on the ground with two people abusing his body as a cushion.

Seeing the futility of the archer's arrows and the pickle his friend was in the other knight must have rushed forward, thinking such simple attacks could knock me out. But that was far from reality.

I bit into the inside of my cheek, letting blood flood my mouth and spit the man atop of me in the face. The spray of blood painted the man red and I nearly burst out laughing as I saw his unbelieving eyes, as if I had destroyed his whole world view. The liquid sizzled for a moment and the man began flailing about wildly with his hands scratching away at his helmet. But truth be told, my blood was unable to deal any real damage to flesh and skin, but iron and other metals were a different matter altogether. As one that could grow such things right out of her muscles and bones I should at least be able to reverse the transformation.

With enough leeway I sidled through the embrace with ease, the man I laid on still much too focused on the open left side of his face. The blood spurted out of the wound but it was by no means leathal or anything. Just shrug it off you weakling!

I jumped up, headbutting the knight that was struggling with my blood.

I grappled a bit with the man that had yet to realize that my blood had no corrosive effect on his flesh and pushed him back. I lead his arm behind his back, snaped his wrist and unwillingly he let his mace fall to the ground. A kick to the poplit left him kneeling on the ground.

Deftly I moved my body around his broad torso, just narrowly avoiding an arrow of the more lethal kind. The sharp tip split through the air and whistled straight into a tree in the distance. I could see the silver light pierce to the backside of the tree and then a bit further. The long bow the archer now wielded had to be magically enchanted.

That man was dangerous.

With the mace still in my hands I drew a large swing over the ground, lifting dirt and dust into the air and with the same momentum I smashed it straight into the head of the knight lying on the ground. My body did not produce enough force to actually kill the man off for good but at the very least he stopped moving.

Of course I would not linger in my success -not for too long-, that would be foolishly underestimating my opponents. I weaved forward, trying to avoid the third and still unwounded knight and the onslaught of mace swings he brought with him. But with my worn and torn body it was hard to avoid each and every of the whirling strikes and soon some managed to pepper my body, one really nasty one split my skull in two, that's how it felt at least.

I back and skid a short ways over the soft ground before I carefully fingered around my new wound. It was a large crack running straight down the middle of my skullcap, or rather my helmet. Blood leaked from the scissure and down my face, proving once again that the armaments cradling my body were still part of me.

The growing headache felt as if somebody was trying to crack my skull open with his bare hands, and it seems he was succeeding in his endeavour. I let my sharp teeth run over my tongue, cutting deep into the soft flesh until I felt another spray of blood filling my mouth, the pricking pain gave me some clarity at best, a small breather.

The archer had to be disposed off, the enhanced longbow too dangerous of a weapon, but I had no possible way or means to close the gap between us without getting shot to death. And even if I tanked a single hit it was unlikely that the warrior shielding the archer would let me pass without a decent fight. So either I would reach him bloodied and battered, a warrior turned pin cushion at worst, or my head would roll under the rippled claymore.

I gnashed my teeth under the dim prospect of either getting killed or willfully surrendering and turning into that Frederic's toy, and this time he won't leave me any kind of openning to escape from his clutches, surely not.

'That means... only death awaits...', I mused and steadied my resolve.

If I lose then I will die, I won't turn into somebodies slave, not again!

Lifting the mace in my hands I fling my hand forward with all the residual strength I could muster. Like a whip my arm cracks forward and sends the hammer blustering through the air with incredible speed. The knight before me narrowly dodged, his eyes too slow to keep up with my swing but his instincts are able to choreograph an adroid sidestep. The deadly projectile scratches against the armor, sparks spurted from the point of impact, but it hurriedly moves on, finding its target only a few paces away.

Wide-eyed the archer notices the deliberate but not so randomly thrown object move into his direction. Surely the warrior at his front needs to block this attack or the archer will be no more, meaning: Frederic has no one to protect him

My legs moved on their own, jumping atop the knight that managed to dodge the mace and using him as a springboard and then followed up by a rapid sprint. My body blurred, my arms flicked forward and likewise did my legs. I nearly tripped in the mad dash but it only fueled my ambition. To get closer to that pig, to rip his face off and then break each and every bone.

Not a moment before the hammer hit the corrugated sword and was masterfully parried I appeared before the still smiling Frederic. That idiot didn't think my strength would suffice for this distance and kept his guard low. I wonder what he might be thinking now, seeing the one he brought so much torment about to end his miserable existence. Surely I would get a good laugh out of it.

From my peripheral vision I saw the warrior with the claymore start shuting, with agape eyes he finally noticed the futility of his action. What good does it do if your comrade survives but the employer dies? And a noble at that. Execution should be the least of their worries.

This final and desperate attempt to regain my freedom is testimony of my tenacity and endurance, even if I die here I will die with a light heart!

I smiled at the thought. Now it would end.

But alas, that wasn't the end. That wasn't it at all.

Instead of feeling young Frederic's squishy flesh between my claws I only felt darkness. Well, pain first, then darkness.

I had forgotten the most important factor in this battle. The Paladin! An existence I won't be able to match even at my peak condition.

And now he had me, one hand gripping my neck like a stray cat. Oh the humilation!

Much less hear I hadn't even see the Paladin move! And that although he is equipped to the teeth with this abomination of a plate armor. It was a moving fortress, goddamn!

It made one wonder what it takes to reach such a level of strength, to be nigh unrivaled under the heavens! And what they had to leave behind to reach this summit... Was it their humanity? Their sanity? Sadly the Paladins mostly kept to themselves and rarely unfurled their enigmatic identities to anyone but their closest of friends. So could it be considered a honor to know this man's name although I will be made a slave once again? Of course not!

The last spark of hope I clung too was errased the moment the Paladin catched me. I doubted that I was even able in any way to hurt that bastard Frederic from the moment the Paladin decided to take him under his wing. Even if I had a knife put on his throat the Paladin would move quicker than I could end that wretch's life.

And here I thought I could escape. It would have been too good to be true to wake up, shake the drowsiness from my body and start a new day. To begin completely anew with my life. A wonderful, new beginning.

---------------------- Adrian POV:

Fast. Fast and strong.

That little demi-human runt was a prodigy in the art of combat! Able to incapacitate half a squad in just a few seconds. Genius, truly genius! I had heard tales of the Yu'Maha but that even their youngsters were this strong?! Unbelievable!

She is what? Barely ten? Just a greenhorn in the art of warfare and yet... and yet... At such a tender age I was barely able to finish my first clean set of practice swings!

That damned duke Voile and his despicable child. Had he not saved my life once I would end his whole house to get my hands on such a martial genius. Give or take ten to twenty years and she will easily surpass me in every field. What a shame, what shame indeed.

I couldn't let it show but it truly pained me as a fellow warrior to make this little, belligerent runt a slave. Recruit her as a human general of the Alliance and presto! We got the upper hand against the south again! This child could indeed be the final drop that could burst the barrel that is the tyrannical rule of the south. But no... the greed of one will often times not only affect a few but many.

With a heavy heart I cursed the little girl with complete immobility and loss of senses. Now unable to move or in any way alter reality with her magic I began putting on her slave chocker. A heavy instrument that renders the wearer unable to hurt or in any way disrespect its owner, the bane of autonomy for the unfortunate individual.

But the favor I owned had to be repaid and mabye, just maybe I will get a chance in the future to make this father and son pair pay for their wrongdoings. Though till then I hope this child behaves lest it wants to live a life of torment...

It didn't take long to wrap the collar around the thin neck of the girl, so thin even that I feared she would break under my rough touch and reluctantly I presented her to the Duke's son.

That knave was rubbing his hands together as if he was a child that found a new toy, my distaste for the man was only growing further. His eyes shone like dark candles and his smile was crooked and diabolic. Oh the horrors this child will have to go through, I wish you the best of luck in your tribulations; In all earnesty.

I was so invested in the gouging hatred towards the man and pity for the child that I hadn't noticde the man's flickering gaze change target. Instead of looking at the starving child gripped in his vile hands he stared into the forest, or more exactly, behind me.

Inside those eyes I saw a change. From the glee of having finally captured his prey it turned into confusion, then utter shock and surprisse and finally it downspiraled into abhorrent fear evident by the twisting of his face. His breathing stopped and from the sounds of it those of his men as well, no, that was not all. I strained my ears and noticed, the whole forest was silent, ghastly silent.

And before I had the chance to turn around I heard a confused mumble in a language and voice foreign to me. A soft word spoken in a low but lofty voice.

"Hello...?"

And before I knew it I was engulfed in a torrent of power unprecedented to this date, to this day and age! My knees quivered and my arms felt weak under the onslaught of comsic energies and how they swatted me to the ground. My stomach churned, my skin crawled, my hairs stood on end. And my guts were telling me: this is true power, this is true might, this is true authority unrivaled under and above the skies! 

It was might straight out of myth and legends. A might that should not exist in this realm. It was the power... of a god, a deity... 

an Arbiter of Power!