The moment Acheron made his decision, the world around him twisted and distorted, flooding his mind with indecipherable information. Dizziness overcame him, and then colours began to bloom in his vision as he regained his flesh. The colours and shapes sharpened until he could make out the night sky filled with brightly shining stars.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Acheron could feel his body, he could feel his heart beating and the ground beneath him. He could feel the breath leaving his lungs as he exhaled and the slight chill of the night, a small smile formed on his face, it was good to be back.
As Acheron’s senses returned, the sudden influx of information overwhelmed him. His head throbbed painfully as he struggled to process the barrage of stimuli. After what felt like an eternity of sensory deprivation, he found himself unaccustomed to the flood of data assaulting his mind.
He felt the cool breeze brushing against his skin, saw the stars twinkling in the night sky, heard the distant cries of battle and the clash of steel, and smelled the acrid smoke of burning wood.
Sitting bolt upright, his eyes darting around, Acheron quickly confirmed what was happening. Around Acheron, dark figures fought, sword against axe and spear against hammer, his scarcely illuminated surroundings caused shadows to elongate and distort turning the environment into a nightmarish scene.
Acheron remembered being warned that he would be reincarnated into the body of someone who had died in combat recently but looking at the tears in his chain armour from what seemed to be an axe, he didn’t realise it would be so recent. His body was perfectly healed as far as he could tell which gave him some relief.
The scent of smoke that Acheron could smell was coming from a line of huge granaries that had all been set alight, the sheer amount of grain that must have been in each was staggering to Acheron.
He had been reincarnated into the body of someone who had died on a cobbled path that led to the granaries, around them there were no other buildings, although Acheron could see what he thought to be a town or city in the distance. It was hard to tell in the night, only being able to see the light coming off of it.
As his eyes adjusted, Acheron began to make out more details of the fight that was occurring around him, and it caused his blood to boil. There were about 70 people fighting around Acheron and another twenty who were dead, with one side not seeming to have taken any casualties. The side that had already lost twenty men still had roughly forty men fighting, despite their higher numbers Acheron could see it was a losing battle.
The 40 people all wore full chain armour and were wielding sharp swords and spears all of them looking to be in pristine condition. Acheron immediately recognised them as soldiers of one of the dukes by the symbology on their armour. In the Free Confederation – the nation that Acheron had lived in – there were nine dukes who each controlled one district and worked together to manage the country.
If these soldiers were just normal soldiers trained by a duke, then they would be iron rankers – people with iron rank skills – focussed on combat, Acheron thought it likely that there would also be a couple captains who would be bronze rankers, in the force.
The 30 others that fought the duke’s soldiers were quite different to their opponents. Few had any armour, with those who were armoured only having leather protection, additionally their weapons looked rusted and brutal, with them mainly being war axes or great hammers. The most obvious characteristics of them though were of course their brown fur and tall stature.
Just looking at the bearkin had his mind flashing back to the moment he had seen his parents decapitated heads and had him seeing red.
From the looks of the battle, the bearkin had broken in and set fire to the granaries and were now trying to fight their way out, from the look of it they were likely to succeed as well. He had to admit, Acheron was surprised by their determination to keep fighting even when their death seemed guaranteed, especially as these bearkin were likely all bronze rankers focussed on combat, meaning they dwarfed the humans in power to a large degree. Acheron himself had only been able to kill one of the bearkin because he had three body enhancement skills and the element of surprise to help him.
Acheron, of course wasn’t going to keep sitting by and watching forever, grabbing a spear that had fallen beside him – it was no scythe, but he would make do with what he had – Acheron began running towards the bearkin.
He quickly realised a problem he hadn’t yet considered, the body he was in was shorter and slightly rounder than the one he had been born in, meaning that he would need time he didn’t have to familiarise himself with his new body. In a sudden moment of horror, Acheron opened his status, but sighed in relief when he saw it was the same as previously.
The position he had been reincarnated in was currently between the bearkin and the granaries, meaning that the bearkin were not yet aware of his presence, though he would be sure to change that.
As he ran, he activated [Berserker Rage], it increased his stamina usage but would allow him to move faster than otherwise besides, he would need the boost.
In only a couple of seconds he had reached the first bearkin who was currently fighting two soldiers using his war axe, he was faster and stronger than them but because there was two of them, he was struggling. Just before Acheron arrived, the bearkin managed to kick one of the soldiers away, leaving the other alone to face a much more powerful opponent.
The bearkin raised his arm for a mighty strike, when suddenly a sharp object speared into his neck, before coming out the other side. The bearkin collapsed, gargling blood as it tried to say something but was unable to.
The battle seemed to pause for a second as all saw the very first bearkin die, this was further punctuated by Acheron placing his foot on the back of the bearkin’s head and ripping his spear out before sneering, “enjoy hell, you filth.”
Roars of outrage resounded around the street, and the next second, every bearkin was charging straight for Acheron. The soldiers didn’t stand idly by, they used the opportunity to land hit after hit on the enraged bearkin.
Killing a single bearkin wasn’t enough to sway the battle in the odds of the soldiers, but it did show them that their enemies weren’t invincible and that they could be killed. This was a much-needed psychological boost that helped the soldiers fight with renewed vigour.
Acheron himself wasn’t worried, he didn’t fear the scum that charged towards him, no matter what happened next, he had already succeeded.
The first bearkin swung a horizontal axe strike at Acheron’s neck, he barely managed to duck in time before he impaled the bearkin on his spear, it tried to grapple him but was actually weaker than him, allowing Acheron to break its grip and dodge away from the next strike.
He quickly turned and ran back towards where most of the soldiers had gathered, running between men, and forcing the bearkin to engage the soldiers who had set up a more defensive position. At that moment, the bearkin could have easily escaped, as the soldiers were no longer blocking their retreat, however, escape was no longer in their minds. They needed to slay the one who had desecrated their friend.
Quickly blending into the group of soldiers, Acheron joined them in fighting against the bearkin who were now recklessly throwing themselves at the men. The bearkin were not fighting to survive but to make sure all the soldiers died, and it showed.
They did not dodge or parry, but rather swung powerful arcs that tore through the soldiers, their iron rank sword or spear proficiency not enough to protect them from the force of the blow.
A couple more bearkin fell, with Acheron doing his fair share of fighting, there was only twelve humans left and all knew that this was their end. Acheron himself was at the forefront, having had his spear break near the tip he was now wielding two spear tips like daggers. He darted in, opening large holes in the sides of a bearkin before pushing off of them as they tried to split his torso.
The only reason he was alive at that moment was because they weren’t fighting with technique, but rather just relied on their strength and speed. If the bearkin hadn’t been enraged, then Acheron would have died several times over. Even so, he had racked up a fair few injuries, and could feel himself getting lightheaded from blood loss. But Acheron wasn’t going to let himself go without taking as many bearkin with him as he could.
He was covered in blood, both his own and his enemies and his arms felt like lead, the soldiers pressed together tighter, trying to defend each other’s sides.
One man glanced at Acheron as the bumped into each other, before grinning “That was a right nice one killing that first bearkin, we might die here, but at least I’ll die knowing we took down a couple of those pricks.”
A bloody grin stretched out on Acheron’s face to join the other man’s “I wasn’t going to let them get away without paying!” Acheron dodged a blow and made a quick slash across the torso of a bearkin. “But tell me, why do you all fight even when your death is certain?” It was something that had bothered Acheron ever since first seeing the soldiers fighting and he was interested to learn why.
“Well, isn’t it the same for you? Don’t we all fight to punish them for what they have done to the confederation?”
“You mean how they raid people’s houses? I still wouldn’t think that, that was enough to make people give up their lives.” Acheron said, feeling slightly confused, although to be fair that had been enough for him to give up on his life.
“Raiding people’s houses? What are you on about?” The soldier asked quizzically as a soldier’s head was taken off its shoulders to his right. “I’m talking about how they’ve raided and set alight tens of granaries, I’m talking about how they’re starving our people with their raids!”
‘What?’ Acheron had never heard of them doing such a thing, he had only heard of them raiding some homes. Granted, the Orcon district wasn’t very connected to the other districts due to it being the closest land to where the bearkin lived and it was quite self-sufficient, so it was possible such news hadn’t reached the villages yet.
The thought of people starving because of the bearkin burning down granaries made him even happier to be fighting them, “Then how about we show them they made a mistake coming here.”
“I like the sound of that.”
With a roar, both Acheron and the soldier threw themselves at the bearkin with a burst of defiance, Acheron threw his makeshift daggers towards the head of a bearkin before getting in close with another and wrestling the war axe from their hands.
The other soldier fought valiantly, allowing himself to be hit by a great hammer so that he could impale the bearkin on his sword. Even as his right arm hung limply from his side, he pulled out a dagger from his belt and sliced at the next bearkin.
Acheron swung his new axe with a ferocity that cleaved through anything in its path, Bearkin falling one after another under his relentless assault. As he fought, he absorbed axe strikes and hammer blows to his torso but didn’t flinch. He felt his soul being tugged from his body, but he resisted. His body began to falter, ignoring his commands, but he pushed through. He wasn’t done yet.
Pain, exhaustion, and distractions faded from his mind, leaving only a singular focus: vengeance. The bearkin had killed his parents, and he would make them pay. His life was inconsequential; he would always return. But these bearkin might not cross his path again, so he had to ensure they received their due punishment.
With a final, powerful swing, his axe collided with a war hammer, causing the axe to shatter, leaving him unarmed. Undeterred, Acheron continued his assault with punches and kicks, determined to bring down every last bearkin.
[New skill acquired
Frenzied Assault (triggered) (Uncommon) – Iron]
A screen appeared before Acheron, causing him to pause, but before he could even comprehend it a blow from an axe slammed into his head, shearing off bone and slicing brain. Previously he had managed to avoid all such blows that would result in immediate death, but his hesitation meant he wasn’t in a position to dodge.
The blow killed Acheron instantly. Once again, his vision started going dark before it stopped and returned to normal. He was once again trapped in his body as an observer, waiting to be transported back to the administrator nucleus.
The final few soldiers were cut down mercilessly, the bearkin were outraged that they had lost eleven people in their attack when they shouldn’t have had any casualties against such weak people.
Acheron had fell facing the burning granaries and so was forced to watch as the fire roared within them, sending up pillars of light and smoke that could be seen for tens of kilometres.
A familiar system message appeared.
[Transporting (Acheron Cadell) to Administrator nucleus #797836]
The abyss returned, Acheron’s mind fragmented, his thoughts becoming disjointed, erratic. Time stood still and yet flew by, making him feel as though he had lived an eternity in a single moment. The sensation was disorienting, a paradox of timelessness and rapid passage.
But that was not the end of it, to his dismay, the void was once again torn asunder, as the reality where the white room resided began to leak through. He had hoped that, if he had to endure this again, he would fare better, having been more mentally prepared. But luck was not on his side. Pain engulfed his mind, a relentless force that threatened to shatter his sanity. He was thrown into a pitched battle, struggling to hold his mind together against the titanic waves of agony that raged through his soul.
Every inch of his being screamed in protest as he fought to maintain his grip on reality. The pain was not physical; it was a deep, soul-crushing anguish that tore at the very fabric of his existence.
Acheron’s senses were assaulted by the overwhelming brightness and the searing pain. His vision blurred, and his thoughts became a chaotic storm. He could feel his consciousness slipping, the edges of his mind fraying under the relentless onslaught. Yet, amidst the turmoil, a flicker of determination burned within him. He had faced this before and survived. He would do so again.
With every ounce of willpower, he pushed back against the pain, forcing himself to focus. He visualized the faces of his parents, drawing strength from their memory. The battle within his mind was fierce, each wave of pain met with a surge of defiance.
As the calamity continued, Acheron’s resolve only grew stronger. He would endure this trial, no matter the cost. This torment was just one more obstacle in his path of vengeance, one more challenge to overcome. And overcome them he would, for he was Acheron Cadell, and his spirit was unbreakable.
[(Acheron Cadell) has been transported to Administrator nucleus #797836]
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
[Calculating Growth]
Once again, his surroundings stilled and he found himself in the white room, his mind was actually in better condition than last time despite the fact that his preparedness didn’t seem to help. He certainly appreciated a swifter recovery, he was still quite exhausted from the tribulation he had just experienced and needed some time to recover mentally.
The system screens seemed to appear with less time in between them compared to the previous time which he attributed to that being his first time and it needing to initialise.
Once again, he received a breakdown of the Credits he had earnt, though it was a much smaller amount.
[Rebirth Credits:
Current Number Held - 69
Credits earned for duration of cycle - 0
Duration of cycle = 0 years
Credits earned for skills acquired - 60
Uncommon
Frenzied Assault (triggered) - Iron = 60
Credits earned for improving skills - 0
Total Credits - 129]
Acheron felt pleased when he saw his new skill [Frenzied Assault], it was another offensive uncommon skill, that when triggered would provide much higher force and speed to his attacks until he dodged or blocked an attack. The system didn’t provide explanations to skills as no one needed them, when you got a skill, you also got an instinctual understanding of what it would do.
His new skill went to show just how much of a difference putting your life on the line made in getting new skills, though it was also proof of how much enhancing his affinity was helping. Acheron had previously had a higher affinity in his domestic type skills but had never gotten a skill that was even above common rarity, however in less than twenty-four hours Acheron had gotten two uncommon skills by being willing to lose his life.
By looking at the screen Acheron noticed that Credits did indeed remain after his cycle ended, which was pleasant as it meant he could save up for upgrades, rather than need to spend all his Credits each time.
He only had 129 Credits which wasn’t enough to upgrade his offensive or defensive skills, so he decided not to spend them on anything too costly as he still thought focussing on one area would be better.
Though after some time he decided to improve his affinity from none to very low in mental magic and support skills. He was pretty sure that the 3 Credits it cost him to do that wouldn’t matter much and it meant there was a slight chance he could get those skills now which could be helpful.
[Affinity to all Mental skills has improved from None to Very Low]
[Affinity to all Magic skills has improved from None to Very Low]
[Affinity to all Support skills has improved from None to Very Low]
[Total Credits - 126]
Having done everything, he thought he needed to, Acheron once again asked to leave. ‘I’m done everything, can I go?’
[Reincarnation Cooldown: 30 days 20 hours 57 minutes 13 seconds]
‘Right the cooldown, I forgot about that,’ Acheron sighed. After seeing the bearkin attacking the granaries and hearing about how they had been doing worse things than just pillaging people’s homes he was even more eager to be reincarnated and fight them.
‘But why have three hours already gone by? I haven’t been here that long I don’t think, unless it counts my time spent alive as part of the cooldown? If that’s the case that would be awesome, so long as I survive for a month, I will be able to reincarnate instantly!’ If his guess was right, then that was even more reason not to die immediately.
Having nothing to do he went over in his mind what he had done in that cycle, it wasn’t very much, just fighting some bearkin and getting an uncommon skill. As he thought about what the soldier that he had spoken to told him, the words of somebody else came to his mind, that of the bearkin who had first killed him. His mind hadn’t been in the best situation since and so it had kind of slipped his mind, but now that he was forced to take some time to rest and wait, it came to the forefront.
The words were a bit hazy in his memory, but he had plenty of time to recall them.
Setting his mind to the task of remembering exactly what the bearkin had said, Acheron’s focus sharpened. He had ample practice going through his memories, having had to do something similar when the calamity was tearing him apart so as to avoid his identity being lost forever.
Slowly the time ticked down, with Acheron getting closer and closer to putting all the pieces back together. He was patient and didn’t try to rush himself, intent on doing the job right instead of quickly, even so he still managed to finish within the third day of waiting.
He was relatively confident that he had remembered everything but had no way of double checking.
From his memory he was pretty sure the bearkin had said: ‘I don’t care, we have one less soldier for Arzil, let’s hope he doesn’t decide they need more people, otherwise he might just send us to Ninethorn. Remember, only a few more raids and the confederation should be at a tipping point, then there’ll be the big finale.’
He hadn’t said much, but as Acheron reflected on it and compared it to what the soldier had told him and what he knew, it painted a frightening picture.
From the sounds of it, soldiers were being sent to a place called Ninethorn, this was being done for someone called Arzil, who Acheron guessed could be a general or other important figure. The bearkin believed that they only needed to raid the confederation a couple more times for them to be at a tipping point, and if Acheron’s guess was right then that tipping point would be starvation across the whole or a large chunk of the Free confederation. At that point there would be a big finale, it seemed to Acheron pretty obvious that this big finale would be an invasion by the soldiers that were being sent to Ninethorn.
As for why the bearkin would want to invade the Free confederation? Well, Acheron wasn’t so sure about this as there could be many reasons, though they did have a slight grudge against the confederation. After repelling the forces of the empire, the confederation had decided that they wanted more land and so had turned their eyes to the land on the coast that was held by the bearkin. The bearkin had been forced out of the land, not through violence but rather the threat of it.
The new land had then been given a duke to rule over it, who had been selected from among the powerful knights that had fought for the confederation, taking the number of dukes in the confederation from eight to nine, and the land had been named Orcon district.
Knowing what was likely happening in their country at that very moment made Acheron feel like he was holding a hot coal, he badly wanted to warn the dukes and yet was stuck inside the administrator nexus for another 28 days. Having no clue on the timescale the bearkin were operating added to his desire for the cooldown to be over at that instant. By the time the cooldown ended the confederation could have reached a tipping point, or nothing else might have happened. Though if he was truthful Acheron was unsure if him warning the dukes would matter anyway.
The Free confederation had initially formed when the leader of one of the many cities scattered across their continent of Eralia began amassing a large army and conquering other cities. This had been thousands of years ago and back then the leaders of many free cities had decided to join together to form a nation that could stand against the emperor and his armies. Even back then the few historical texts that existed said that the relationship between the dukes was tenuous at best.
Nowadays the dukes rarely convened to make decisions about the country and even more rarely came to an agreement. That meant the districts on the coast of the confederation closest to the land the bearkin came from including the Orcon district would be forced to fight an army of bearkin without reinforcements or even preparation. Acheron knew that if that happened it would be a slaughter, and that if he wanted to prevent it, he would need to use every tool available to him, but he would prevail.
He would discover the location of Ninethorn and kill every bearkin he encountered. No, he wouldn’t just kill them, death was too merciful; he would ensure they suffered for what they had taken from him. Then, he would hunt down the man named Arzil, punishing him in such a way that stories would be told of the horrors that had been wrought on him for decades to come.
First, he just needed to wait for this interminable cooldown to end. Which was apparently not very easy for Acheron, he was used to always being up and doing things, where even if he was waiting for one thing, he would work on another. But here he couldn’t do anything and was forced to just sit and wait, it made him feel quite tense which in turn made the time seem to pass even slower.
He found the more time he spent in the white room the more it began to feel like a prison and the more desperate he became to escape. Time moved sluggishly, giving Acheron plenty of time to think but nothing to think about, apart from reincarnating and getting stronger.
…………
After 28 days, Acheron was beyond weary of the white room. Initially, he had thought it a small price to pay for reincarnation, but now he wasn’t so certain. Thirty days of absolute nothingness—no sight, no smell, no sound, no touch—left him with only his thoughts to confirm he was still alive. The sheer monotony was almost hellish.
In a moment of weakness, he had spent another 60 Credits to bring his six Very Low affinities to Low for 10 Credits each.
[Affinity to all Crafting skills has improved from Very Low to Low]
[Affinity to all Support skills has improved from Very Low to Low]
[Affinity to all Mental skills has improved from Very Low to Low]
[Affinity to all Magic skills has improved from Very Low to Low]
[Affinity to all Miscellaneous skills has improved from Very Low to Low]
[Total Credits - 66]
To upgrade any of his affinities now cost at least 100 Credits meaning there wasn’t anything he could spend his leftover Credits on. Otherwise, he likely would have spent it on more stuff.
Before finally leaving his prison, Acheron pulled up his status.
[Name: Acheron Cadell
Race: Human
Number of Cycles: 2
Skills:
Uncommon
Berserker Rage (triggered) – Iron
Frenzied Assault (triggered) – Iron
Common
Weeding (passive) - Bronze
Basic Planting (passive) - Iron
Basic Nurturing (passive) - Iron
Basic Harvesting (passive) - Iron
Physical Exertion (passive) - Iron
Upper Body Strength (passive) - Iron
Scythe Proficiency (passive) – Iron
Administrator Enhancements:
Skill Affinity
Offensive – Mid
Defensive – Mid
Crafting – Low
Support – Low
Mental – Low
Magic – Low
Miscellaneous – Low
Skill Potency
Offensive – x1.1
Domestic – x1.1
Defensive – x1.1]
It was pretty good, but Acheron wasn’t going for good, nor was he going for great. When he could reincarnate endlessly, where else should he aim but for perfection?
[(Acheron Cadell) Will leave Administrator nucleus #797836 - Yes/No]
‘Yes’
Once again, his world twisted and blurred, before colours began to bleed into his vision as his senses returned, becoming sharper each second.
Acheron wasn’t laying on his back like last time, but rather seemed to be on his feet, leaning on something that was pressing into his torso. Opening his eyes, he was greeted by the shocking sight of a spear having penetrated his stomach. Strangely, he felt no pain. This was unexpected, especially since he had been assured that the body, he reincarnated into would be fully healed, causing him to assume that he would appear in an undamaged body.
Standing up fully and pulling the spear out Acheron watched as the flesh healed near instantly, putting him in a perfect condition. Ready to face whatever had killed the first inhabitant of his body, he quickly looked around at his surroundings.
He was standing in a shady clearing, that had been made into a full campsite, with a fire in the middle and tents scattered around. Some things of note in the clearing were four large cages that each held a person except for one that held two, the captives looked to have been quite roughly treated and were mainly young people. Another thing was the thirteen, armed people scattered throughout the camp that were all looking at Acheron with wide, fearful eyes.
One person in particular seemed quite afraid, they were standing right in front of Acheron, and he presumed they were the one to kill the person whose body he now inhabited.
Though it had been a quick look, Acheron immediately had an idea of the situation, if not why he had been killed. He was currently standing in a bandit camp and these bandits in particular seemed to be involved in a lucrative and highly illegal practice. Slavery.
In the Free confederation slavery was completely illegal, with the dukes often conducting investigations to ensure it wasn’t happening. However, across the Free confederation’s border was the empire and there it was completely legal, meaning that it was likely these slavers were planning on selling these people across the border if they weren’t already in the empire.
Acheron himself was quite against the practice and wasn’t against killing the slavers that stood before him. It was unlikely any of them would be bronze rankers in a combat-based skill and with his two uncommon skills he should be able to take them.
Before Acheron could move, the man who was standing before him spoke, “W-what are you? You should be dead!”
Acheron just smiled, “He is dead. You’ve got me now.” Mentally, Acheron began preparing himself to fight the thirteen bandits, he would need to kill as many as he could quickly to prevent them overwhelming him, and maybe he could use fear to his advantage.
The people around the camp looked at him uncertainly, so he moved first.
Acheron burst forwards, aiming to plunge his spear into the stomach of the man in front of him, the man looked shocked but couldn’t react in time as it pierced his body.
Twelve to go.
Acheron didn’t waste a moment, immediately letting go of the spear, he picked up a sword that was lying by his feet and charging at the next person. They were wielding a short sword in one hand and a crudely made wooden shield in the other. Before they had a chance to swing at Acheron he begun a relentless flurry of attacks towards them. Each strike was empowered by his [Upper Body Strength], [Berserker Rage], and [Frenzied Assault] skills, as well as his 10% increase to the potency of offensive skills.
This was to say that it was far too much for the man to defend against let alone fight and a sword strike quickly slipped through his guard, decapitating him.
Eleven.
Acheron stood over the decapitated body, his eyes scanning the remaining eleven bandits. They hesitated for a moment, clearly unnerved by the ease with which he had dispatched their comrades.
A single bandit close by tried to swing at him, Acheron didn’t dodge but rather countered the swing with his own sword, causing the sword in the bandits hand to be thrown away. His next lunge led to his sword slicing right through the bandits throat.
Ten.
“We can take him!” one foolhardy bandit yelled “We just need to all attack him at once!”
Acheron just shook his head, he wasn’t going to let some bandits kill him, though they didn’t know that.
The bandits began slowly closing in on him, wary of being the first one to enter Acheron’s range. As they closed in on him Acheron’s mind sharpened, his senses heightened as even more adrenaline was pumped into his blood. His life might not be on the line but his sanity certainly was, if he died now he very well could go insane from having to endure another month of nothing.
Eventually a bandit gained the confidence to attack Acheron. The bandit lunged at him with a dagger, but Acheron sidestepped effortlessly, bringing his sword down in a swift arc that cleaved through the bandit’s arm and chest. The man screamed in pain, but he was already out of Acheron’s mind.
Nine.
Two more bandits closed in from either side. Acheron spun, using the momentum to deliver a powerful kick to one bandit’s knee, shattering it with a sickening crunch. The other bandit swung a mace at his head, but Acheron ducked and countered with an upward slash that opened the bandit’s throat.
Eight.
Seven.
The remaining bandits circled him warily, their initial bravado replaced by fear. Acheron could see the uncertainty in their eyes, and wasn’t surprised when one bandit turned to run. Before he could take more than three steps, Acheron had reached him, his blade cleanly slicing through one leg. Once he was on the ground, Acheron finished him off by stomping on his throat.
Six.
The last six bandits having watched the last one be taken out knew that retreat was not an option, they would have to win here or die trying. They rushed at him from all sides, weapons raised. Acheron tightened his grip on his sword, his eyes darting between his attackers.
One bandit swung a heavy axe at Acheron’s head. He ducked just in time, feeling the rush of air as the axe passed over him. He countered with a swift slash to the bandit’s leg, causing him to stumble and fall, though he wasn’t dead.
Bandits came at him from the left and right. Acheron parried a sword thrust from the left, but the bandit on the right managed to land a shallow cut on his arm. Ignoring the pain, Acheron spun trying to slash the bandit with his sword, they anticipated it moved out of his range. This created an opening that another, bandit used, trying to impale him on a spear.
Acheron barely avoided being skewered, but still being forced to take a cut on his thigh. He rapidly retreated, trying to stop the momentum the bandits were gaining in the fight, they didn’t let up though and he was forced to block as many attacks as he could with his sword. Even so, Acheron still took a lot of smaller cuts and wounds.
Backpedalling, Acheron knew he needed to go back on the offensive or he would die. Knowing this Acheron swung a wild swing to throw the bandits attacks off course before charging forwards towards the bandits.
He narrowly dodged a spear and finally managed to get an attack off, lunging forwards and driving his sword into the right pec of a bandit.
Five.
Seeing movement from the corner of his eye, Acheron saw a bandit wielding a two-handed hammer with a large head pulling his arms back for a mighty swing. Alarmed, Acheron tried to dodge out of the way of the unwieldy weapon’s path, however, the bandit whose leg he had cut off grabbed onto his leg, slowing him down enough that he couldn’t move away in time. He was forced to take the blow to his side, in an attempt to minimise the damage, he lifted his arm and braced his body.
The hammer head collided with Acheron’s body, but he pushed against it, resisting its force, he felt his ribs crack but didn’t relent, not willing to let the hammer cave his side in.
[New skill acquired
Durable body (passive) (common) - Iron
The force of the hammer dispersed against his body, doing no more than breaking a couple ribs. Immediately Acheron retaliated against the bandit on the ground, stabbing his sword downwards straight into their head.
Four.
He grabbed the head of the hammer which the bandit had yet to lift back up and pulled the bandit right to him. As his momentum pulled him forwards, Acheron’s fist crashed into his head, doing severe brain damage at the least.
Three.
The remaining three bandits though wary, pressed their advantage, sensing that Acheron was starting to tire. One of them managed to slice his thigh, drawing blood, though it seemed shallower than it should be. Acheron gritted his teeth, refusing to let the pain slow him down.
With a roar, Acheron launched himself at the nearest bandit, his sword a blur of motion. He struck with relentless force, each blow empowered by his [Upper Body Strength] and [Berserker Rage] skills. The bandit’s defences crumbled, and Acheron’s sword found its mark, cutting him down.
Two.
The bandits hesitated, fear evident in their eyes. Acheron didn’t give them a chance to regroup. He charged at them, his movements fuelled by adrenaline and rage. He took another shallow wound to his side but managed to disarm one bandit and deliver a fatal blow to the other.
One.
The final bandit, now weapon less and terrified, tried to flee. Acheron picked up the spear of a now dead bandit and threw it towards the fleeing bandit, it shot through the air before slamming into the bandit’s calf, causing them to fall to the ground. He was quickly finished off by Acheron.
Zero.
Acheron stood amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. Blood dripped from his wounds, but he knew they were not life-threatening. He took a moment to catch his breath, then turned his attention to the captives in the cages.
He approached the cages and after seeing that they were locked began searching the bandit’s bodies for a key. It took a little while, but he eventually found a ring of keys that were only slightly covered in blood.
The captives watched Acheron warily as he moved to free them from their cages. He wasn’t surprised by their lack of warmth, as watching someone butcher thirteen people without remorse was probably not very good at building trust. Even if those thirteen people had been their jailors.
After unlocking their cages Acheron stepped back to create some space and held his hands up reassuringly. “I’m not going to hurt you, you’re all free to go.”
They looked at him with a mix of suspicion and hope, with one woman, the oldest of all the people in the cages, looking at him furiously.
“Do you think we’re just gonna forget that you helped catch us? Do you think we’re gonna forget what you did to our families? You killed my husband!” The woman sobbed the last sentence though it was still filled with malice.
Acheron grimaced, there wasn’t really any point in telling them that he wasn’t actually the one who had done those horrible things as they wouldn’t believe him. He would just have to help them how he could, and hopefully get some information from them that could help him.
“I know, What I’ve done is horrible and I’m sorry for that, but I’m trying to be better. There should be food and money somewhere in the camp and you are all welcome to it. I’m going to leave now, but before I go, have any of you ever heard of a place called Ninethorn?”
Looking around at each person they each shook their head, with the older woman ignoring him until he kept waiting for her answer. “Well then, do any of you know the direction towards the nearest city?”
This time there were a couple nods so he focused on a young man, “Can you tell me the directions to it?”
The young man looked up into Acheron’s eyes and clenched his jaw, “go to hell, I’m not telling you anything!”
Acheron nodded, he wasn’t going to force them to do anything and so turned to go. He didn’t know where he even was and so chose to go a random direction into the forest, however just as he reached the edge of the clearing a voice called out to him.
“Wait! Mister! If you’re heading to Ultu I can show you the way, so long as you’ll keep us safe.”
Acheron looked back surprised, he hadn’t thought anyone would have helped him after how the previous inhabitant of his body had treated them and yet a young woman maybe even girl had decided to trust him. Standing alongside her was an even younger boy who, by the same red hair he guessed to be her brother.
“Are you sure?” Acheron asked astonishedly “After what I’ve done you really shouldn’t trust me.”
“It is Kaiya’s will that everyone should get a second chance, no matter what, so why shouldn’t I give you a second chance?”
Kaiya was the sovereign of forgiveness, probably the one Acheron respected the most as she had no promise about only forgiving those who were worthy, but rather she offered forgiveness to anyone. Some scoffed at her for this, but Acheron saw it as better than only protecting those who you deemed worthy.
Kaiya was by far the least popular figure in the religion of the six sovereigns for the same reason as she was the one he respected most. People didn’t see being chosen by her as anything special, whereas being chosen by one of the other sovereigns and being given jurisdiction by them was a rare and special event. Additionally, Kaiya didn’t really perform miracles like the other sovereigns, rather she offered safety and healing to anyone who sought her.
“Thank you”, at that moment Acheron truly meant his words, he had been living in pain and anger for the past month, having someone not judge him even after him doing terrible things felt like a blade cutting right through his pain and fury. “My name Is Acheron, Acheron Cadell.”
The girl smiled, “I’m Ash Clarke and this is my younger brother Leo Clarke.”