“-Here’s the showers. Be quick, but be thorough. There’s shampoo and conditioner over there.” The showers were of the several kind. The floor was covered in beige tiles and rust-bitten chalk. Although Kreig no longer knew how to use shampoo or conditioner, he went over and grabbed two bottles anyways.
And then, he took a shower. Let the warm water wash over him rhythmically. Wash off the grime and dirt that had stuck to him like muddy memories of the past. Fifty years. The blood in his hair, the dirt in the grooves of his rigid body… He had to scrub at a few parts to really get it off, and when he used the shampoo to remove smells as well… He had never felt cleaner. Not in 130 years. Like a newly-born baby, warm and safe and good. The tension in his muscles seemed to melt off and seep down into the drain. Gone.
And when he stepped out of the shower, dried off on a towel officer Jenkins had reluctantly handed him, dressed up in the clean jumpsuit…
He was new. Fresh.
As if everything that had happened was just gone. It wasn’t gone, he knew that, but all of a sudden… it sure felt like it had.
The interrogating offer took a look at his watch and noted that they would arrive shortly. Kreig nodded, almost completely out of it. For some reason, he really just wanted to lie down. This new clothing felt light. Light and comfortable. Sleeping would probably feel nice. Since he had Warrior’s Breath, the evolved version of the skill Stamina, he no longer needed sleep. But even then, that didn’t mean he couldn’t sleep at all.
And right now… he really wanted to.
He was led through the halls again, through winding corridors and doors that he had to hunch to go through. And, finally, he was outside again. He liked seeing the sky. It was blue, and he really liked that. And in the middle of that blue, blue sky, something approached.
It hummed like the melody of a massive cricket. A helicopter. That’s what it was. Rather large, too. As soon as it came close enough to the ground, a man wearing a full set of plate-armour jumped out of it, landing with a clang and a rustle. He flicked the visor of his helmet open, revealing the face of a rather young, gravely confident man. His eyes landed on Kreig before turning to meet the interrogating officer. “-This the guy, sergeant?”
Human, Level 343
The interrogating officer didn’t hesitate to hand Kreig over to who Kreig could only assume to be a Fighter of high class. After all, though his level wasn’t much when compared to Great Beasts like Wyverns or even Two-Legged Drakes, compared to almost every other human, he had a rather robust level. The man accepted Kreig, and somehow, he didn’t seem frightened in the least.
He looked like a man posing with a tiger, full of vapid confidence.
Soon, several other Fighters with levels above 100 (though nobody in the 300 range) stepped out of the helicopter, likely to escort Kreig wherever they were going. Why, Kreig hadn’t felt this important since there was an international manhunt out for his head.
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The 300-levelled Fighter handed Kreig over to another Fighter who led him onto the loud helicopter while he went over to chat with the interrogating officer. Apparently, going by what Kreig could hear, it was mostly a brief summary of who Kreig was, what not to do and who to hand him to once they got to the Other Island, whatever that was. After hearing the interrogating officer (or, as the 300-levelled Fighter called him, “sergeant”) say for the third time that messing with Kreig would be a death sentence, Kreig couldn’t bother listening to it anymore and brought his focus back on the helicopter.
It was very high-tech. Filled with things on the walls and people with big guns and soldiers and, most importantly, 100+ levelled Fighters. Was he really that important? Possibly. Though, since he had no intention on being a bother, it really wasn’t needed.
They guided him to sit in a seat fastened to the wall, and the second he did, they chained his specially strengthened cuffs to the ground. He didn’t mind much, but he really would have liked some freedom. Not holding his sword or shield… He felt naked. Hung out. Empty. He was confident in his hand-to-hand skills, but as a paladin, his greatest strength always laid in his use of a sword and shield.
The 300-levelled Fighter said goodbye to the Sergeant (?), entered the helicopter and shouted for the pilot to lift off. Then he strode up to Kraig and sat down in the empty seat right next to him.
“Hi there. Big guy. Fella down there told me your name is Kreig?” he said, leaning in far closer than Kreig was comfortable with. Even then, he didn’t respond. For some reason, he felt like responding to that question would only make the situation worse. Not that it wasn’t already bad. The last time he’d been this high up in the air was when he’d hopped on that arrogant dragon’s back while it took to flight… “It is, isn’t it? See, the funny thing is, my name is actually Craig! So, there can only be one. Y’see where I’m going with this?”
Now Kreig turned to Craig. He had strangled people before. If he didn’t put that much strength in, he could surely restrain himself from snapping the guy’s neck.
“Hey, hey! It was a joke! Geez, you really don’t have a sense of humour, huh? See, the sergeant went and told me not to stir up anything with you since you’re some sort of dangerous guy, but you really don’t look like it. Honestly, you look like the kind of guy who’d go around spouting about the power of friendship, hah!” Craig babbled. Kreig could feel himself being lulled to sleep by the drone of Craig’s loud, grating voice.
“Um, Craig, maybe you shouldn’t tease it?” a cloak-clad girl sitting just across Kreig and Craig said, hunching her back shyly. Kraig agreed fully. He didn’t like being teased.
“Huh? Nah, nah! We got two hours of flight! If I don’t get to tase someone I’ll just pick a fight instead!” Craig said, ending his little statement with a throaty laugh, the kind you’d expect from a larger man than Craig. “Hey, Mr Big-And-Scary, wouldn’t you like to hear what happened to your equipment?” Now that got Kreig’s attention. “-Thought so! See, they got a bunch of guys in there, but nobody could lift the thing. Not even a glove! So they’re gonna get a bunch of high-level Fighters to lift it, but even then they doubt they’ll be able to get it far.”
...Alright. As long as Kreig would be able to make use of them again, he was happy. Well, maybe not make use of, more like see. After all, hopefully, he wouldn’t need his armour any longer. He just wanted it for nostalgic purposes.
“Ah, but they might also try to melt it down to see what it’s made of.” The sheer amount of killing intent that exploded from Kreig in that moment was enough to make even Craig a bit woozy. “N-, not that they’ll actually do it! They’re just considering it! Relax, dude!”
After a few seconds of calming himself down, Kreig was indeed able to relax.
“Gee. I’m not sure if you’re fun to talk to or not. Like, you barely react. Or, I mean, you do react, but not by speaking. Mighty uncool of you.”
Maybe if he ignored Craig he’d stop talking.
“...Do you think I’ll stop talking if you keep ignoring me? Ohohohoh, not so! As my mother can attest to, that is not the case, not at all!”
Shoot.
Two hours of this. The duration of which Craig spent 90% talking. Talking and talking and talking. Kreig just wanted to bury his face in his hands, but if he made such a movement he’d snap his chains and be a bother to everyone. So, all he could do was sit wide-legged and stare out of the window on the other side of the helicopter. Watch how the land turned to sea until, after two hours, he could see land again.
It was a little splotch of grey. Just a grey island, like a large fortress. It wasn’t that big once they got close to it, hardly larger than the Royal Palace of the Empire or even the Grand Dom of the theocracy.
...Still, it was their destination.