Chapter 3 – Connecting souls
“Ughh...they left” - it was a brief moment and some weaker demons appeared soon after, but it changed my life dramatically.
Still heavily breathing I was recounting the past 31k deaths I had just experienced.
I mumbled a prayer:
“Mother, be well; father, be well; brothers and sisters, be well...I pray for your happiness. I pray for the lost ones in here. Let their loved ones find happiness...” - I chocked on the next words I said:
“L-let their sins be mine and grant them salvation...”
I knew it was a foolish thought and I damned myself for voicing it. Nobody can shoulder the sins of others. I am no Son of God. That sentence let me feel ashamed of myself. Their pain is endless yet it does more harm to think this way. Taking over their sins for them would be akin to robbing them of their humanity.
It would be a far greater pain to let them suffer the loss of their human nature. I understood this because physical pain means nothing compared to true agony. Everyone has to shoulder their own sins and the comfort of the body is not something that could ever outweigh this.
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The after-effect of the demon's axe was still noticeable and I realized that during the last two days I was completely concentrated on Lord Ver 'do San. In an attempt to regain my former field of vision I began to count the chain links one by one, starting with the ones around my legs and then going up to my left arm, following it's path until it started to envelop the arm of the soul next to me. Counting every chain link was impossible because I couldn't see them all. Nevertheless I still continued with the task. From her right arm the chain would lead down to her leg, enwrap it three times and then go up towards her neck again.
I was not able to proceed with the exercise to that point. She was looking at me. Our eyes met and it was not by accident. There was no dullness visible in them like before. She had a clear gaze and was unmistakably focusing on me.
That was the first time I had connected to another soul. We simply looked each other in the eyes, both frightened at this sudden exchange not knowing what might happen next.
That Ver 'do San made a mistake. He was so immersed with his guinea pig (me) for two days that he completely forgot about the others. That gave her enough room to collect her thoughts.
Her eyes conveyed understanding (as probably did mine, too), sorrow and...gratitude?
I looked away in shame.
[Why are you thanking me? It can't be because I took on the torture of the last two days for you?]
I moved my eyes up to meet her gaze which was still upon me. Looking into her clear grey eyes I was once again forced to look down in shame. This time because I realized that I had misjudged her. There were tears in her eyes
[Why are you crying? No. It isn't because you are thankful for me taking your place.] These eyes didn't belong to such a petty person.
[Ahhh...I understand. Thank you for being here. You are...I am not alone any longer. What is this? I am crying, too? Is it because I don't have to endure it by myself anymore? No...]
I saw the sorrow in her eyes.
[So that's what's forcing the tears out of my eyes. Those tears, you are shedding them for me, aren't you? Do my eyes look the same way as yours, so full of sadness? Most likely they do.]
“Th-thank you.”
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Her POV
I was born as the sole heir to the squire of the mid-sized village Bruna in the Serota Principality. It is a weak little country in the Original Demon Continent and probably the only place there that uses human feudal lords in it's ranks. Our liege was just that kind of eccentric person.
My father gained this title as thanks for his achievements as an adventurer after successfully finishing an S-Ranked Quest for the Prince of Serota. Naturally, he was a loyal vassal and when a large monster incursion threatened our southern border he followed the marching order of our sovereign without hesitation.
I was to act in his stead during his absence. There were no concerns regarding my political abilities, though he was still somewhat anxious. With nearly 21 years of age I had already to deal with the gossip that I was still unmarried. Father wanted cute little grandchildren. With 15 you were eligible for marriage.
Being a human noble in the sphere of influence of demons, we had to adhere to some rules. It wasn't allowed for us to found a dynasty. The Prince was good friends with father and also showed concern for our situation, was even willing to bend the rules for us, but father didn't want to trouble him because the demon-race lords from the neighbouring kingdoms would have surely voiced their objections. He'd handle him with an ominous phrasing like:
“My Prince, please do not show favouritism to a lowly vassal, such as I. I would lose all loyalty towards a lord that can't abide by the rules.”
[What a funny tou-san.]
It wasn't also possible to simply cancel my right of inheritance, for one of the paragraphs in the ancient treaty of Gresta (which all demon countries more or less accepted) demanded that titles in the demon realms had to be given to the closest descendants. For the countries under this treaty those were iron-clad laws. Breaking them would incur the wrath of others since that document was the only common ground between demon realms from one and a half continents, after all.
We had two options. Either I would have to officially cut ties with father or he had to give up on his title. He often proposed option number one and explained that our way of life wouldn't really change. It would have just been for appearance's sake. Granted, I'd never considered this for even a second.
That's why he felt guilty, thinking his work was standing in the way of my happiness and was ready to step down from his position when the call to arms came.
The talks were interrupted by this, but I wouldn't have let him step down anyway. So he went to fight and the safety of the village was left in my hands.
I was perfectly capable, or so I thought. Mother had died on said S-Ranked Quest 1 year after giving birth to me. That's one of the reasons why our Prince felt so inclined to bestow a title on father, but the main reason was him simply being a capable man, of course.
Against father's wishes I took up the sword at a young age. Traditionally the daughter would train in the type of weapon her mother used, which was a spear in this case. As a child I didn't understand that this was disrespectful to her memory. I just wanted to be closer to the father I so dearly loved.
Occasionally, some lesser monsters would appear and I had opportunities to test my skills against them. First, under the watchful eyes of father and then, after I turned 15, with the assistance of the local militia. I had become quite proficient.
He would usually sit in his office, calmly hearing out the reports of the scouts and then state in a proud voice: “Let my capable and beautiful daughter take care of things.”, only to follow me in secrecy.
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[Such a worrywart.]
My carefree days ended there.
Ten days after father had left a wounded scout rushed into our mansion and reported the sighting of four, possibly five lesser undead spearmen. I had heard on other continents such a force would result in an evacuation and the dispatchment of a knight with ten to fifteen footsoldiers.
Here, such an overreaction would lead to an inquiry by either the village council or the local magistrate, endowed with special rights by the Prince, in the next town, and your abilities would be questioned. Probably both.
So I only took 3 men from the militia as an escort and headed out. Usually I would have taken 6 guardsmen with me but I didn't want to leave the village too unprotected in case of an emergency, since father took so many men with him.
Bruna lies in the north-eastern part of the Serota Principality bordering a desolate wasteland that belongs to the realm of one powerful demon-lord who was contempt with wandering around his lands and not bothering anyone except for those who made the mistake of crossing his territory without paying proper tribute.
The report placed the undead only around half a day's worth of marching away from the wasteland's border and a good day's march away from Bruna in a dried up part of the forest. Our party kept up a vigilant attitude during the travel and we sent one scout out ahead to warn us of possible dangers.
He was supposed to warn us. I don't know whether he got killed first in the line of duty or simply fled into some kind of hole to hide in. We were ambushed by a highly organized military unit with no insignia, but it was still clear as the day that they belonged to the Eternal Black Demon Empire. Only the strongest military powerhouse of all known demon nations could dare to blatantly ignore national borders and get away with it.
Officially their own territory would not begin until the Cross-of-Death mountain range 270 km to the north. That does not matter much to the self-proclaimed protection force of the Original Demon Continent.
They spearheaded the Great Pacification War over the Continent of Verol 2730 years ago. If you'd ask the other side they would call it the Black Incursion. Basically, after a time of inner turmoil in Verol with multiple wars they grabbed their chance and used their weakness for their own benefit.
Needless to say, nobody believed in the part about the pacification attempt but the high nobility still laughed upon hearing that phrasing.
They honestly believed that they deserved all the known lands but the rest of the world had other plans and they lost a great deal of power in the aftermaths of that war. Now they are bound by treaties to never leave the Original Demon Continent or they would have to face an 'Excursion of Peace' by a coalition of 17 nations. (Seriously, that's what the treaty says).
Nevertheless they still derived a supremacy doctrine towards all demons from this and conduct themselves as if their culture was the godfather of all demon nations.
Those people attacked us. And some high-level ones at that.
Riding on giant direwolves, nightcrawlers, and other tamed beasts we were suddenly surrounded by 30 or more riders. Facing such odds I didn't even want to resist and rather solve the matter through negotiations. But their steady aggressive approach, an perfect encirclement, and more than anything, the professional demeanour that well trained soldiers would only show right before a bloody confrontation didn't leave us any other choice then to defend ourselves.
To be honest, even then I would have probably tried to talk it out first, but my scout was nowhere to be seen which could only mean that he either didn't do his job properly or that the soldiers of the Eternal Black Demon Empire once again didn't take any prisoners.
So I decided on:
“The moment of death has come! I die with my father's name on my lips, Wolfcleaver! I die with my prince's name on the lips, Rasion! Know the names of the people that will avenge me!”
“Kekeke...I'll make your death swiftly as thanks for facing us directly and not playing the clueless fool.” (Rider-Lord)
I had already a 'Spell of Fog' prepared and let it loose even before the enemy officer had finished with his retort. My move was immediately countered by a 'wind spell' and was followed up by three different kinds of attack spells. In that brief moment I saw that none of them had been confused by the fog at all. [Too many mages]
Their combination was perfect. The attack magic (two ice missiles and some form of light beam whose origin I didn't know) forced each one of us in a different spot. They aimed for those spots and some soldiers threw their spears and fired their arrows even before we were there, perfectly displaying a show of mockery through their supremacy.
One guardsmen was hit by three arrows in the head and a spell from the 'School of Earth' impaled him with an 'Earth-spike'.
The other guard and I saw that development and used an 'Earth-Tidal-Wave' to catapult ourselves towards the oncoming riders instead of moving to were they wanted us.
This is a move father has taught us. It's highly effective as a surprise tactic but the drawback is that you can't easily stop the movement once it's initiated. A direct frontal assault with one's life on the line. Safe landing would be accomplished through a body strengthening technique or some kind of cushion. It's a way of fighting only an adventurer would use and can be effective in one-on-one fights.
Regretfully, we were facing a charge from a mounted enemy. Going for a direct collision with them was definitely not the right decision but it was the only option left. In mid-air I put my shield in front of me and held it at an angle that would hopefully deflect the impact of the oncoming lance from the wolf-rider instead of letting it break through (the shield) and directly hitting me.
That somehow worked but I was still vaulted towards the ground, breaking my arm as well as some other bones in the process. I would have probably overturned myself a couple of times upon hitting the ground but there wasn't even any time for that, for I was crushed under the heels of the following mounts.
The fight lasted ten seconds at most. It would have been nice to know whether the last guardsmen was able to take someone with him but that is a useless sentiment.
There was no need to recapitulate on my life a last time. Father properly raised me with the mind-set of a warrior expecting death at any moment.
My actions at the end weren't shameful and, even though of a futile nature, I hope my enemies will remember them well so they can properly tell my father how I met my end, when he comes for them.
I didn't expect them to revive me from my grave, though.
End of Chapter 3