This was not at all what Warren was expecting. He did know that he would be stranded on his own without any help or any tools, but he certainly didn’t expect to arrive in the middle of nowhere without a single stitch of clothing. To make matters worse, it seemed to be the middle of summer. One good thing was that at least he was in a forest. He would have cover and access to food and water if things were really bad.
He didn’t really remember the trip between worlds. One minute he was strapped to a capsule, and the second he was in another world, standing in the middle of a crater. He thought the crater to be too neat and clean to be made by an impact, and so attributed it to be the matter that his body was formed from.
Putting aside the immediate problems, he realized that he should probably take stock of his situation. Travelling between worlds was bound to have side-effects. From what he could see, he seemed to be okay. He had all his limbs, they were all in the right place, and he didn’t feel anything wrong.
Before he had a chance to check out his implants or his appearance, a mass of thick black smoke formed before him. It appeared out of nowhere and moved as if it was alive, before condensing into a recognizable form. From inside the smoke, a woman stepped out.
She was stunningly beautiful, with pale, alabaster skin, thick inky black hair and a face that was almost too perfect to exist on a human. She was dressed in a simple grey dress. It didn’t have any embroidering or frills, but it had more impact than the highest-quality clothes that models would wear. It looked too soft and too fine to be made from silk, and seemed to be made from one continuous piece of fabric that didn’t have a single stitch on it.
Yet for all her beauty, and though she appeared to be a fragile young woman, Warren couldn’t help but feel dread building up in the pit of his stomach. For some reason he couldn’t explain, his instincts were screaming that she was a terrifyingly powerful person.
If she really was all that powerful, then it was probably a wise idea to avoid angering her and fighting altogether. Keeping his tone even and steady, he asked her, “excuse me miss, but who might you be exactly?”
She arched one perfect eyebrow at his question. “Well, well. It seems you’re one of the rare mortals who can sense the depths of my power. And yet, you still remain calm and in full possession of your wits.” Her lips curled up into a smile and her jet-black eyes twinkled with amusement, and travelled down his body. “You’re also quite self-assured, unashamedly standing there, baring your full self to me.”
His ears and cheeks pinkened with embarrassment, but he didn’t move to cover himself up, since he got the sense that it would lower some expectation she had of him. He was about to explain his situation when he froze. He realized something glaringly obvious that he had completely overlooked. She spoke in English.
“How can you be speaking my language?” Warren asked her slowly. Was it possible that this world was more like his than he realized? Or was it just that the attempt to transfer him failed, and all of this was just a very vivid dream?
The woman laughed low in her throat. “I can understand your confusion. As to why I can speak this language, the answer’s quite simple. I took a peek inside your mind when you entered this world. No need to look so alarmed, I didn’t see any of your dirty little secrets. I was very discreet.”
“You did what? That can’t be possible.” Warren shook his head in disbelief. Such a thing was unheard of.
“Not in your world perhaps, but it is in this one. At least, it’s possible for a goddess.”
“A goddess, as in an immortal, omniscient, omnipotent being?”
“I suppose it would be a shock to you, since you come from a world whose god doesn’t even make their presence known. Though to clarify, I’m neither omniscient nor omnipotent. I’m just very knowledgeable and powerful.”
“Well then, what would a goddess want with someone like me? Excluding the method of my arrival, I’m a fairly ordinary person.”
She chuckled at his statement. “Ordinary? Is that what you think? There are many reasons as to why you’re anything but ordinary, some you’re aware of, and some you aren’t. But suffice it to say, I’ve taken an interest in you. You should feel flattered. Not many people receive a personal visit from a goddess.”
“I suppose I should, especially given the fact that I’m an atheist.”
“It’s good to see that you still have your sense of humor. But boy,” she looked at him pointedly, “I can assure you that I’m most definitely a goddess.” An enormous pressure crashed down upon him. Wave after wave of mindless terror washed over him, and he was flooded by the sudden and desperate need to prostate himself before her and do her bidding. It took sheer strength of will to hold on to his sense of self so as not to get swept away by her power.
As quickly as that pressure came down on him, it went away just as quickly. Warren found himself on his knees, drenched in sweat. Some residual traces of fear and devotion still lingered, before he pulled himself together and stood up to look her right in the eye. While just about everyone else with even half a brain would bow down before her and worship the very ground she walked upon, Warren glared defiantly at her, pissed off at the aggressive show of force.
This time, the goddess burst out laughing. “Oh my, you really are something special. I have to admit, I’ve never before seen a reaction like that. Tell me, are you brave or stupid?”
“If it was just a choice between the two, I’d call myself brave.”
“And if it wasn’t?”
“Then I’d call myself observant. You seemed to take an interest in me, so you didn’t seem likely to kill me. Besides, you’d probably be disappointed if I acted in any other manner. Now can we stop with these tests and get to why you want me?”
She sighed and feigned disappointment. “Now you’re taking away my fun. Fine, if you want direct, I’ll give it to you. You are a unique singularity in this world, someone who is not tied down to any one thing or place. Unlike every other mortal being, you are free from the mark of a god.”
“I’m afraid I still don’t understand. So what if I don’t belong to any god?”
“It may not mean much to any other gods or goddesses, but it means a great deal to me. Unlike them, I am unable to create a new race from my flesh and blood, and I don’t have anywhere near the level of influence over mortals the way other beings do. I’ve watched for millennia while my brethren play with their mortal vassals, while I’m stuck with vengeful spirits and demons.” Her tone gradually grew more acidic and wrathful as she spoke of what had been denied to her.
“So what sort of goddess are you?”
As she began to speak, it seemed as though the shadows started to reach for her and the world fell silent. “I am Kiyalah, the goddess of vengeance and dark desires. In my heart burns the flame of wrath and hatred, for I am the reaper that culls the herd, and the darkness that cradles the light.”
“No, really. What sort of goddess are you?”
“What, I don’t look the part?”
“Well it’s just that for a goddess that sounds so dark and foreboding, you’re a bit too…perky.”
“Would you feel better if I dressed entirely in black and screamed angrily all the time?” She asked wryly. “Personally I think it would be too much work.”
“Right, can we get back to you being…less than benevolent?”
“Well I admit that my nature isn’t a peaceful one, but it isn’t an evil one either, though the other gods and mortal races would have you believe otherwise. Let me ask you this; is it evil to kill a murderer or a rapist? Or to assassinate a ruler that squeezes the lifeblood of the people? Morality is a fiction created by you humans. But you already know this to be true.” Her eyes glinted and she smiled knowingly. She had after all been inside his head.
“You wouldn’t hesitate to kill to kill those who come after your loved ones. On the contrary, you would revel in the sensation of slaughtering your enemies. You wouldn’t hesitate to commit an unspeakable act of evil, as long as a great deal of good would come from it. Would you call yourself evil? I think that you understand my nature better than most. I am not the goddess of destruction and chaos. I am the necessary evil that keeps the world in check.”
He had to admit that she made a great deal of sense, and her nature was one that he could respect. However, “while that sounds all well and good, you could easily be lying to me. For all I know, you might actually be that evil goddess that everyone thinks you are.”
“Perhaps, but so what if that’s actually true? You may not believe or trust me, but at this point you have no other choice. I’m the only one that’s offering you a helping hand. Whether you like it or not, you need me and can’t afford to turn down my aid.”
Warren grimaced as the truth of her words hit home. Regardless of who she was, she appeared to be his only ally in this new world. He wouldn’t get very far in this strange new world without her help and protection. He didn’t want to be tied to her, but it wasn’t as if he had any other options. If an angel wouldn’t help him, then he had no choice but to sell his soul to a devil.
Right before he was going to accept, an icy wind began to blow, and a whirlwind of ice and snow began to swirl before them. Just like with Kiyalah, the form of a woman began to coalesce out of it.
Kiyalah clicked her tongue in annoyance. “I was hoping she wouldn’t notice.”
In contrast to Kiyalah, this goddess had short, snow-white hair. It matched her silver eyes, and contrasted nicely against her skin. Unlike Kiyalah’s fair skin, hers was a soft powder-blue. It was exotic and suited her features nicely.
This new goddess drew her eyebrows together, the only sign of her irritation. She crooked a finger at Kiyalah and rattled off a phase in a strange language. Kiyalah tossed her head ever so slightly and sent a small wisp of black smoke from her finger to the goddess’ forehead.
“That’s better,” she said in English. When she spoke, it wasn’t with the predatory tone of voice that Kiyalah had. Her voice was calm and measured. “Come now sister, shielding him with your power might fool our brothers and sisters, but did you really think that I wouldn’t notice the fact that there was a new soul present in this world?”
Kiyalah sighed in defeat. “Honestly, I was hoping you wouldn’t, but then again he is rather special.”
“Yes he is indeed, which is why I understand your reasons for keeping him to yourself. But sister, I can’t let you have him all to yourself. You’re not the only one who desires a mortal vassal.”
Warren was initially wary at the sight of another goddess, but seeing the cordial, friendly atmosphere between the two, he relaxed a fraction. “So I guess you two aren’t at odds with each other.”
“Among all the gods and goddesses of this world, Yana here is the only one I would call a friend.”
“As the mortals say, misery loves company.” Yana’s icy demeanor relaxed ever so slightly, and Warren realized that it was her attempt at humour. “Like Kiyalah, my nature as a goddess doesn’t allow me the privilege of having a mortal champion in the world.”
“And what goddess might you be exactly?”
“In mortal minds, I am death incarnate. I am the frigid spirit who preys upon the world and collects souls to fill my unending hunger.” She cracked a small smile after saying that. “It sounds terrible and frightening, but that’s nothing more than a misconception. I`m nowhere near as exciting as Kiyalah is. My job is to simply collect the souls of the departed and send them where they belong.”
While Yana was explaining her duties, Kiyalah had a thoughtful look in her eyes. “Yana, instead of competing over who gets possession over him, why don’t we do what our brethren did for the blessed races?”
Yana cast an eye over him, scrutinizing every detail about his body. “But will that work? Before he arrived in this world, it was impossible for us to even claim a mortal as our own, and now you want to attempt the Rite of Divine Souls? With both of us?” Even through her calm and measured demeanor, Warren could sense her disbelief. Yet behind that was excitement and apprehension.
“Now I don’t mean to be rude and piss off two goddesses, but don’t I have a say in this too?” He meant to keep his voice level, but hearing them talk about him like a toy or a pawn allowed his anger and annoyance to seep through. “And what is this rite anyway?”
Kiyalah looked at him with bemusement. “Alright Warren, we’ll stop talking as if you weren’t there. The Rite of Divine Souls is the greatest expression of power that the gods can demonstrate, and is in fact our first act in the mortal world. There are rules in the mortal world which prevent us from exerting ourselves to any great degree. We can’t take or create a life, give any overly generous gifts to our followers, or be seen by anyone not under our mark. As you can imagine, this greatly restricts our power here.
This rite gathers our most devoted followers in this world and bestows upon them a part of our essence. The other gods expended their powers in the creation of their ‘blessed’ races. Humans were the original race, and from them came dwarves, elves, orcs and dragons, each one born from the powers of two or more gods. Yana and I are the only ones who haven’t done the rite, since we thought we wouldn’t be able to.”
“Would I still remain as I am, or be transformed like the other races were?”
Kiyalah’s eyes sparkled. “That’s the beauty of it, we have no idea what will happen, given your unique situation.”
“Well that’s just great,” Warren said sarcastically.
“It may not be ideal, but the benefits far outweigh the drawbacks. However, I want you to remember, we have just as much invested in this as you do. We only have one chance to create a race of our own. So, will you agree to accept our power?” Yana asked him.
“Fine, let’s get this over with.”
“I’m so glad you came to see things our way,” Kiyalah purred with glee. She glided over the ground to him, her stride full of elegance. She reached up to curl her left hand around his neck, while her right lay over his heart. Her black manicured nails dug into his skin, as she pulled his head down and forced his lips to hers. It was hard and possessive, a way of her claiming him as her own.
He barely even had time to register how soft her lips were, before they started to burn. It felt as if a corrosive acid was spreading throughout his body. It was harsh and almost overpowering. His muscles cramped up and beads of sweat started to form on his skin.
When it finally abated, he felt weak in the knees, but managed to stay standing. When Kiyalah stepped back, he saw that she was smiling. Yana on the other hand shook her head in annoyance. “Must you always do things so dramatically?”
Kiyalah merely raised her shoulders in nonchalance. When Yana came towards him, her steps left behind a small patch of frost on the ground, and when she finally stood before him, she gave him a small smile. “You may be disappointed to know that unlike my sister, I have no interest in such crude behaviour.” She placed one cold hand on the side of his face and sent her power into him.
Where Kiyalah’s power burned like fire and acid, Yana’s power was frigid instead. He felt as if his blood had frozen in his veins, and every one of his nerve endings felt as if a metal spike was going through them.
He could feel the two distinct powers deep in the core of his being. One was a ball of hot concentrated acid, while the other was a mass of frozen energy, cold enough to burn. Yana and Kiyalah stepped back and stood on either side of him.
When they raised their arms, Warren felt the air go still. He felt their power building, thick and oppressive, it filled the air. He could feel the power they injected into him begin to resonate with the waves of energy they gave off. They pulsed together like a heartbeat, expanding and filling him up.
The goddesses’ eyes started to blaze with an incandescent light, and the pulsing powers reached a fever-pitch, mirroring the mounting energy that surrounded Warren. When it finally crested, he felt it shoot into every part of his body.
As their divine essence permeated every cell in his body, he felt his body start to respond to it. At first it was a subtle tightening of his muscles and creaking of his bones, but it quickly became much worse. The bones in his legs shattered. He immediately fell to the ground, unable to hold his body up.
Like a wave, it rose up his body, quickly reaching his hips, and going up his spine and his arms. Despite his spine breaking, his nerves were well intact, restricting movement, but allowing every bit of pain to be felt. His skull was the last part to be affected, and when his jaws shattered, he lost the ability to even scream out in agony.
That was only the beginning of his torment, as his muscles tore themselves apart. His guts liquefied and blood started to boil. Beads of blood formed on his skin from his pores, and rolled down his eyes like tears.
The pain was unimaginably excruciating. It was at a level that humans weren’t meant to be able to survive. It was nothing like what he felt in Royal Road. Even if he gathered all the injuries he ever received into a single moment, it wouldn’t amount to half the agony he felt at that moment.
It was a moment that never seemed to end, a time when he couldn’t think or feel anything but pain. It seemed to stretch out for hours and days. There was no past and no future, only that single horrifying moment.
There wasn’t anything to hold onto to ride out the pain; all he could do was to be swept away in its waves. He was drowning in it, like a man fighting to keep his head above water. Eventually he stopped fighting and let himself go, sinking into sweet merciful oblivion until his consciousness was blotted out by darkness.
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When the agony finally did begin to recede, he wasn’t aware of it. The crushed bits of bone came together and remade themselves, while his muscles knitted themselves together and his organs reformed.
“Damn, he broke,” Kiyalah said disappointedly.
“Well of course he did. Did you really think he could make it through something like that and still be intact?”
“I don’t see why not.”
Even Yana’s icy demeanor couldn’t hide her irritation. “You really know nothing about mortals. They are really quite fragile. I’m actually impressed at how well he did. Anyone else would have had their minds ground to dust until they were nothing more than a witless vegetable. He at least still has a spark of consciousness left inside him.”
Kiyalah rolled her eyes at Yana. “Fine, step aside and let me bring him out.”
“You,” Yana said in disbelief. “You’re the goddess of wrath and destruction. You’re the least qualified to do something like this. I’ll bring him out, and impart some knowledge while I’m at it.” She then placed a hand on Warren’s head, and tugged at his spirit.
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Warren came to with a gasp. When he was last awake, his body was completely destroyed and he was swimming in agony. Now he awoke to find himself in a fully healed body, with no trace of his injuries being present. The only thing he felt was an intense headache.
“Are you alright?” Yana asked him.
“How can I possibly be alright after something like that?” He growled at her. “Is it supposed to hurt as much as that, or did the rite fail?” He winced at the flare of pain that went through his head. His headache was dying down, but it went away slowly.
“No need to worry, the rite was successful. The reason it was so painful was because you were injected with powers that weren’t meant to be placed in a mortal body. Although I do admit it was a bit touch and go for a while there. Were it not for your magical constructs, you may not have made it,” said Kiyalah.
“Magical constructs? What on earth are you talking about?”
“She’s talking about the magical spell that has been bound to your body, specifically the eyes, the brain, and your skin.”
Warren realized that they were talking about the implants that had been placed inside him. However if what they were saying was true, “so if it’s only magic, there isn’t anything metallic inside me right?”
Kiyalah looked at him as if he was being completely ridiculous. “Of course not. By the way, have you been paying attention to what you were saying?”
Warren had no clue what she was getting at, until he suddenly remembered exactly what he said. Not a word of it was in English. He had been speaking a strange new language as easily as if he had been speaking it all his life. “How…?”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“You have Yana to thank for that,” said Kiyalah.
“There’s no need. The Common tongue, the Dwarvish and the Elven language are my gift to you.”
“Well, thank you anyway,” Warren said courteously, “at least that explains the headache. It will be of great use to me over here.”
“Now that we’ve cleared up the whole language thing, why don’t we wrap things up?” Kiyalah asked Yana.
“Very well. Now that you have been claimed by us, our mark will hide you from our brethren. You are free to roam the world and do as you please, but at times we will call on you, and you have no choice but to answer. In this world, you are our voice and our sword. From this day to your last, you are ours.”
The mark she pointed to was on his chest. It was an intricate runic design, a triangular pattern of sharp swirling lines partially enclosed by two concentric circles. The circles were connected by a number of thin spikes that went all the way around and which connected to the inner pattern. Unlike a normal tattoo, this mark shimmered with traces of blue and red.
“Good,” Kiyalah said cheerfully. “Now that that’s done, Warren, do try not to get yourself killed.”
“Wait, you haven’t even explained what your power has done to me, or given me a map, clothes, or even a weapon.” He also would have liked a mirror to see what he looked like, but that could wait a while.
Yana had already disappeared in a puff of ice and snow, and smoke had already started to gather around Kiyalah. “No need to worry. What you need is already on its way towards you,” she said as she disappeared into the smoke. “The rest, you can find out for yourself.” He heard her say those words to him in his head.
At least he had discovered one of the things that had changed about him. He could now hold telepathic conversations with goddesses. He was wondering what she meant about what he needed coming towards him, when he heard the clattering sound of wooden wheels coming towards him.
At one point in his life he would have been embarrassed at being seen naked, but having an entire conversation with two goddesses without a stitch of clothing had a way of removing such embarrassment.
It took a few minutes for the wagons to roll up to him. There were two large, open-roofed wagons, each led by two horses. There were four men in each wagon. They were dirty and bruised, with matted hair and stained clothing.
Crap, Warren thought to himself, as he saw the swords and daggers each of the men held. They weren’t in uniform, so that led to only one conclusion. They were bandits. When the horses came to a stop, the men got off the wagon and stood before him, hands to their weapons.
The biggest one of the group was well over six foot five, with a roll of fat over a muscled frame. He had a thick beard and greasy brown hair that fell to his shoulders. Unlike the others, his clothes were cleaner and better made. From what he could tell, his weapons were better crafter as well. “Well looky here. This must be the strangest sight I’ve ever seen, what about you boys?”
The other bandits laughed raucously, confident in their numbers against one unarmed naked man. “Now there’s no need for any trouble here. All I wanted was some clothes and directions."
“Oh ho, is that all you wanted? I’ve got a better idea. How about we sell you off? I think our customer would pay us a bit extra for a handsome, well-built young man. Your kind will sell much better than the girl we already have.”
So they weren’t just bandits who robbed and plundered settlements and wayward travellers, they were also occasional slavers and human traffickers. Although Warren wanted to beat them up, eight against one were not good odds. It would be wiser to end this without a confrontation.
Are you sure that’s what you want to do? Kiyalah’s voice suddenly echoed in his mind. Before you make your decision, I suggest looking inside the second wagon.
Curious as to what she wanted to see, he edged closer towards the back of the second wagon. The bandits moved with him, forming a rough semi-circle before him. When he finally did get into a position where he could see the wagon’s cargo, he froze. A young woman lay there, in torn and tattered clothing.
He was going to leave the bandits alone, but what he saw was unforgiveable. She was bruised all over her body, and was bleeding from many long shallow cuts. The cuts didn’t come from defending herself; it was done afterward with the express purpose of causing her pain. Even though there was barely any life left in her body, she kept mumbling a few words. Warren could only make out a part of what she said.
“…stop…my sister…leave us…alone…please…”
Do you think that filth like this should be allowed to draw another breath? Her soul and that of all their other victims cries out for vengeance. Embrace the rage within you and deliver unto them what they have wrought onto others. Kiyalah’s words got to him, stirring up the fierce burning hatred he felt towards them. On this subject, he and Kiyalah were in solid agreement.
“You will pay for what you’ve done.” His voice was low and cold. He wanted to scream at them, and give himself fully over to the rage, but acting with emotion is a sure way of getting oneself killed. No, instead he reined it in and kept a tight leash on it, channeling his fury through cold, hard rationality.
The leader of this small group looked to where he was looking at. He laughed cruelly, his eyes shining as if they were savouring a precious memory. “So you’re the hero type, are ya? You wanna save the fair maiden? Well I’ve got news for ya. After what we did to her, she ain’t no maiden no more.” The other bandits joined in with raucous laughter.
They had absolutely no remorse for what they did. There wasn’t a single man who wasn’t guilty of this and many more crimes. What right did they have to walk around free and easy, when people like that young woman were victimized by them. Warren could see, beneath the crusted blood and the dull vacant eyes, the warm gentle spirit of that poor woman. She was no great beauty, and was less than plain in her appearance. She wasn’t pretty enough for them to sell off or keep, so they used her only to discard her afterwards like trash.
While a portion of Warren’s mind was thinking of this, another part was watching carefully as the bandits came closer towards him. This wasn’t the time to think about other matters. He had to fully commit to the battle before him.
He turned his attention to his enemies. The leader had hung back and sent the other seven men to get him. While most were a couple of metres away, one of the eager bandits was within arm’s reach. He was younger than the others, and looked like he wanted to prove himself. Like the other bandits, he underestimated Warren and didn’t draw his sword.
Faster than the bandits could react, Warren’s hand shot out and gripped the gangly youth by the throat. Warren was surprised at the speed and power he possessed, and took note of it for later. He was strong enough to lift the young bandit up into the air with only a minor strain on his muscles.
Warren looked into his light brown eyes and saw how he was little older than Warren. Yet even the bright light of youth didn’t cover the taint that came from committing atrocities upon the innocent. He was as guilty as the rest of them, so Warren didn’t hesitate to turn him around so that he could place his other hand underneath the bandit’s jaws and twist viciously to one side. Just like that, the light in the bandit’s eyes was snuffed out and his body went limp.
Warren dropped the body and looked down upon it. “So that’s what killing someone feels like. I thought it would have been harder to do, or at least that I would feel bad about it,” Warren said conversationally.
It jolted the other bandit’s out of their stupor. While the subordinates paled in fear and shock, the leader’s face flushed with anger. “Kill him!” He shouted to his men. They drew their swords and carefully approached him, fearful at what he might do to them.
Warren chuckled deep in his throat. “No need to worry, I’m not going to snap your necks like I did with your friend here.” He reached down to the corpse and pulled out the sheathed sword. “No, I’m going to cut you to pieces instead.”
It was a single-edged longsword, a little smaller than he would have liked, but still serviceable. It seemed to be made by a sub-par blacksmith, warped and bulging in places, and wasn’t quite straight or that sharp, but it would do for now. The other bandits had weapons of a similar quality.
Unlike these bandits, Warren had spent almost eight years of time training with a sword. When he ran an eye over the bandit’s posture and manner of carrying their weapons, he could tell they were amateurs at best. They had no real skill, and instead relied on numbers and crude hacking and smashing techniques.
When two of the bandits charged at Warren and tried to overwhelm him, he easily dodged their slashes and counterattacked by slicing through the first one’s throat and then spinning around to thrust up and through the second bandit’s heart.
He stunned the other bandits with his quick, precise motions. He took full advantage of it to run up to another pair of bandits and swung down, flaying one of them open from chest to hip. As he saw his friend topple over, blood spurting from his massive wound, the other bandit tried to run. It was a fool’s move to show your back to the enemy, as Warren quickly showed him by thrusting his sword through his back.
In the span of a few minutes, Warren had killed five of the eight bandits. By this point, the rest of them were quaking in terror. Even the leader was shaken. “So even after all this, you’re going to keep hiding behind your subordinates? For a big man you must be one hell of a coward.”
From what he had gleaned from his observations, Warren could tell that the leader was a hot-blooded man. He taunted and baited him to action, and as he predicted, the leader took the bait.
“You think you’re better than me? Fine, I’ll show you,” he spat out. He took his weapon off his back. It was a large battle-axe. Unlike the other weapons, it was of a much higher quality. He glared at his remaining two subordinates. “Don’t you dare think about running. What do you think the boss’ll do to you if he finds out? Anyway, this guy might be strong, but he isn’t stronger than me. Sides, he doesn’t even have any magic.”
Bolstered by his words, the pair was reinvigorated to defeat him. With a furious bellow, the bandit leader led his two subordinates on a foolish charge right at him. He bunched his muscles and slammed his axe down, trying to cleave Warren’s head in two.
Warren simply sidestepped the axe and made a long slice up the leader’s arm, making the leader roar with pain. He sensed a sword coming from behind him, and so he ducked beneath the swing of the blade. He spun and sliced up, cutting through the tendons of the wrist, and then slashing again through the elbows. The bandit howled in pain and let go of his sword.
With those two unable to fight any longer, the last man dropped his sword and dropped to his knees, pleading for mercy. Warren took the weapons from the men and tossed them to the side before turning to speak to them. The bandits were huddled together, so he took a length of rope from the wagon and tied them to it.
“You expect me to give you mercy, after all you’ve done? Let me make things very clear to you. I am neither a noble knight nor a hero who’s going to treat you fairly. I’m not going to bargain with you for information. No matter what happens, you will not leave here alive.” He then shoved the point of his sword into the stomach of the man whose wrists and elbows he cut. The bandit screamed piteously, trying to use his mangled hand to keep his guts from spilling out. “You will all die by my hand, but the only question you need ask yourself, is if you want a quick, clean death or one that I drag out?”
The other subordinate watched the whole scene horrified. He looked up at Warren, terrified that the same thing was going to happen to him. The leader also couldn’t take his eyes off of his subordinate. Warren let them watch as the man bled out of the wound, moaning and sobbing for an end to the pain.
While they were forced to bear witness to their comrade’s slow and painful death, Warren went to check on the woman. Her lips had stopped moving, and her body was all too still. Her heart still beat, but it did so slowly and sluggishly.
Warren took one of the worn blankets from the wagon and covered her up in it. He wiped the blood off her face to give her a semblance of dignity. He then made a promise to her. “I will find the people that did this to you and your family, and I will make them pay.” His eyes misted up and his voice trembled as he made this oath to her. He may be a cold-blooded demon on the battlefield, but he was by no means heartless. As the time between each heartbeat gradually grew longer, Warren could do little more than hold her silently and wait. Eventually, her heart stopped beating and she took her last breath.
Warren gently closed the battered woman’s eyelids, hoping that she would find peace in her next life. He went back to the bandits. The leader had his eyes shut tight, while the uninjured one was a mess, his shirt stained with vomit and tears. They had to listen to their comrade bleed out before them, as he called their names and begged to be put out of his misery.
It seemed he had finally succumbed to his wound and lay still in a pool of blood. Warren knelt down beside him and noted, “I must have nicked the liver. I’ll make sure to aim better next time. After all, I wouldn’t want you to die on me too quickly.” The leader glared at him with hatred and terror, and the other one moaned in fear.
“Now, which one of you is going to tell me everything I want to know about your camp?” He swung his blade between them, making sure to keep the point at eye-level. “Maybe that little demonstration wasn’t quite enough. Perhaps I need to take off an ear or two. How about a finger or a toe? Or should we begin with something a bit more delicate?” He lowered the point of the sword to their waists.
“Wait, I’ll tell you what you want to know!” The subordinate cried out desperately.
“Shut your mou-HUK!” Warren’s blade slashed through the leader’s throat before he could finish talking. He didn’t cut too deep, which made the bandit gasp and gurgle through the blood that filled his throat. As much as tried to staunch the bleeding, he couldn’t.
Ignoring the dying man, Warren turned to the last bandit remaining. Spurred on by Warren’s actions, he willingly gave up all the information Warren needed and more. Once he had finished, he looked up at Warren desperately. “Pl-please let me live. I didn’t do anything; it was everyone else that hurt her. I swear I didn’t do anything.” He begged Warren, with eyes streaming with tears.
“Doing nothing is almost the same as joining in. You knew what you were signing up for when you joined, which makes you as bad as everyone else. But don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise.” He gripped the sword with both hands, and swung hard and fast, slicing through his neck and decapitating him. He was dead well before his head hit the floor.
After wiping off the blood on his sword and his body, Warren went to the wagons and through the corpses and picked out all the useful things. He found a decent amount of coins, as well as some suitable clothes, food, and better weapons. He changed into a grey shirt and dark blue pants, with a pair of soft deerskin boots. There weren’t much armour apart from some leather vambraces, so he took them for his own. He also upgraded his sword to a fairly decent one. It was plain and unadorned, but rather well-crafted. There was also a good, hefty knife that he took for his own. He transferred everything else he picked out onto one wagon.
With his supplies in order, he released the other horses and brought the woman’s body to the ground. After he built a make-shift pyre from some surrounding wood, he gently placed her body upon it. Had there been a shovel he would have dug a grave, but this would have to do. After dousing her body in some oil, he lit it and cremated her body.
As he watched the body char and burn up, the only thing he could do was offer a prayer and apologize for being unable to save her. When the fire had died down, he got onto the wagon and drove it towards the bandit camp.
According to the bandit, it was only about two hours away. While he drove over the rough dirt road and steered the horses, he thought about what had happened. He was stronger and faster than he’d ever been, to a level that nearly exceeded the limits of a human body. However it was much more than that. His thoughts were faster as well, his reflexes sharper than they’d ever been. All his senses were heightened, and he even seemed to have an extra one, what some would call a sixth sense.
During the battle, he just knew where his opponents were and sensed their actions even if they were behind him or a good distance away. Even now, there were some things that he just knew with an unshakeable certainty. It was this certainty that let him know that his sixth sense wasn’t due to whatever the goddesses had done to him, but because of the implants that had been planted inside him.
Yet then again, they couldn’t be called implants anymore. They had integrated into his system flawlessly and became magical rather than technological. He supposed it was because technology wouldn’t work the same way here as it did in his old world. He also sensed that he had lost some of the raw power and focus the implants had, but traded it for ease of use and more passive effects.
He would have time to develop his sight and his sensory abilities further when he had some spare time, perhaps after the coming battle. At the moment, there was something else he was worried about. It was a dark, insidious fear that wrapped around his heart.
He thought back to what he did during the battle. He remembered the cold, callous way he dispatched the bandits. How he tortured them and slaughtered them after they had surrendered. Worst of all, he remembered how he didn’t shed a single tear or feel the slightest hint of remorse.
Any normal person would have been sick to their stomach to even witness what had happened. What kind of monster was he, that he felt nothing after doing all that? Perhaps he was the same kind of monster that the bandits were.
You are nothing like them. What they did was evil for evil’s sake. What you did was necessary.
Really? Was it necessary to kill them after they had given up, or to feel nothing after doing so? He asked this bitterly.
Evil that is left to roam free will eventually commit atrocities again. There are some things that must be eradicated and wiped from the earth. You must remember that this is not a world filled with law and order. It’s a world where the strong set the rules, and weak are trampled underfoot. It is the same reason why you felt no remorse. You are a survivor, someone who would do all he could to stay alive, who would get his hands dirty for the sake of the greater good. Trust the words of someone who has seen into your very soul. You are not an evil person.
Warren was silent for a few beats as he pondered what she said. Finally he thought to her, thank you. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that I got stuck with you. He heard the tinkling sound of her laughter as her voice faded away, and he was once again alone with his thoughts.
She was right in everything that she said. He wasn’t someone to dwell on the past. He needed to accept what he was and look ahead in life. He would do what was necessary and what he felt was right. He would not hurt an innocent or forgive those who dared harm them. He wasn’t doing this out of some sense of justice; he was doing this because what they did pissed him off. It may not have been a noble reason, but it was still alright with him.
As he made this oath to himself, a dark power within him responded to his vow, and words from deep inside him and echoed in his mind. His actions were the will of Wrath and Vengeance, and his sword bore the touch of Lady Death. Those who stood in his way should quake in terror, for he was the harbinger of death and chaos.