Chapter 9 - Atrocity
Kuro's Village - Village Outskirts
Shlunk.
"That's the last of them."
Simon let out a sigh before stepping back to dust the dirt off his pants.
In front of him sat the naked and mutilated corpse of a human impaled on a roughly four-meter stake. The word 'Bandit' was carved in large, savage-looking letters across its chest. Its arms and legs were disturbing missing, the clean cuts leaving little doubt as to when they were removed.
"I know I didn't ask but, you'll burn for this...atrocity."
Kuro's quiet voice appeared behind Simon, causing the man to turn around with the same sad smile.
"Aye, I'll burn, but it won't be for this."
Simon casually walked past the village elder while leaving the impaled corpse behind. All along the village's perimeter, the same grizzly sight was present. A hastily constructed wooden barrier was also erected behind the bodies, obstructing the view from inside. Something Simon had added as a last-minute touch to try and shield the village children from the grizzly sight.
Kuro stood motionless, staring at the impaled corpse while contemplating Simon's words.
N-Not for this? Just what has that man done to be able to so confidently make such a statement? Kuro's eyes shook as his gaze focused in on the dismembered corpse in front of him. None of the impaled bodies still had arms or legs.
Kuro's Village - Village Interior - Kuritn's house - Two Days Earlier
Simon sighed softly before taking a deep breath and knocking on the large wooden hatch at his feet. Soon the sound of a heavy door opening emerged from beneath the hatch followed closely behind by the sound of heavy footsteps then with a loud clink the hatch opened up slightly. Simon eyed the man barely visable beneath it. Kuritn. Kuritn was a small elderly man, who appeared to be in his late 50s or early 60s. While the hair atop his head had long since gone white the man's brows remained a defiant shade of black. The man nodded at Simon before unfastening the thick metal chain hanging on the hatch and opening it fully. Simon's nose curled upwards as the foul stench of death filled the air but otherwise paid it no mind before descending down the adobe stairs into the basement. Kuritn stayed behind to briefly enjoy the fresh air before latching closed the hatch and reapplying the chain. No visitors were permitted while the two men carried out their grizzly work.
Simon confirmed that Kuritn had closed the hatch before opening the inner door. All at once, the foul stench filled the entryway as he stepped into the large room. In front of him were the remains of nearly fifty bandits, each neatly suspended in the air with a large wooden trough beneath filled with blood. He shook his head at the sight.
"I had honestly hoped I wouldn't be doing something like this again."
Kuritn appeared beside him and nodded, "Aye. But that's also why we're the ones doing it, ain't it?" The elderly man offered a grim smile before coughing loudly, "Still, For me, the worst part about this whole mess is the damned smell. Gonna have to burn down the whole house once we're done here."
A small smile spread across Simon's face, "We're down here draining blood, removing limbs, making horse/bandit jerky and that's what you're concerned about?" His grin widened as he laughed and slapped Kuritn on the back lightly. "I thought I was fucked up but, maybe not so much."
Kuritn shook his head as he retrieved a large knife from one of the blood-stained tables, "Nah, We're both fucked up. You from wherever it is you fought in and me from my years as a bandit and as a mercenary fighting for the highest bidder." The elderly man clicked his tongue loudly while carving thin strips of flesh off the compressed block of meat in front of him.
"Yeah." Simon paused for a moment as he observed the elderly man go about his grizzly work. Despite his advanced age, Kuritn's body still maintained its muscular figure.
Kuritn was nearly 10cm shorter than himself (170cm 5'7), standing roughly at 160cm (5'3). Scars of various sizes and severity danced across his skin with each movement. Suddenly Kuritn raised an eyebrow and turned toward his observer.
"Hey now, Watchin's fine and all but if you're going to stare that intently I might start to think you wanna go around or two," The old man did a teasing flex while Simon removed his clothes with a sigh.
"Sorry. I'm not that interested in men, as I've said before."
Kuritn's laughter filled the room. "Neither am I," he stated happily as both of the naked men set to work. It wasn't long before both of them were completely covered in blood and other bodily fluids.
Simon went about carving hunks of flesh off of the suspended corpses before grinding up the harvested meat and mixing it with similarly ground-up horse meat. The final mixture was one part ground bandit and one part horse. The rather foul concoction of meat was then compressed into brick-shaped slabs under several tons of pressure provided by his augmented strength. A foul-smelling vat sat beneath the heavy compression table collecting the juices that were extracted for later use.
The solid loaves of meat were then passed over to Kuritn who set about delicately carving off wafer-thin strips. Each strip was then placed onto one of the dozen hastily constructed drying racked throughout the cellar.
Simon sighed quietly before wiping the sweat from his brow with a blood-stained hand, "That's the last one, meat-wise. Now it's just carving, impaling, then transporting them outside."
Behind him, Kuritn folds his muscular arms over his chest, "Aye. I've got about five or six of these blocks left to finish carvin. After that, I'll get to work smoking them upstairs, Although I'm tempted to just dig a hole in the floor here and smoke um in the entire basement since this whole place is getting demolished anyway."
Simon nodded his head and turned around to face the man, "Do you want me to set up a fire pit while you finish that part?" His finger pointing over towards the remaining loaves.
"Aye, If you don't mind that'd help. The sooner we get these things cured the longer they'll last and the sooner we can burn this place down."
With a single nod, Simon set about digging a large hole in the cellar's floor solidly packing the extracted dirt into a thick perimeter wall. Simon nodded his head in satisfaction at a job well done after putting the finishing touches on the firepit. The new hole was quickly filled in with the large number of wood shavings that he had created while carving out the stakes he would use on the bandit corpses.
Kuro's Village - Mess Hall - Present Day
Inside, the mess hall was eerily quiet when Simon entered. None of the villagers would meet his gaze. The sole exception was Kayae. She was still giving him a look one would expect a loyal hound who had just been casually tossed away to give to their former master.
Good, Things are better this way. Despite thinking that, Simon knew deep in his heart that that wasn't what he honestly thought, "Alright. Everyone, We're going to go ahead and start gathering the harvest early."
His eyebrow lifted up slightly, clearly expecting to have heard at least some form of protest from the villagers. Ah. They're terrified of me. Well, that makes this next part easier then, "Now, I know that the next harvest isn't due for another two months, but what we are trying to do right now isn't securing a food source."
Once again, no one said anything.
"T-Then what are we doing? If we harvest the crops now, we'll starve before the next harvest is ready." Kayae's bell-like voice shook slightly as she spoke.
Simon slowly approached the shaking girl before lifting out his hand slowly. Kayae's ears fell flat against her head as her knees began shaking, images of the staked bandits no doubt dancing through her head.
"Good question," Simon said in a soothing voice while gently patting Kayae's head affectionately. Slowly Kayae opened her orange eyes and looked up at Simon's warmly smiling face. He promptly distanced himself from the girl and returned to the center of the room to finish his speech.
"What we are looking for is any potatoes that look similar to the way they appeared before the plague. No matter the size, please bring any that look somewhat normal back here as soon as you find them. They could very well be the key to overcoming this plague and providing new hope to this village." Simon's action after his speech caused audible gasps from the surrounding villages. He was bowing towards them.
"Why?" Kayae's voice once again resounded through the hall.
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Simon straightened his posture before turning towards her and speaking, "Because one of those potatoes may be either resistant or perhaps outright immune to the plague. While there is no guarantee that such a potato even exists within the village's fields, it's the only real chance we've got."
Quiet mumbling spread out throughout the mess hall before eventually culminating in a collective affirmation. One by one, the villagers slowly exited the mess hall and headed out towards the fields. Some carried barrels while others tied small sacks around their necks.
"Not you, Kayae."
Kayae stopped in her tracks near the door. "You're still not completely healed yet, and besides, I need you here."
Kayae's crimson eyes briefly lit up before she nodded happily.
Kuro's Village - Mess Hall - After Dusk
Night had fallen on the village, and yet villagers kept pouring into the mess hall. Near the entrance, Kayae sat exhaustedly directing the villagers around the mess hall. Inside, several tables had been set up, manned by an elderly woman observing each potato presented to her before sorting them into one of several bins. Occasionally the woman would hand the potato back to its harvester and direct them toward a table located in the far back of the mess hall.
At the farthest table from the door, a man clad in blackened blood-red armor quietly sat on a barrel, calmly examining each potato brought before him.
I honestly didn't expect to be a botanist in my next life. Simon gently waves his hand to dismiss the villager in front of him before rapping his fingers against the table in agitation.
"U-Um..." a quiet voice speaks up from in front of the table. Simon tilted his head downwards and spotted a small potato floating in the air supported by tiny fingers.
{Analyze.}
His expression changed suddenly at the startling results before quickly reissuing the command.
{Analyze.}
[SYSTEM: Analisis complete. Low levels of Phytophthora infestans contamination present. The object is SAFE for human consumption.]
Simon quickly hopped off the barrel and kneels down to peer under the table. Beneath a small boy with white and blue striped fur could be seen standing on his tippy toes, a mixture of amazement and fear on his face.
"Aye, It will do," He said with a smile while playfully ruffling the little boy's hair. In the corner of the large room, a quiet pouting noise could be heard coming from a rather disgruntled Kayae. Several of the villagers let out a light chuckle and smiled at the noise before promptly returning to their tasks.
"Can you show me where you found it?"
The little boys express changes to one of delight after the headpats he received, nodding enthusiastically. Simon quickly scooped the little boy into his arms and exited the building. Seconds later he promptly turned around and reentering the mess hall. A calloused hand appeared before the still pouting Kayae, much to her delight.
"Go ahead and point us where to go."
Kuro's Village - Potato Fields - Midnight
The trio arrives at the area quickly by following the little boy's direction.
Hmm... Simon's eyes shine briefly while stroking his beard and examining the soil surrounding the area where the boy harvested the potato.
"Do you know who manages this field?"
The little boy nods his head before replying, "My grandpapa!"
Simon let the little boy down onto the ground before casually picking up Kayae and shifting her into a sudo princess carry position, much to her delighted dismay.
"Can you take us to him?"
The little boy nods excitedly before running off.
"I-is it the soil?" Kayae comments while blushing heavily in Simon's arms, her tail wrapped tightly around his wrist.
"Almost, the soil itself isn't what's important, but most likely what's been mixed in with the soil. Did you notice the soil here is darker than normal?"
"Y-Yes"
A gentle smile covers Simon's face as he chases after the boy.
- - -
"Grandpapa! Grandpapa!"
"Whoa, slow down there Krake, what's going on?"
"Grandpapa, our potato was good!"
The old man tilts his head to the side before looking up to meet the gaze of the two strangers that just entered the little hut, "H-how can we help you?" The old man's tone was fearful, as he quickly pushed the little boy behind his legs.
"Can you please tell me what you are mixing into the soil?" Simon responds while setting down the embarrassed Kayae.
"I-I an't mixin anything in!" the old man replied with a nervous stutter.
"You and your grandson aren't in trouble, so please be at ease."
"Be at ease? How the hell is anyone supposed to be at ease after what ye've done!?" The old man angrily turns around and points at one of the impaled corpses in the distance before spitting on the ground.
Simon closed his eyes for a moment, deciding to ignore the elderly man's outburst. "I believe that whatever you are mixing into the soil is helping your potatoes fight off the worst of the plague. Will you please tell us what it is that you are adding into the soil?"
The old man's expression softens slightly before contorting back into one of rage, "Then open up with that at the start next time ye damned monkras!"
Simon tilts his head to the side while Kayae's ears shot up, vibrating angrily.
"Y-You dare call him that?! After he saved our village not one but TWICE?!"
Simon placed his hand on Kayae's shoulder and gives her a gentle squeeze, "Monkras?"
"It's what ye are!" the old man replied angrily.
Kayae bells her fists up again before trying to speak, only to be stopped by a quick squeeze on her shoulder.
"Judging by Kayae's reaction, I'm assuming that's a derogatory term for people that look like I do?"
"Yer damn right it is!"
Simon strokes his beard quietly, "I see. I'll have to remember that. Regardless, I'm not a monkras, so no offense taken."
The old man and Kayae both turn their heads towards Simon in shock.
"W-What do you mean? You look like a monkras, act like a monkras, and sound like a mokras, so how can you not be one?!"
Simon turned around and looks out the open window before speaking, his eyes closed, "I'm not from around here, to be honest, I've never even met one of these monkras, or really anyone else quite like me before in my life."
The old man tilts his head to the side, anger building in his face, "That's not possible! Yer probably as old as my son! There's no way you've never seen another of yer kind!"
Simon's eyes flashed briefly. His head turned to the side to stare directly at the old man, the temperature in the room seemingly falling several degrees in an instant as their eyes locked on one another, "Tell me then, how old do you think I am exactly?"
"50 o-or 40... n-no 30." the old man replies softly.
The temperature in the room returns to normal as Simon's laugh echoes throughout the small room, turning towards the old man once again. "I guess that is how it would look to most people." Simon strokes his beard before continuing. "However, You seem to be off by a few hundred years."
The old man's face, along with kayae and the little boys, shifts into a state of shock. "W-What do you mean?"
Simon strokes his beard still smiling, "I think I'm somewhere around 380 years old now by your standards, give or take a few years, but honestly, at this point, a few years doesn't mean much in the grand scheme of things."
Kayae and the old man fall to their knees suddenly. Simon manages to scoop up Kayae gently before she hits the floor, pressing her close to his chest.
The old man looks up to Simon with terror in his eyes, "A-Are ye an elf? N-no, yer ears aren't pointed, t-that's not possible."
Simon approaches the old man while holding out his hand, "Don't worry too much about it. As I said, I'm not from around here."
The old man weakly takes Simon's hand before being gently pulled to his feet.
"Anyway, Will you please show us what you mix into the soil? It may very well be the only thing capable of saving this village."
The old man nods silently before pulling a large sack from a nearby container and opens it, "My wife made this powder from various herbs. She said that I should mix it into the dirt whenever I till the fields before planting"
"I see. May I speak with your wife for a moment?"
The old man shakes his head to the side while looking downwards. "That's not possible," he replied sadly.
"Grandmama went on a trip last year!" the little boy shouts, seeming happy to finally have a part in the conversation.
"Ah." Simon replies with a gentle smile, giving the old man's shoulder a light squeeze. "May I take a sample of this powder back with me? We might be able to find out how your wife created it and then distribute it to the rest of the village."
The old man looks up at Simon again, "Aye, but I don't know how much help it will be. This sack here contains the last of the powder I've got left."
He gave the man a quick bow to express his thanks as the elderly man filled a small sack with the powder.
"I admit, I don't know how my wife went about creating this powder but, before my daughter left the village to look for food, she and my wife used to go to the forest to gather herbs for the rest of the village. I suspect that ye might be able to find what you need to make the powder there."
Simon turned around and headed towards the door.
"W-wait. If yer going to head into the forest, please, go alone. I-I've seen what you can do, so I know that whatever you might find in there won't pose much of a problem for you. But for the rest of us, entering that place is certain death."
A single nod was Simon's only reply.
The old man watched as Simon and Kayae quickly disappeared off into the distance.
"Grandpapa, who was that man with Kayae?"
"A Demon, capable of bringing us salvation or damnation..." The old man's eyes shifted between the several strips of jerky drying overhead and the impaled bandit off in the distance. "Maybe both."